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He should have known better to be honest. It had been a stupid idea. But he’d still dreamed. He’d still hoped, because that’s what Midoriya Izuku did best. On TV they said that was all you needed. To dream big and work hard. But that didn’t matter for people like Izuku. Because no matter how hard he worked or how long he dreamed, nothing would— could- –ever change. He would always be a quirkless nobody. Dekus didn’t get to be heroes. He’d had the flier for weeks now. Tucked neatly under his mattress so his mom wouldn’t find it. The indents of his fingers pressed into the page from many nights of daydreaming, memorizing every word. I can prove myself, He’d thought to himself, clutching the paper to his chest. I’ll show them I can do it. Izuku wiped at his eyes again, feeling the tears and sand eat into skin. So stupid, what was he thinking? “What were you thinking?” Kacchan taunts, mimicking his thoughts. “A useless freak like you? A hero?” The older boy kicked him to the dirty sidewalk again, bolstered by his friends jeering around them. “I thought I told you to get lost, Deku,” Izuku sniffs back snot, avoiding his old friends eyes, “I- I just want to h-help people, K-Kacchan, I–” “You? Help people?” He interrupted. “All you do is mess things up. You’d just get everyone killed. In fact, I'd rather let the villains kill me than be saved by a worthless waste of space like you.” “Like you’d ever let the villains beat you, Katsuki-kun,” One of Kacchan’s lackeys butted in, “I wouldn't,” Kacchan boasted, puffing out his tiny 7-year-old chest. “Cause unlike some delusional idiots, I belong here.” he glared at Izuku, who cowered under it. “Honestly, you're such a disgrace, imagine what the pros would say if they found out that someone like you had the audacity to go to a placement exam.” Kacchan ducked down towards Izuku's face, little explosions popping from his hands. “This is a place for people with potential, not people like you, Deku. So why don’t get back to your place in a ditch somewhere, before I make you.” Izuku scrambled back, bumping into other kids' knees in his hurry to escape the loud pop pop pop of Kacchans quirk. The kids around him laughed harshly at his attempts, pushing and shoving him back down into the dirt. “Aw, see? You're such a coward, how did you ever think you’d make it as a hero?” Izuku passed the fence of Aldera Elementary and ran down the street. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe his mom was right. Maybe that look on her face when she had found the flier tucked underneath his hand when he’d fallen asleep at his desk, the soft chiding “ Izuku …” that had followed, the promise she’d made him make to forget about all of this for real this time, maybe she was right.
It’s not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair.
Why did the world hate him? Why did he always end up like this? Running home, crying, covered in dirt and missing his left shoe, but desperate to the point that he didn’t even care when the gravel cut into his feet. It had already been 2 years since his diagnosis, and it felt like every day the light got a little bit dimmer, the air a little bit thicker, and the hope and excitement that had been so present before, a little harder to hold on to. All he had wanted was for someone to see him. Maybe. Just maybe if someone in charge had seen how much he wanted this, they would have maybe– just maybe– given him a chance.Stupid. He hadn’t even made it in the building before Kacchan had seen him. Even in front of a local hero agency, packed with kids, parents, heroes and even government workers no one bothered to even glance at him let alone try and stop Kacchan and his gang of friends from tormenting him. It's almost as if his very existence repulses people, like the intensity of his uselessness and powerlessness hangs in a heavy poisonous cloud over him. Izuku stumbled when he turned sharply to duck into an alleyway, cutting the intersection that led to Kacchan’s house. He didn’t think he’d be able to stay moving if he even had to look at the building his old best friend lived in. The alley shortcut bypassed the richer neighborhoods on this side of town and dropped him right into the maze of gray apartment buildings all in various stages of disrepair. The seven year old sprinted down the pot-holed streets towards his building. He jumped around a mailbox, avoiding Kamakura-san’s dog which must have gotten out again and hated Izuku with a burning passion (just like everyone else) and ducked into the stairway. He stumbled onto the second floor, searching for his house key in his pocket and missing the key hole multiple times from the shaking in his hands before twisting the door open. “I’m home!” He shouted, attempting to hold his voice as steady as possible as he kicked off his remaining shoe at the genkan. His mothers reply floated out from the kitchen and Izuku felt himself calm slightly. She was making katsudon again. Izuku ducked around the corner and into his room. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She called to him again. His story to get out of the house was that the corner store was having a sale on his favorite manga series and she’d even given him a couple thousand yen which he’d planned to use for placement exam admission. “U-um, yeah. I’m kinda tired though I think I’m going to get a shower,” “Hm? It’s only 14:20,” Her footsteps trotted closer to his door and soon Izuku’s mother poked her head into the room. “I want to see this manga that's got you all-” She paused. Izuku looked down at the floor. “Izuku-,”“I need new shoes,” he interrupted, refusing to meet her stare. She was silent for a moment and the air was thick. “You’ll never listen, won’t you?” She sniffed back tears. “Mom, I’m sorry-”“No,” She snapped suddenly and Izuku finally looked up at her. She was crying again but the line of her mouth expressed enough anger to sting. “No, you’re not sorry!” “Mom, I-”“I told you,” Sniff “I told you not to go but did you listen? No. Because I have a stubborn son that doesn't care about his mother. You have all these- these daydreams about grandeur and heroic whatever while your poor mother has to pick up the pieces when someone pulls you out of the clouds. You come home like this –” She gestured at him. The dirt caked sock, the dried blood under his nose, the ripped muddy hem of his school shirt. “Almost everyday now and what am I supposed to do? I can’t keep buying you new uniforms, Izuku! I can’t afford to buy you another pair of shoes! I can’t keep coming home to my child looking like this!” “It’s not my fault! I just-” His mother was closer now and she gestured angrily at him to shut up. “So what if it’s your fault or not? You could stop all of this if you wanted and you know it. You just can’t stand to take advice from anyone, especially your own mother. I’m just trying to protect you, you know.” She grabbed him lightly by the shoulders, staring into his eyes emphatically. “You have to stop this, Izuku. Please, just give up on all of this. There's so many other things you could do.” Izuku trembled at her tone as she cupped his face in her hands. “You know I love you, right?” She said softly, he nodded. “Then please, for me. For your mothers sake, please give up on this. I can’t stand to watch you get hurt like this. Just leave Katsuki-chan and the others alone, yeah? Leave the hero work to them, okay?” “But-but if I t-try really hard I can still do it. I swear I’ll prove-”“Honey,” She forced him to meet her eyes. “You can’t. You can’t be a hero, Izuku. People like you don’t get to be heroes.” “W-what do you mean ‘people like me’?” Izuku stuttered, his eyes already filled with tears. Suddenly his mothers hands on his face felt cold. And the cold seeped into him down his body and digging into his heart like a rouge icicle. His mother didn’t answer his question, just gave him a sad pleading look, but she didn’t need to. Izuku already knew what she meant. So did everyone else in the world. Quirkless people can’t be heroes. Quirkless people can’t be much of anything. It must be true. Because Izuku definitely didn't feel like anything now. There are tears in his eyes, but the cold inside him freezes them into sharp little crystals, refusing to be set free. So he just stared at his mother. He watched her back away from him, dropping her hands from his face as she gave him a small sad smile. “I’ve got to finish up dinner, okay? Katsudon tonight.” She murmured and padded out of the room. Izuku clutched the front of his uniform shirt, a dry sob falling from his mouth.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
No, she was wrong wasn’t she? She had to be wrong. Being a hero is all he wanted. That was his purpose wasn’t it. He just had to work a little extra hard. But he could do it, couldn’t he?Besides, what else would there be? A truck driver? A garbage attendant? There's no guarantee even jobs like those would accept him. He grabbed at his hair. He just wanted to help. Why can’t he help? Just let him help! You’re not helping mom though. The little bad voice in his head said. You can’t even help yourself, you're just a burden on her. If she weren’t obligated by the government she might have even ditched you by now. You're a waste of precious resources. You can’t help anyone You might as well just disappear. It’d be better for everyone wouldn’t it.? The ice bit into his heart and Izuku stumbled a bit as if he’d been pushed and suddenly it seemed immensely hard to breathe.
You know I love you, right?
Did she? How could she? If all he can do is bring more problems, a waste of air. Maybe she would be glad if he disappeared. But moms love their kids. She's always been there for him before. But she said he can’t do it. Does that mean he can’t exist either? The thoughts swarmed in his head like an angry cloud of bees and he was so cold it began to burn. The walls of his bedroom, plastered in yellow red and blue, seemed to blur and twist around him and he tripped into the hallway. But the hallway was too small, and the smell of his mother's distant perfume was suddenly oppressive, the clattering of the dishes in the kitchen scratching against his brain like a caged dog begging to be let out. Before he could calm himself the sound of a woman's voice came from another room. “Iz…c…here…di…” Her voice zoned in and out, distorted as if there was a whole ocean between them. Who was that? He did know that women, didn’t he? Where is he again? His vision spun with white spots and he stumbled backwards, tripping over a dip in the floor and falling into a wall, the sound of the impact grating against his ears. “Izuk…-kay?” The wall behind him suddenly gave out and he was tumbling into open air. Ah, the hallway. The one that led to his moms apartment. Right. Izuku’s mother hated him. But, he guessed, what else is new. The boy scrambled to his feet just as his mother turned to the corner out of the kitchen. “Izuku what are you-” There were a lot of things Midoriya Izuku couldn’t do. But if there was just one thing that he was good at, it was running. ∵ One of Kacchan’s friends had taken the money his mom gave him for shopping. Izuku stared blankly at the shinkansen gate. Maybe they’d let him in if he stuck to some adult leg? He could hide in the bathroom for a while probably? A chime sounded somewhere and the doors began to slide shut. Izuku pushed his thoughts from his mind and bolted through the gap, the doors biting at his shirt and he entered the train. Squeezing through the crowd of business workers with an array of “excuse me”s he slowly made his way to the back of the car where the bathrooms were. He huddled on the bathroom floor, leaning his back against the door.He waited 4 stops until his bottom began to go numb and he snuck out into the now less crowded seating area. Izuku leaned his head against the wall, the vibrations reverberated through his body as the shinkansen sped up, staring blankly at nothing out the window. Izuku wasn’t sure how long he spent on that train. Long enough for the sky to get dark and his car to empty and fill over and over again. Long enough for the automated voice to announce the final stop for the night. However, the young boy was not disturbed from his dissociations until the conductor tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey kid,” Izuku jolted to attention, spinning to face the man. “Last stop of the night. Are you uh, from around here? Your mom on here somewhere? Whatcha doin’ out here by yourself this late? ”“‘m fine” he stuttered. “I’ll get off,” Izuku stumbled to his feet, bowing quickly to the officer and hurrying towards the door. The conductor looked confused but waved off the concern and disappeared further into the train, not glancing back once at the dirty boy deboarding the car. The station was practically empty as Izuku stepped onto the platform, only a few tired passengers slowly leaving the building. On the ceiling a few meters away from where Izuku stood was an illuminated sign listing “Sakuragichou station, Yokohama”.
…Yokohama?
Seven-year-old Izuku didn’t know a lot about geography or stuff like that, but what he did know was he’d never heard of any place by that name before. The small boy scrambled over to the map of train lines on the wall, frantically scanning for a city he recognized. His mom had made him memorize his address and although in his panic it was hard to remember, near the bottom corner of the map Labeled in crisp clean characters was a word Izuku recognized. “Shizuoka Prefecture”. The area was bordered in thick black lining and in the center was a dot labeled “Musutafu”. Izuku felt his heartbeat skyrocket and more tears began to rise to his overtired eyes. He couldn't even stretch both of his two arms to between the distance of Musutafu and the small star labeled “You are here”.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
That man had said that there were no more trains tonight and there was no way he could walk back home. He could take a bus, but he had no money and he doubted that any buses would be traveling this late anyways let alone cars. He sucked in a deep breath, willing the tears away. This was okay. He’d be fine. All he had to do was make his way to the nearest hero agency and they’d take him right home. God, he wanted to go home. He was so tired he could barely think straight. His face stung from the tears that had eaten into his skin all afternoon and the dried blood on his face itched terribly. His feet ached and tingled from the strain of walking barefoot and the ice cold pavement beneath him.
It’s okay. Someone will save me.
There was a police officer near the entrance of the station when Izuku made his way to the street. They made eye contact for a moment before the officer wrinkled his nose, as if he’d smelled something bad, and walked away. So Izuku walked away too, but in the opposite direction, wandering aimlessly through the unfamiliar streets for the telltale lights of a pro hero agency. By the time he found one, the stars were out. They glinted lazily above him, small balls of fiery wrath a million kilometers away. Izuku wasn’t sure whose agency this was, but it didn’t really matter that much as he knocked on the door, leaning against the door frame to keep his exhausted little body afloat. There was muttering inside, the sound of chairs squeaking and then a man popped his head out the door. “What is it?” he drawled uninterestedly. He was a fairly plain looking man, or he would be if it weren’t for the serpentine tongue that fluttered out of his mouth as he spoke and the slitted pupils of his eyes. The man glanced down at Izuku, almost half kneeling against the wall and frowned. “Do you need something?” Izuku sniffed nervously. Through his exhaustion and lingering despair he could still feel a spark of awe in his chest. He was talking to an actual hero. A pro hero whose whole job is to save people. To make people smile and be happy again. “I-” Izuku rasped. He cleared his throat. “My name's Midoriya Izuku. I got lost and I need help.” The door opened a bit wider and now Izuku could see the man's whole body. He was slim and muscular, lean in almost a strange way. He glanced down at Izukus clothes. “What happened to you?” he asked briskly. “I- um-”“Where are your shoes?” The hero wrinkled his nose distastefully. “I-I lost them…” “How do you lose your own shoes? Aren’t they, like, attached to your feet?” “U-um-” The man sighed a heavy sigh and opened the door wider again. “Come in.” The man led him into a dim room inside the agency, a small table and a lamp the only occupants. He gestured for Izuku to sit and the man set a laptop down onto the table and opened it, sitting himself and typing something onto the keyboard before looking up at Izuku once more. “What’d you say your name was again?” “M-Midoriya Izuku,” “‘Kay,” He began to tap on his keyboard again. A few moments later he made a humming sound. He glanced up at Izuku again and raised an eyebrow, giving him a once over again. “Get into some trouble, did you?” “U-um- I didn’t-” “How’d you get into that state then?” The man said this as if it were a joke. Izuku wasn’t sure what the right answer to this question was. “I see a lot of people like you Midoriya-kun, and I tell them all the same thing. Stop getting in the way so much. Don’t antagonize the other kids so much.” “Wha-What do you m-” “I’m not sure why you quirkless folk can’t seem to understand,” He grinned at Izuku, leaning in like he was in on some funny little secret. “If you’d stay out of the way you wouldn’t be getting into these situations so much would you?” “I didn’t-” The man tutted at him. “Ah, don’t worry!” The snake man said. “I’ll let you off this time, you’re free to go.” Izuku blinked. “F-free to go?” He nodded. “Go where?” “I mean you can leave now, if you please, I have a lot of paperwork tonight and I don’t have time to sit and chat.” The snake man had already risen from his seat, closing his laptop and shooing him out of the room. “B-but I don’t have anywhere to go. I-” Snake man ushered him into the hallway and back towards the entrance of the agency. “Yes, yes, but unfortunately I'm not a babysitter and I don’t get paid enough to do charity at 3 in the morning, now if you could please-” He swung the door open and gestured vaguely back into the empty blackness. “Be on your way.” Izuku stared at the snake man. The cold in his chest from earlier that day strengthened with a vengeance, curling tighter and tighter around his heart like a jagged snake. “Y-your a hero, right?” Izuku questioned softly. The man sighed exasperatedly. “Of course I am, now is that all?” The man glared at the boy and Izuku trembled as the cold breeze blew through the open door. And then in a tiny quivering voice he said: “Yes. I’ll be going now.” And the door to the Hero agency was slammed in his face. ∵ It was so cold in October. Or maybe it was warm. It's quite possible that the anguish Izuku felt was too strong for any heat to be registered in his body.
Heroes save people.
Heroes are supposed to help people who need help.
Then why is Izuku here, hours away from home, cold and walking barefoot all alone in the side streets of Sakuragichou, in the middle of the night at seven years old?Even his tears felt cold, like ice trickling down his cheeks and digging into his skin like a razor blade. He had been trying to find his way back to the station, where he figured the best idea would just to wait for the trains to open again and hopefully find some way home. But in his tired confusion he must have made a wrong turn, or a dozen, and now he was even more hopelessly lost than he had been in the first place. He let out a sob, his vision blurring from the tear, and choked on the panic constricting his throat. His bare foot hit a small rock on the ground the wrong way and he tripped, crashing to the grass beside the road. The boy layed there for a moment, face down and sobbing into the grass, before flopping over onto his back. The sky was fast and black and through his tears the stars were barely streaks of light. And then it started to rain. He closed his eyes to the sky. The ground beneath him was slanted downward and he let himself slip and roll down the wet grass until he plopped into a puddle. The puddle, it turned out, was actually a stream. Slowly he pulled himself to his feet and plodded slowly to the small overhang of a bridge that went over the stream, allowing cars to safely pass over it. He slid down the concrete slab holding it aloft, curling his arms around his knees. Is this where he died? Alone and cold with his toes in the current of a stream that ran nowhere close to his home. “Maybe, it’s better this way.” he whispered into the cold darkness. “Kacchan would be happy with me if I didn’t come back to school, right?” He sniffed messily, shivering against the cold. He tucked his head into his knees.
Maybe I should just disappear.
“Are you alright?” Izuku jumped, scrambling away from the new voice. He peered through the sheets of rain falling from the edge of the bridge above him and slowly a figure took shape. A broad looking outline holding an umbrella over his head to protect from the rain. “Are you alright?” The figure repeated and he took another few steps forward. Izuku scrambled back. “Don’t worry, little one. I won’t hurt you.” The tip of the man's umbrella broke the barrier of water and the man was brought into focus, almost like he was glowing slightly in the darkness. He was tall with cropped white-blonde hair that tousled slightly in the wind like sun rays emanating from the glow of his piercingly pale blue eyes. He was dressed in full business attire, black suit and dress shoes, as if he wasn’t standing in a muddy stream under a random bridge somewhere. “Good evening,” He said. “It’s a bit late for a kid to be out and about, isn’t it? Do you need some help?” Izuku burst into tears for the nth time that night. “Oh my,” The man sounded alarmed, he came closer to Izuku’s trembling figure. “What’s happened? Are you lost, perhaps?” Izuku could only nod through his tears, making a gross sniffling sound as he wiped his nose on his already disgusting sleeve. “Well, where are you supposed to be then, little one?” Izuku could only sniffle in response. The man sighed softly and lowered himself to the ground beside Izuku. “Little ones like you shouldn’t be out at times like this, much too cold for little ones to handle Here.” The man had shrugged off his suit jacket and held it towards Izuku. When Izuku only stared at it, the man chuckled lightly and draped the large, warm fabric over Izuku’s shoulders, suddenly drowning the boy in warmth. He shivered violently at the change in temperature. “B-but I-I’ll-I’ll get i-it all-all dirty” Izuku chattered. “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” The two of them sat in silence for a while, listening to the rain hit the road above them and splash into the creek. The man's jacket smelled like cologne and apple pie and Izuku was suddenly starving. His stomach growled and almost immediately the man was nudging his side. Izuku flinched at the touch and glanced over at the man, who was holding out a granola bar for Izuku to take. Izuku wasn’t sure where he could have gotten it from but at that moment he was hungry enough not to particularly care. He snatched it with both hands and made quick work of the food. There was a few more moments of silence before Izuku said, “I ran away,” “Why would you go and do something like that?” “...I don’t know,”“Of course you do,” He said, not unkindly. “I doubt you would have run away without good reason.” Izuku was quiet for another few long moments. “...C-cause nobody likes me. E-even my mom thinks I'm u-useless.” “Hm? Why would they ever think that?” “I can’t tell you,” “Why's that?”“‘Cause then you’ll hate me too,” “I won’t”“You will, everyone else does.”“Well, I’m not like everyone else.” Izuku shuffled his barefeet in the muddy grass. “...I’m quirkless.” He braced himself for the man’s reaction but the man stayed silent. Izuku glanced at him warily. He was looking at Izuku sadly, but not the pitying he usually got from the few decent people he knew. It felt…understanding. Like this man could see right into Izuku’s soul, like he understood him. “That must be hard,”
Ah, no one’s ever said that to me before.
“Y-yeah, j-just a l-little bit,” It was like a spike had been shoved through Izuku’s little chest. It was hard. It was so hard. “What about your dad?” The man asked softly. “He ran away. He didn’t wanna have a useless son.” That had been probably one of the worst days in Izuku’s whole life. Which was saying something because he’d had a lot of bad days. But the day of his diagnosis started all of it, he supposed, so it made sense that it was the worst. “I’m sorry,” The man said. Izuku startled. “Why?”“I’m sorry you had to deal with such stupid people,” The look on the man's face was kind of scary, a deep-set anger that would have probably made Izuku run away if it was on anyone else’s face. Instead, he felt a feeling he didn’t feel very often back in that stage of his life. Protected. It’d been a long time since anyone had ever been angry on his behalf. “I-, um…It’s n-not stupid, they’re right…Quirkless people… can’t be heroes.” “Hero? Is that what you want to be?” The man seemed surprised and Izuku squirmed under his gaze. “I just wanna help people.” The boy conceded softly. The man made a humming sound, nodding to himself. “I can see you helping lots of people,” He said seriously. Izuku brightened despite his exhaustion. “You do?” “Of course, although it’ll be harder for you because you don’t have a quirk, but you shouldn’t let that stop you.” “You think so?” “Mhm,” Izuku felt like crying again, but not because he was sad. It was almost exhilarating. “In fact,” the man began, “ if you’d like I could train you myself. The rest of the world isn't very accepting these days, you know.”“Really?!” Izuku couldn't help but contain his excitement. “Of course, I've become quite skilled at these things over the years.” He smiled at Izuku. “However there is one drawback.” Izuku’s heart sank.“W-what kind of drawback?” “You'll have to come stay with me and my family. You won't be able to see your mother anymore if you accept. This life you have now will have to end.” …Leave his mother? He'd never even spent the night anywhere away from her besides this moment now. Izuku loved their apartment, it was his whole world. But- “Okay.” Izuku decided. “I'll stay with you.” The man grinned. ∵ The man’s car was very fancy. Black and shiny with tinted windows that somehow Izuku could still see through from the inside. They’d been driving for a very long time, and Izuku had fallen asleep at one point and by the time he awoke again, the sun had risen and they were suddenly in the countryside. It was only then when Izuku began to realize the gravity of the situation he was in. He didn’t know this man. He didn’t know where they were. Was he getting kidnapped? Was he going to die? Sold into a trafficking ring? However as soon as Izuku was beginning to think maybe he should come up with an escape route, the car turned onto a long, winding driveway and slowly over the hill rose a ginormous traditional Japanese house. It was two floors tall and highly embellished, but the entrance area was strangely reinforced like the entryway to a military base. “Welcome to our home, little one,” The man said as he parked the car. He opened the door for Izuku holding a hand out for the boy to help him out of the car, his now unneeded umbrella dangled from the other. “Ah, I forgot to ask. What’s your name, little one?” The man asked, beginning to punch something into a panel on the front door. “Izuku. M-Midoriya Izuku.” The man grinned at Izuku, resting one large hand on his head and the door swung open.“Welcome to the family, Izuku-chan,”