Work Text:
Inspired by the song Save Myself by Ed Sheeran
Men are not created equal.
This was the lesson that Izuku learned the hard way when everyone from his kindergarten class’s quirk came in and his didn’t. And maybe he was only four, and maybe he was young and innocent and hopeful, but he really didn’t understand why quirkless had to mean worthless. If a quirk was just like any other physical ability that simply gave people a chance to be a hero, why would not having it take his chance away at being human? Why, so suddenly, did he become so fragile? Why did people treat him like glass? And if not glass, then dirt? Because of his lack of a quirk? Because he was quirkless?
He saw the looks they gave mom. Looks of pity, looks of disgust, looks that said I am so glad to have a normal child.
But Izuku watched All Might – and All Might saves everyone.
So if everyone had an equal chance to be saved, why was Izuku always the victim?
Why would no one else come to help him?
Was it because he always jumped headfirst towards danger?
Was it because he always stood up to Kacchan? To the bullies?
Was it because he was quirkless?
Was it because he wanted to get in trouble?
Kacchan said he was worthless.
His friends said he was useless.
His teachers didn’t like it when he talked.
Nobody liked it when he’s there.
But the old lady across the street always gave him sweets whenever they cross paths because Izuku always helps her with her groceries.
And the dogs at the animal shelter were always excited to see him, to the point that the caretakers would call him every time something came up.
And mom would always call him her hero even when she said he couldn’t be one when he first asked.
And maybe that was enough.
Maybe it didn’t matter if people looked at him with disgust whenever he offers his help.
Maybe it didn’t matter that the kids he saved from kids like Kacchan would run away the minute he stepped in and ignore him at any other time.
Maybe it didn’t matter that he would get screamed at for playing hero.
After all, even if no one thinks he can be a hero like All Might… maybe he didn’t have to be? And maybe the people he saves don’t always thank him… but then there are heroes like Eraserhead, right? Heroes that go unnoticed because they choose to work underground. It’s a thankless job. And that’s okay. Because even if men aren’t created equal, he didn’t need to be their equal to save someone. Even if people looked down on him, he just needs to stare straight ahead, right?
B̷̧̡̨̨͉̮̞̤̼̘͍̬͍̩̰̃͐̓̐̿͐͂̕̕͘͠͝u̴̡̡̟̩̘̯͉̰̗̪̔͛͜ť̷͓̭̣̹̯̩̿̃̏̇̏̈ ̴̮̯̾̐̐͂̊͊̊͒͊͌̚͜͠ẁ̵̛̞͓͓̘̋̏͒͗͛̾̎͐h̶̢̢̛̖̳̫̤̝͚̺̼̻̮̙̑̒͋̅͐̈́͘͘̚͜o̶̢̢͍͔̤̠̭͕͉͙̰͕̍͂͒̈̚͜͠'̵̨̢͇̱̤̺͔̘̗̹̣̖̀͗̆̓̈́̂ś̴̡̨̳̥͔̗̙͚͙̣̓ ̶̡͓͓̣͙̞̝͔̬̩̠̩̗̑̊̊̄͊́ǧ̴̹̟̼͚͎͔̳̰̹̭̺̖͙͛̋̌̀́̇̿̃̀̄̆ợ̶̢͖̦̥̳̬̦̲̟̱̲͐͂̈́͆͐̀̈́͋̓̚i̷̧̛̞̰͍͕̮̪̓̈́͆̓ǹ̶̖g̶̣̱̪͉̘̲̺̼̳̳͍̞͙̖̤̃͐̐͌͋̃̅͑̑̽́͂̈́ ̷̨̨̝͖̥̺͙̥͕̞͈͓̩̠̯̿̓͑̓͑͛̂͛t̷̡͚̹͊̀̔̾̃̀̄̒̀̊͜͝o̵͇͇̥̿͜͝ ̴̙͈̩͖̮̬̭͆̓̊̇̈͝s̷̢̢̩͓̤͍̳̤̓̓̿̓̇̎̾͒͊̍͘͠͝ạ̵͓̬͚̪̝̞̱̋̃̀͛̾̕͜͝v̸̛̥͐̎̔͋͋̋̃̉̓̊̔̓é̴̲͔̥͎̹̺̣͔̤͌̇̾̊̏̈́̌̾͗͝ ̴̹̗̝͍̬̥̚y̶̨̮̱̝͖̥̠̬͇̭͙̼͛̓̽̇̓̈́̽̀̋͑̐̚̕ͅo̵̢̺̠̳̿͐̄̆̈̿͝ų̵̡̛͖͇̙̳̭̳͈͓̩͚͓̰̀̍̍̽̈?̷̧̰͙̰̇͂͘
Ā̴͔̖͍̣͈̱̱͇̦͚̆̉̋͐̐̕r̸͓̅e̷͙͔̼̐̆ṉ̷̡̤̠͖͕̦̜̿̍̃̆̏̈́̒̒̄͐͘'̵̨̧̨͚̺̳̺̟̖̫͈̿̂̇̓̀͂ẗ̶̠̤͎̘̺͛͗̚͝ ̵̨̛̛̘̂̐̓̈́̊̀̆̚͠y̷̙̥͚͖̤̤͛̋̎̚͘o̴̜͕̱͋̈̐̌̊͘ṳ̵͔͉̗̑̓̂͂͒̆ ̷͙̹̜͆͆̒͂̓̿̿͐͊w̸̢̟̭̠̭̚ơ̸͓̇̽͌̑͐̿̅̔r̸̨̢͚̹̩̣̯͑͋̐t̷̹̻̭͎̱͚̗͕͍̠̹͐͐h̴̳̰̣̦̗̆̍͒̈͊̅̊̕͝ ̴̣̹͍̬̘̳̘̣̭̿s̶̢͙͍̬̯̜͎̝̃̓́̊̈̂̉͆̐͋̉a̴̳̲͈̗̹̐̿͐͝͝v̴̨̟͇͇͇̝̾̽̍͆̋̿̊i̴̧̧̘͈̜͍̺͙͚͂̌̓̈́̓̍̊̚ͅṇ̶̢̳̥̭͇̆̒̔̐̈́͊̄̈́̓̚̕g̸̫̖̩̭̭͎̓̐̍͊̃̑̈́͝,̸̫̥́̊̀̕ ̶̡̢̡̧̼̠͈͔̯̝́̃̐͊̅̎̿͠ţ̵̬͖͉̘̼͓̜̖̰͊̈́͋͌̋̃͆̕ò̵̲͇̦o̴̪͗̎͒͂̑̌͆̆̿̎?̷̯̤̪̎̒̃͊͗̈́͌͋̄͝
Izuku tries not to listen to the voices in his head.
Even before that fateful day that All Might told him he couldn’t be a hero, or that same afternoon when All Might told him that he actually could be one, Izuku already had scars to bear. Hand-shaped fire prints, claw marks, angry scratches – all littered and scattered in places mom couldn’t see. Tearstained pillows, torn journals, spilled lunches – all invisible to those who couldn’t give a second glance.
The entrance exam…
The sports festival…
Stain…
Chisaki…
Nothing but additions to an ever-growing collection.
And when All Might decides to look just a little bit closer and realize what a mess he truly is, when he’d want his quirk back, Izuku would return One for All without any second thoughts.
I̶̢̘̪̱̯͈̟͗͛̈́̂̿̒̄̚ţ̶̨̱̜̘̳̱̗̩̀̇̽͗́́͛͊̊̈́'̷̡̨̛̪͇̻̩̥̙̻̟̔͛́̌͐͆̐̒̚͘s̸̡̧̛̹͇̣̑̊̾̈̿̇̐̊ ̵̛͇̜͚̘͍̺͖̼͚̓̾͊̀̇̒̂̚͠͝ǹ̶̢̢͓̩̀͗͗̊̈́̂̂̾ơ̷̧͙̟͂͜͝͝t̸̢̜̜͍̻̹͖̰̱̯̭̏̑̓͋͌̕ ̵̥̏̇̃͆͝y̷̯̹̖̞͓̥̫̜̏̀̂͗͆̾̿̓͘͜ͅơ̴̢̬͎̠̰͍̳̗͍͓̫̂̑̏̐̎̐̍̄͠͠ǘ̴̻̹͍̆͛͂̿̐̈̕͜r̵̮͎̥͔̣̭͎̗̄́͗̋̏ ̴̫̪̯̪̱͑q̸̧̧̯̙͍̮̞͉̀͌̊̌́́̓̑̇̏ṷ̸͈̫̮̮͚̋͜i̵̛̙̼̪͒͐̑̊̕͠r̸͇̆͐̅̈́̄̓͋͠͝k̵̢̬͈̪̞̩̺̫̩̣͐́̋,̵͔̜͚̮͈͖̣̈́̄̔̋̉̔͛͗ ̸̱͔͑̓̑̓Q̷̧̰͙͉̼̗͐͐̿̾̀̂̊̕̕ư̷̗͔̺͍̟͚̫̙͛̽͐̋͛̈̃͆̕͝i̴̛̥̞͚̐̉̚r̶̜͐͆̀́̓͆͋̉͝k̴̨͈̘͖̣͍̭̹͈̇͘l̶̨̡̯̻͚̘̫̻̼̳̓̈́̈̅ẽ̷̫̳̱̞̙͍̳̥̮̆̈́̔̕͝s̵̛͓̫͎̣͔̾̾͝s̷͇̘̃̐͘͠ͅ.̵̤̣͎͚̪̗͉̘̼̀͆͝͠
She didn’t mean to let it slip, Izuku could tell, or at least it wasn’t the intended effect she had in mind when Asui-san asked him why he let Uraraka-san take the last mochi when it was obvious that he wanted it. Izuku gave a full body flinch in response and Asui-chan stared at him as if he grew a new head. She gave a small apology but didn’t retract her question. Izuku only smiled and said, “She wanted it more.”
Ị̶̬͖̩̟̙̞̹͖̣̐͊͋̇̎̿͂͑͗͘͝ͅt̸̙͎̆̓̔̂̅ͅ ̸̗̳̗̦͍̰̗̼͒͐ḑ̷͖̰̄͋̾̈́̐͝î̸̪̼͈̭̞̉͋̀̅̀̈d̵͙̤̺̮̬͆̅n̵͕̞̦̦̉̈́̈́̉̇̎ͅ'̶͚̱̣̯̗͙̞̑̚t̵̡̛̫͉̽̽́̒͂͐̌́̕ ̸̠̜̮̉́̍̒̑̍̀͊̍̉m̶̡̧̭͈̠̯̝͍̥͛̀̈́̐̚͠ã̶̳̲̪̯͚̮̖͕̦̪̈̈̇̏̐̂̊͛͝t̸̲͙̳́͊̽̃̿̑͗ṯ̸̥̰̣̼̮͍̋͂͂͘͝ę̷̛̣͖̱̬̤͓̺̭̇̓͠ͅͅr̷̺͔̲̗̟͓̃̅̅̑́̾͠ ̷̢̣̭̰͇͙̯̝̘̦̪͐̍̒̋͝w̴̦͈̪͆͌̽͋̊̅̅͜h̴̢̝̝̣͙̻̫͘a̸͕̝͔̗̦̯̹̗͐̀̃̋͊̀̾̀͗͆͝ͅt̵̡̪̫̜̳̫̦̾̾́̌̔ ̷̤͇͑͛̿̿̕h̷͔͂́͂̅̀̒͋̈́̆̚͠ȩ̶̛̬͍͖̠͇̓̉̅́͐̏̍͘͝ ̴̫̹̗͇̓́̀̈́̆͑̚͝͝w̶̨̨̖̺̼͉͖͕͗͗͋͝a̴̧̪͖͔̼̪͘n̴̪̙͙̝̿̐̄͑͘ţ̵̆̿̐ȅ̸̬͇̘͉̲̣͚̔́́̍́͋̕͜ͅͅd̷̫̜̭͖̣̳̟̘̺̫̆̀͒͛.̵̡͔͙̻̼͕̳̗̝̄̂͗̐̈͝
So Izuku revels in the lightness of this friendship, in the warmth of his friends’ gazes, in the life of their hugs, and the sincerity in their words.
And if they decided that they don’t want to stay anymore, Izuku would understand it.
Izuku won’t deny them that chance to leave.
After all, everyone leaves.
After all, no one ever truly loves the quirkless.
And only Izuku will be left to save himself.
A̵̙͈̼̮͂n̷͚̈́̕d̸̻̣̂̏͊̽̕ ̸̦̊̀̚t̵̞̤̟̐͂h̶̨̨̙̣̝͕͛̀̒̅̕͝ą̴̛̻̔̓̔̆̌̕t̸̢̤̉́̅̊̂͗'̵͔͕͆s̷͍̉͛̋̔̂͘ ̸̖̻͓̑̽̈́̋̕õ̷͈̐̅̀͝ķ̴̧̡̨̜̫̑̀̋̇͛ä̴̻͔̼̪̳̤̙́̐́̀̕ỷ̷̢̥͔͎͊́̽͠.̶̭͈̥̖͖͛
It doesn’t matter where he got his scars, or where he got his quirk, or who his friends were, or what he has. None of them ever matters to the quirkless. And if he ends up having to lose all these things that he has, it’s okay. It always has been. And it always will be.
Because Izuku has no other choice but to be okay.
“Let me save you, too, Midoriya.”