Chapter Text
Izuku was not having a great day, there was no denying that. Other than being publicly humiliated by his classmates and teacher, Izuku was sure that Kacchan wasn’t done with him. Izuku had planned on tracking down villain fights and taking notes on heroes, but judging by the look on Kacchan’s face, those plans were toast.
Izuku watched the hands on the clock tick by. Second by second, minute by minute, until he would be released from this prison. Midoriya counted down the seconds till the bell rang, until the very last tick announced the end of his torment. He shoved his things into his backpack, and was just reaching for his Hero Analysis notebook when a hand snatched the book out of his reach. Izuku’s emerald green eyes meet angry, red ones, and he quickly looked away.
“We aren’t done here, Deku,” Kacchan growled as the classroom emptied. Izuku gulped, glancing around anxiously, looking for a way out.
“Hey, what’s that, Katsuki?” One of Bakugo’s friend’s asked, glancing at the notebook in the blonde’s hands.
“Hero Analysis For My Future...this guy is insane, man!” The other guy exclaimed, reading the title. Izuku cringed, avoiding looking into the face of his childhood friend.
Just as the last person exited the classroom, Izuku’s notebook was consumed by a furor of flames. Izuku yelped as Bakugo activated his quirk, destroying the smaller males’s notebook. Bakugo casually tossed the notebook to the left, out the open window, then took a step towards Midoriya.
“Every hero has stories told about them from when they were a kid. The story I want to tell is that I was the only one from this shithole who managed to attend UA and become a hero!” Bakugo yelled, placing a threatening hand on Izuku’s shoulder.
“You’re just a quirkless nobody. No hero program will ever want you, certainly not UA!” Bakugo screamed, his quirk activating causing Izuku to whimper in pain as the other male’s palm burned through his uniform and into his shoulder. Izuku bit his lip, shaking with emotion, although which emotion he was unsure. Anger, fear, pain, humiliation- all of these and so many more tangled up into one big, tangled ball of emotion.
“Heh, typical. Can’t even say anything to stand up for himself,” One of Bakugo’s goons sneered.
“Yeah, so lame! Even as a third-year, he still can’t face reality,” The other one agreed as Katsuki let go of Izuku’s shoulder and turned away. Midoriya let out a sigh of relief, his body still shaking slightly. ‘Reality’ Izuku thought to himself. Yes, the reality was that in this society, a quirkless kid was completely useless. A quirkless person would never be respected or taken seriously, and to be honest, no one cared if a quirkless person died. Because they were totally and absolutely useless.
“You really wanna be a hero so badly? I got an idea for you,” Kacchan paused, glancing back over his shoulder. Izuku looked up in confusion, and, although he tried to deny it, a little bit of hope.
“If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan dive off the roof!” Bakugo snarled. The words hit Izuku like a train. ‘Go take a swan dive off the roof!’ It was a horrible, terrible idea. But the worst part about it all? Bakugo was right. He was right. This was a society of superpowers and heroes and villains; there was no place for a boy like Izuku Midoriya. Truly, the blonde was right- the best thing to do was to just jump.
Izuku turned sharply, his emotions boiling over. He was practically hyperventilating, trying to regain control of himself.. The unmeasurable anger at Bakugo, the guilt of knowing he was wasting peoples time, the knowledge that Kacchan was right, the fear of committing that one final act-. A storm swirled inside of him, and for the first time in years, Izuku felt the need to lash out and fight.
“What?” Bakugo grinned, and as if he were a balloon that had been popped, all the fight left Midoriya. He just stood there, shaking, disconnected from reality, as Katsuki and his friends left the room. Izuku stood there for a moment, tears spilling over, before finally grabbing his backpack and trudging out.
Outside the school, Midoriya fished his charred and soggy notebook out of the fountain. His thoughts were in turmoil as he shook a fish off of his notebook.
“Stupid. That’s my notebook, not fish food...idiot,’ Izuku retrieved the wrecked thing. Barely decipherable, the words ‘Hero Analysis For My Future’ seemed to mock Izuku as he tried to save the wretched book. Izuku huffed at the notebook. ‘For My Future?’ What a hopeless dream. Kacchan was right. What kind of hero program is going to want a quirkless kid who can’t defend himself from a couple of bullies? Did I really think I could ever be accepted into society, let alone respected and looked up to?
Izuku recalled Kacchan’s final words. As much as the green-haired boy didn’t want to admit it, it was probably the best course of action. All he did was take up space, make people worry about him, and get in people’s way. Heck, even his mother didn’t think he could become a hero as he was now. ‘I’m sorry’ she had told him. And Izuku knew why. It was an impossible dream, even for the best of quirked individuals, but especially for a quirkless one. The only reason he hadn’t taken Kacchan’s advice was because he was a coward. He was terrified of death, of the unknown. And because he was a coward, he burdened upstanding members of the community with his uselessness.
But there really wasn’t a choice, was there? Even if he decided to attempt attending UA, he’d just fail the exam, and probably wouldn’t be able to make it into any other high school because of bias. He would never be able to get a job, always being passed over, even if being quirkless wouldn’t affect his performance. He would never be able to support himself, instead just burdening his mother as she tried to care for him. It didn’t matter what he did, or what he strived to be. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, no hero coming to save him. Because he was quirkless, and useless, and he didn’t deserve to be saved.
Izuku had already made a decision, he knew. He tried to avoid it, but in the end it was inevitable. Pressing his lips together, Izuku put his notebook into his bed, no longer He slung his bag over his shoulder, mechanically following the motions as he climbed the stairs leading to the roof.
It was time for Izuku Midoriya to face reality.
_____
Touya Todoroki, or Dabi as he went by currently, was having a pretty crappy day, to say the least. To start off, his alarm hadn’t gone off this morning, so he’d nearly missed his train. Arriving late, he then had to stand for all of his forty-five minute commute. When he finally got to work, he’d gotten into a fight with some idiotic costumer (which wasn’t even his fault, the other guy started it), and lost his job. To make matters worse, he’d missed the last train to his neighborhood, and even taking the train to a nearby neighborhood resulted in an hour-long walk.
Dabi sighed as he stepped off the train, setting off towards his apartment. The wind was blowing, and the laughter of children echoed in his ears. It was days like this that Dabi couldn’t help but reminisce on simpler times. Times when he’d play sports with his siblings, hang out with his friends, when he would help his mother set the table for dinner. Sure, Endeavor was always an asshole, but it was easy to forget about his father when he was messing around with his siblings or experimenting with his quirk. And then Shoto was born.
Don’t get Dabi wrong, he loved his youngest brother. Shoto was his little brother, the cute and adorable kid with the big smile and an even bigger heart. But then that bastard Endeavor had gone and messed things up. Dabi had hardly ever had the chance to see little Shoto. And after their mother’s breakdown, things had become practically unbearable. Dabi had left a year later, when he was 16.
Dabi huffed, pulling his coat tighter around him, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. It had been a while since he’d thought about his family and old life- now he just worked crappy part-time jobs and pickpocketing to survive. There was no use in thinking of the past now. There was no way to change it, so might as well leave it be.
“Watch it!” Someone growled as Dabi bumped into them. Dabi ignored them, continuing his trek, breathing in the fresh, crisp air. The smell of barbecue wafted through the air, mingling with the fumes of some foul odor. The rumble of traffic was background noise as Dabi took in the sights of the city. The display was only ruined by the occasional burst of sparks from a couple blocks away, presumably some D-class villain putting on a show.
Something, or rather, someone caught his eye. It was a young boy, probably middle-school, judging by the uniform. He was in every way the average student- besides the fact he was sitting on the railing of the roof of a school building. A building whose fall would be fatal.
Dabi was entirely sure what compelled him to climb to the roof of the building. Perhaps it was thoughts of his little brother Shoto echoing through his head. The boy looked to be about Shoto’s age. Or maybe it was because the boy reminded Dabi of himself. Whatever the reason, Dabi found himself up on the roof of the school, facing the green-haired boy’s back.
Quietly, as to not startle the young boy from his musings, Dabi sat down on the rail next to the boy. Now that he was closer, Dabi could make out more of the boy’s features. He was rather short, with a babyish face covered in a plethora of freckles. His green eyes were inquisitive, looking out over the city desperately as if looking for something, someone to stop him. His mop of green hair swirled around his face in the wind. Dabi was surprised to see he didn’t look sad. No, he looked more...resigned. As if this was some inevitable, set-in-stone fate that he had tried to avoid, but eventually failed. His eyes were those of a boy who’d finally given up fighting.
“I came up here to jump, you know,” The boy spoke suddenly, startling Dabi from his reflection. The older male was unsure what to say, so he stayed silent.
“I’ve been sitting up here for a while,” the boy continued on, “trying to convince myself to just push off the railing, and it’ll all be over. To just accept that this is my reality, but I can’t. I can’t. I’m too weak.” The green-haired boy hung his head, as if he had something to be ashamed of.
“You aren’t too weak,” Dabi said after a moment. The younger male looked up at him quizzically.
“You aren’t too weak, you’re too strong. Too strong to just throw your life away,” Dabi spoke carefully. He knew what it was like, to be teetering on the edge, only one push away from falling.
“You can’t throw away a life that has no purpose to begin with,” The freckled boy disputed.
“Everyone has a purpose. Everyone has a place. Not everyone discovers that place or purpose, but it is there, nevertheless,” Dabi shot back.
“I’m quirkless,” The short male snapped.
“So?” Dabi frowned. The boy froze, his eyes widening a fraction, a look of pure confusion settling on his face. Dabi himself was surprised at the look of pure befuddlement on the boy’s face, as if he’d never considered the possibility that he was worth more than what his quirk was- or wasn’t.
“I-I can’t do anything! I can’t be a hero, or-or use my quirk to help others, I can’t even defend myself from a couple of- bullies,” Dabi noticed the hesitation before the last word, and took a deep breath in order to stay calm.
“So? You don’t need to fight to be a hero. You don’t need to defeat a villain to make a difference. You don’t need a flashy quirk or a quirk at all to make an impact,” Dabi made eye contact with the boy across from him as he said this, announcing each and every syllable.
“But...but I-” The boy faltered.
“Why does a hero have to fight villains? Why can’t a hero just be the guy who helps an elderly person across the street? Or makes a meal for someone in need? Or who gives a shoulder to cry on and a voice of comfort to a stranger? Isn’t that every bit as wonderful, if not more so, than the guy in the spandex who punches villains?” By the time Dabi had finished, tears were streaming down the young boy’s face. The greenette brought his hand up and sobbed into the sleeve of his school uniform, overcome with emotion. Dabi’s brotherly instincts kicked in, and he leaned forward to hug the smaller male, allowing him to sob into Dabi’s chest. The boy’s sobs came out so genuinely, painfully raw, pure emotion overflowing.
“I ruined your jacket,” was the first thing the boy said when he finally regained control and pulled away.
“It’s alright. You seemed like you needed a good cry,” Dabi shrugged. The boy blushed, suddenly self-conscious of having just sobbed into the chest of a stranger for the past twenty minutes.
“M-my name is Izuku Midoriya,” The boy, Midoriya, smiled and stuck out his hand.
“The name’s Dabi. Nice to meet you, Midoriya-kun,” Dabi graciously took Midoriya’s hand, sending a small smile back to the boy.
“T-Thank you, Dabi. I-It’s getting late, I guess I should go,” Midoriya slid off the rail, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder and turning to go.
“It was nice to meet you, Midoriya-kun. Walk safely,” Dabi nodded. It was getting rather late. The sun looked like it was going to set in an hour or so.
Midoriya sent Dabi a small smile over his shoulder, and continued to walk towards the door. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back towards the older male, indecisiveness in his expression.
“I-I can’t go back home to my mother. Not now. Not...not yet,” Midoriya mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. Dabi understood what Midoriya meant. How could he return to his family, go through the motions as if everything was normal when you had just contemplated something like this?
“You could hang out at my apartment for a little bit if you’d like. It’s only a fifteen minute walk,” Dabi offered. Midoriya looked up, analyzing Dabi for truthfulness. Eventually, he seemed to realize that Dabi meant what he said, and he nodded, saying,
“Yeah, I’d like that.”