MHA: Man Of Steel

When night came. Travis heard the loud sound of a scream. Followed by shouts of a man about to jump.

' Man, another attempt i guess' he thought as he rose from his bed and opened his closet.

He looked at the black superman suit than looked at his hoodie.

' Why not have my Debut today.' He thought to himself with a smirk, but quickly brushed the idea off as he knew it was too early. He hasn't even applied for UA. So he decided to just wear his block outfit.

He opened up the door to his balcony and with a leap, Izuku took off to the skies fast.

.....

In the heart of Mustafa, a sprawling metropolis where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows over neon-lit streets, the city lights shone brightly like stars brought down to earth. The air pulsed with the rhythm of city life—honking cars, muffled chatter, the occasional bark of street vendors pushing for one last sale. Some people were just getting off work, shoulders slumped from exhaustion, while others embraced the night—laughing, drinking, dancing beneath the artificial glow.

But high above the noise and color, perched on the narrow edge of a tall commercial building, stood a man silhouetted against the night sky. His knees trembled slightly, shoes half-dangling over the concrete lip, as wind tousled his messy black hair. His wide, bloodshot eyes scanned the world below—people the size of ants, cars no more than glowing specks moving like fireflies.

'I can't do it, I can't do it,' he thought frantically, heart pounding as if trying to escape his chest.

His breathing came in quick, shallow gasps. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, the skin around his knuckles pale from pressure.

Down below, a few people walking by happened to glance up—and froze. Gasps spread, some pointing. A woman screamed. Phones were whipped out, some to record, others to dial emergency services.

Within minutes, sirens blared through the night. Police cars screeched to a halt near the building, lights flashing violently red and blue, cutting across the street like warning beacons. The fire department soon followed, their ladder truck positioning itself in vain.

A policeman stepped forward, lifting a megaphone. His voice cracked through the device with authority but held a note of calm.

"Please calm down! Step away from the ledge! You're not alone!"

But the voice was drowned beneath the man's thoughts. A memory—vivid and venomous—surged back with the force of a tidal wave. The image of his girlfriend, naked in bed with another man, laughing like he never existed. The way she had once clung to him, promised forever, now reduced to a lie that cut deeper than any blade.

His chest tightened. His vision blurred—not from the wind, but from the flood of tears that refused to stop. He had no family, no friends. Only her. She was his anchor, his only light, his reason. And now she was gone.

'She was my everything…' he thought bitterly. 'And I was nothing to her.'

His face twisted—not just in sorrow but in fury. His lips trembled, then parted in a broken scream toward the heavens.

"Fuck it!" he spat, voice hoarse. "She wouldn't even care if I died—that bitch!"

The crowd below murmured in horror. Some shouted, begging him to step back. But he didn't hear them. He was staring at the city lights, the ones that once looked magical when he walked with her hand in hand. Now they were just cold. Distant. Unreachable.

The wind blew one final time.

He smiled, not in peace, but in surrender—tears still gliding down his cheeks, catching glints of neon light as they fell.

And then—he let go.

But just as the man plummeted through the open air, a sudden black flash streaked across the night like lightning cutting through the darkness. The crowd below barely registered what had happened—only a blur tearing through the sky at impossible speed.

In the blink of an eye, the falling man was snatched mid-air, his body suddenly spinning as if caught in a cyclone. A strong arm wrapped around his chest. The pressure was firm, secure.

His descent slowed sharply as wind howled past his ears. Then—thud—his feet landed hard against the cold, rough asphalt, legs buckling slightly under the shock of survival.

'What… just happened?' he thought, heart still hammering in his chest, lungs struggling to catch up with reality. He fell to his knees, staring at his trembling hands.

Then he looked up.

Behind him, standing tall under the soft glow of the streetlights, was a figure clad in a dark black outfit and his sharp eyes—kind, but unwavering—locked onto the man's.

"Don't kill yourself," the hero said plainly, his voice youthful but steady. "There's more to life… or something." His tone was awkward but genuine.

The man stared, breathing heavily. "Who… who are you?"

Hearing that, the figure chuckled softly, then gave a relaxed, lopsided smile.

"You'll find out soon," he replied.

And with that, the mysterious savior's feet began to lift off the ground. A low rumble built in the air as pressure swirled around him, then—boom—he launched into the night sky, leaving behind a powerful gust of wind that swept across the crowd like a wave.

The onlookers gasped, some shielding their faces from the blast, others frozen in awe. Sirens still flashed, but all eyes were on the sky where the strange new hero had vanished—leaving only silence, wind… and hope.

Izuku sat perched on the edge of a tall building, legs dangling over the ledge as the soft breeze tugged at his cape. The city of Mustafa sprawled below him—lights twinkling, cars weaving through traffic, life buzzing in its usual rhythm.

He stared down with a calm expression, taking a deep breath as he scanned the city for danger. One save down tonight, and it felt good.

'That was solid for my first save tonight. Kinda feel like Batman with the whole brooding-on-a-rooftop vibe…' he thought, glancing at the reflection of his reflection.

'Still… I think I wanna keep Superman's colors. They feel… right. Plus, imagine me rocking full green—I'd look like a damn bean.'

He smirked to himself.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was a call from Mom.

He sighed, stood up, and with a soft hum of energy, whoosh—he took off, disappearing into the night sky like a streak of wind. Within minutes, he was home. A quick outfit change later, he was back to plain old Izuku, now seated across the dinner table from his mother.

"So, you'll go to U.A. next year?" Inko asked, placing a dish in front of him.

"Yeah, I can't wait," he replied between bites, shoveling in food like he hadn't eaten in days.

"You know… we never went back to the hospital to re-register your Quirk," she said, watching him closely. "I'm sure they'd lose their minds seeing how many powers you've developed."

"Nah. I don't really feel like it," he shrugged. "I wanna keep things on the down-low. Super secret identity style. Unlike most heroes who can't wait to slap their name on a billboard."

"Well… okay," she said, slightly hesitant but respecting his decision. She turned to the remote and switched on the TV.

"Breaking News!" the reporter's voice cut through the room.

"Tonight, we're live on the scene where the mysterious Hoodie Hero saved another life—this time, a young boy on the verge of suicide. Eyewitnesses say he swooped in moments before the jump. Many theorize the Hoodie Hero is just a boy, based on his voice and body size. The question remains—who is this masked savior? Will he join the Vigilantes or become a Pro Hero? This is Fubuki Takama, reporting live from Central Mustafa."

Inko blinked, lowering her chopsticks slowly.

"Wow… a boy, huh? He's so brave," she said pointedly, then turned to Izuku, who was now eating even faster like he could dodge the conversation by speed-chewing. "I thought I told you to stop with the hero stuff until you're old enough."

"But Mom!" he protested, mouth half-full. "He was going to die if I hadn't stepped in! No one else has super hearing like I do—at least not to the magnitude I have. I can hear a scream through a thunderstorm from ten blocks away!"

Inko sighed, clearly torn between admiration and worry. "I understand, baby. But you're still a teenager. What if you run into someone dangerous—like a Hero Killer? Oh god, don't even make me think about what would happen…"

"Mom," Izuku said, setting his chopsticks down and meeting her gaze. "I'll be fine. I'm not like everyone else."

He stood up slowly, cape flicking behind him ever so slightly as he raised his chin with a grin.

"I'm the Man of S—"

"MAN OF STEEL!"

The TV announcer suddenly shouted the title of an old superhero documentary, interrupting his dramatic declaration. Both of them paused.

Then Inko burst out laughing.

Izuku groaned and sat back down, hiding his face behind a bowl.

TO BE CONTINUED

[ A/n: this is an invincible reference BTW]