Chapter Text
Midoryia Izuku stared down at the void from the edge of the rooftop. One step and it would all be over. His notebooks and backpack were stacked tidily to the side, not that it would matter in a few seconds anyway. His latest notebook, burnt and soaked, had been lovingly put on the top of the pile. He would’ve thrown them into a garbage bin, if only so that no one would have to clean up after he was…gone, but he couldn’t bear to part with his lifeline for these last few minutes.
A few minutes, and it would all be over. Izuku closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The building he chose was isolated, if only so that he wouldn’t accidentally traumatize any unlucky passerby, but he could still hear the sounds of thousands of people going about their day. He wondered if even one of them would mourn when he was dead. Probably not. He was worthless, after all. Useless. A Deku. Kacchan and the other classmates would probably rejoice at not having to deal with his creepy muttering anymore. The teachers probably wouldn’t care. His foster parents would probably breathe a sigh of relief at not having to deal with the quirkless Deku anymore. They would probably throw away his stuff with glee.
Idly, Izuku wondered if there really was an afterlife. Maybe he could finally be with his mum. Or maybe he could be reborn with a quirk like Kacchan said. He hoped he wouldn’t be such a Deku in his next life.
Izuku was hesitating, he knew it. Maybe he wanted someone to stop him at the last moment, to wrap him up in warm blankets like his mum used to, to tell him he wasn’t a worthless waste of space, to hand him a miracle and a will to live. But those were impossible dreams, the dreams of a useless Deku who couldn’t do anything but dream.
With that thought, Izuku jumped.
It was peaceful, in a way. The wind roared in his ears, pushing away the sounds of Musutafu. Izuku opened his eyes to stare at the sky, blue dotted with sparse white clouds. His usually overactive tear ducts lay dormant, allowing him to enjoy the view unobstructed.
Smiling, Izuku squeezed his eyes shut on last time, and braced for impact.
Midoryia Izuku opened his eyes. He was standing at the edge of a rooftop, a pile of notebooks and his backpack arranged tidily next to him.
Impossible.