Chapter Text
Shouta fumbled the key through the door as he moved the final boxes into the new apartment.
Well, it was new for him at least. He sighed as he looked around the stale apartment. From the way the dirt clung to the windowsill to the way the carpeting looked like it used to be white, it was obvious that the apartment needed some deep cleaning. Said cleaning would have to be done before 8:00 tomorrow afternoon, and completely by himself.
As Shouta started making his mental checklist, he wondered why his parents cared if the apartment was dirty in the first place. It wasn't like they were even home anyway, and when they were home--
He cut off his train of thought before it could finish, but that didn't stop his hand from self-consciously going to the nape of his neck, to the rough skin where he could feel an old scar resided. A scar that he blatantly knew a 13-year-old shouldn't have.
Pushing back dark memories, he started estimating the amount of money he would need to fully fix the place up. After realizing the money his parents loaned to him wouldn't be enough, he got up out of his sitting position to dig through his moving box for a notebook so he could recalculate and find where he could safely cut corners on the cost.
Shouta flinched as he heard a knock on the front door. For a half-second, he wondered if his parents somehow managed to make their way to the new apartment before swiftly disposing of the idea. It was simply illogical.
He hastily put the notebook down before opening the squeaky door to reveal a small young woman with green hair.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw his short figure. She was obviously expecting an adult to answer, Shouta thought as she quickly repositioned herself.
“Hello! My name is Midoriya Inko, and I came to welcome you to the complex!” the woman said happily, “If you ever need help with anything feel free to knock on my door. My apartment is the one right next to yours! Apartment 306.” The woman waved before leaving presumably in the direction of her apartment.
Yeah, right, Adults always say that but then turn a blind eye when kids actually do need help, Shouta thought as he picked up the notebook again. He hastily wrote down a few more notes as he pulled on his shoes and exited the apartment, going out to find the items he needed.
It's been roughly 2 months since Shouta has started living in the complex and he’s started to notice some things.
The Midoriyas seemed to notice when his parents left for weeks on end, and commonly put some of their leftovers by his door in case he was hungry (most of the time he was), and he also noticed how Midoriya-San actually acknowledged him with a hello when they passed in the halls. He enjoyed knowing that someone cared for him, but those thoughts were mostly overruled by the cynical part of his brain that said she would stop as soon as she knew what his quirk was and how villainous it could be.
Shouta was in his classroom packing up for the day as he tried anticipating if he could eat something today. He knew that there was no point as he had been over all the money his parents left, and he knew he didn't have enough money to feed himself until Monday, but his brain was always trying to find the small percent where something could be possible. He started to wonder what his chances were that the Midoriyas left some food for him as he put his assignments in his bag.
Idiot. You know she doesn’t care and is only doing it to lighten her conscience. As soon as real problems start showing up she won't--
He quickly shook the thoughts out of his head as he got up and made his way to the door of the classroom.
“Hey, Aizawa! Where do you think you're going?”
Shouta quickly turned his head to see Takahashi smirking at the other side of the room. Next to him was Endo.
“Home.” Shouta said gruffly, not in the mood for their ‘games’.
Takahashi laughed, exposing his canines in a predatory smile, before beginning to speak again, “I don't think so, villain. You’ll be coming with us.” Takahashi emphasized his statement by flicking his striped tail, reminding Shouta that he couldn’t erase his tiger-related mutation quirk.
Shouta started inching away, feeling like a measly scrap of prey surrounded by a wolf pack.
His efforts were in vain as Endo powered up his speed quirk, and before he could use Erasure on him, he made his way behind Shouta. Shouta violently flinched as he felt two cold fingers against his neck, millimeters from The Scar.
Shouta quickly reassured himself in his mind that They weren’t there. They were on the other side of Japan doing who knows what. Reminding himself that it would take Them more than 24 hours, even on a bullet train, to get anywhere near him.
When he calmed himself down, delaying his inevitable panic attack, he grimaced as he noticed they were leading Shouta outside. He knew there was no way to get out of a beating today unless someone tried defending him, but the chances of that happening might as well have been none.
As the boys led him to the stairs, Shouta tried to struggle out of Endo’s grip, knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep as well of a hold on him as they changed elevation. Before Shouta could do much, Endo suddenly shoved him forward, letting go of his nape, making him tumble down the stairs.
Well, there you have it. Looks like I'll be eating stairs tonight. Shouta thought dryly as he spat out some blood. Wonderful. My favorite. Shouta tried to get up, but before he could get on his knees Endo made it down and kicked him right in the gut.
“That's what you get for trying to escape. Of course someone with a weak and villainous quirk like you would think that trick would work.” Endo spat.
If my quirk is so weak, then why are you so afraid of me being a villain? Shouta thought.
“What did you just say to me?!”
Damn. I said that aloud, didn’t I?
Might as well run with it…I'm gonna get beat up anyways…
“You heard me! Why are you so afraid of me hurting you or taking your precious quirk away if I’m too weak to even pose a challenge ?!” Shouta snapped.
The two boys looked at each other in confusion for a moment, before their expressions turned into pure disgust, “Of course you’re weak! All villains are weak! If they weren't then heroes would be dropping like flies!”
Takahashi barked a laugh (ironically), “Seriously, how idiotic is this runt? Forget doing the heroes a favor, we’d be doing the world a favor if we killed this moron!” As if to prove his point, Takahashi kicked Shouta in the gut three more times before picking him up by the front of his uniform and dragged him to the front doors, where he threw Shouta outside.
As the boys descended on him, kicking and punching, Shouta curled himself into a defensive position where he covered his neck and head while making himself a smaller target.
Weak
Weak
WEAK
He really is just a worthless villain runt. He spoke out against what society was used to, spoke the truth, acting all high and mighty before curling up into a useless pathetic ball.
No wonder no one believed that he could be a hero. What hero is so weak that he could even tell some bullies to back off? What kind of hero speaks words not of hope, but of despair?
Isn't that what heroes do? Say how weak villains are so that civilian minds could be put at rest? Lie for the sake of peace, even as it's obvious with his own bloodshot eyes that the hero had been an inch away from a fatal wound? An inch away from death ?!
If that were the criteria, then I don't believe that I can be a hero either…
Shouta awoke later to see the sun deep in the sky.
Shit. They must have done more damage then I thought.
He shakily made his way to his knees before he gagged in response to the multiple kicks in his abdomen. With a push, Shouta staggered to his feet and made it back into the building. As soon as he got his bag (which was discarded at the stairs) he turned around and started to make his way home. God, was he ever so glad it was a Friday.
After a solid 15 minutes of walking, he finally made it back to his apartment complex. As he fumbled for his keycard to let himself into the building (the doors locked at 9:00) he felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over him. Ignoring it, he slipped the card through the sensor, unlocking the door, but as he pushed it open he felt his body become almost weightless, and before he knew it the floor seemed a lot closer then it had before.
“-el-o--? H-llo? Ki-d, are you ok?!”
Shouta blearily looked up to the sight of two large green eyes. Midoriya-San, a voice in his head supplies.
“What happened?!” The woman asked.
Shouta tries to respond with “ Don’t worry about it, ” but when he tried to speak it only came out as a croak.
“Listen,” Midoriya-San started, “I’m going to pick you up and bring you to my apartment to get you patched up. Is that ok?”
No, it was not ok! Shouta thought.
Shouta feebly tried to glare at the greenette before trying to once again get up onto his knees. His strength failed mid-way through, and he collapsed onto the ground again, Midoriya-San just barely being able to catch his fall with her hands.
“Kid…. As a nurse, I'm going to have to insist that you let me help you.” Midoriya-San said softly.
Shouta narrowed his eyes at her. This is the woman that gives me food when she has no reason to, the logical part of his brain pointed out, And she's a nurse, so she can give you some semi-decent treatment.
Shouta finally gives in and nodded his head slightly, Midoriya-San smiling softly down at him. The woman carefully repositioned her arms so that she could carry him without putting strain on his injuries, and slowly they made it up the dingy stairs to the third floor. As Midoriya-San passed multiple doors on the way to her apartment, Shouta started counting the door numbers to take his mind away from the throbbing pain.
302……, 303………., 304………,305………., and…..306…..
Midoriya-San gingerly moved her hand from underneath his body and knocked on the door. From the other side, he heard the heavy steps of someone coming towards the door. In one swift movement, the door opened to reveal a tall man with black hair almost as dark as his own. He had a suspicion that if his hair wasn't covered in gel, that it’d spring up into unmanageable curls.
The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “What happened?” he asked. The man moved out of the way as Midoriya-San carried the ravenette to the couch and carefully set him down. The woman continued to move around the apartment, grabbing a medkit and multiple towels before proceeding to soak the towels through with water.
“This is our neighbor- the kid from next door.” The man nodded in response, “I don't know what happened but I saw him collapse when he tried to push the door open to get into the building.”
The nurse sat down next to the couch as she started to dab at Shouta’s eye with a towel. From the sudden stab of pain, he could assume that he got a black eye somewhere along the way.
Shouta woke up to noise surrounding him. The sounds of plates, dishes, and silverware. That alone was enough to wake him up completely. His parents weren't home, and when they were they never did chores. He burst up from where he was lying but judging by his body screeching at him to stop, that probably wasn't the best idea.
He looked around the room quickly, trying to get his bearings. The house was clean with just enough clutter to look lived-in and loved, but not disorganized. He continued to study the room until he caught sight of pictures as well as the woman named Midoriya Inko.
Suddenly he remembered what happened the previous day in flashes. Going to school, the bullies attacking him, him collapsing when he got back to the building, and Midoriya-San treating his wounds.
Without warning, the green-head he was looking at turned around and jumped in surprise when she realized he was awake.
“Ah, you’re awake!” the woman said drying her hands after putting her most recently dried dishes away. “You really should be laying down, I don’t think your wounds would appreciate it very much,” She went over to the couch and eyed him over, “How are your injuries feeling, kid?”
“Fine, I guess…”
“Whenever someone adds on ‘I guess’ to an answer, chances are they don't believe it to be true.” Midoriya-San said with a small smirk on her face, “So tell me, kid, how are you feeling?”
Shouta glances back at her quickly, “What’s up with you and calling me kid?”
The greenette poked his shoulder softly, “Someone never introduced themselves to me.”
Shouta faintly blushed, Of course he forgot to introduce himself…. Though I guess first introductions don't matter anyway, seeing as she’ll leave me to fend for my own as soon as she knows what my quirk is.
Shouta looked down at his lap. He might as well just speed up the process. “It doesn't matter anyway… I’m just going to leave you be.” He said as he tensed up his legs, ready to swing them over the couch and to leave.
Midoriya seemed to catch on quickly though, because suddenly her hand was over his leg, stopping him from leaving.
“You’re not going anywhere with wounds like that,” Midoriya-San started, “Heck, I don't even think that you’d make it to the front door.”
“We both know that the only reason you're helping me is that you want to feel good about yourself, ‘Oh look at that poor bullied kid! I better help him!’ ” Shouta mimicked, “Well just stop it! I don’t need your damn help!” He snapped.
Shouta suddenly feels two hands on his shoulders and finds himself flinching as he sees a hardened face in front of him.
He stared defiantly into those deep, forest green eyes, trying to keep his mind off the fact that he felt her nails through the thin shirt he was wearing.
“I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing this for you. And I don’t care how bad you think of yourself, or how much you feel you deserve this treatment, but that fact won’t change .” The fierce woman said firmly.
The side of his mind that was less in tune with the ways of the world felt a surge of hope at the woman's words, but he scoffed as he pushed the thoughts deeper.
“Please, we all know how this goes. You make promises to help, and then the moment you discover a quirk you don’t like, you’ll shove me back onto the street like the trash I am,” he spat with a scowl on his face.
Midoriya-San inhaled sharply as she heard his words, it was quite obvious that he struck a nerve of some kind.
“I’ve always hated people who judged on quirks alone,” she said softly to herself. She looked him straight in the eyes once again, determination filling her to the brim, “It doesn't matter if you have a ‘weak’ or ‘dangerous’ quirk, because newsflash, all quirks can be dangerous if you know how to use them right.”
“If a kid had a quirk to change their eye color, then they’d be a great underground hero or info gatherer! Imagine how much you’d save on colored contacts! If you have a quirk that's all flash and doesn't do anything, then it’d be a great distraction as you hit ‘em hard with a support weapon!” she said brightly. “Meanwhile, imagine how terrifying it would be if Endeavor or Crimson Riot was a villain!” she said, somehow still excited as she implied certain doom.
Her gaze suddenly softened, “What I’m trying to say is that this society categorizes every four-year-old child into 3 categories, hero, villain, and civilian. And that state of mind is dumb.”
And wow. He would be impressed if his entire world view wasn’t blown open like a flick to a precarious leaf.
Feeling like he might shatter at any moment, he answers the original question.
“My name is Aizawa Shouta.”