Chapter Text
He remembers how it began, that day when he realised, "I guess you don't really need a quirk to do this stuff". The day he swung his bag and faced a villain, something he had been dreaming about doing, had been obsessing over and had watched being done countless times.
He was finally there and had been almost utterly defeated, the screams of the people, shouting hero's- *his* eyes .... Everything is second to the moment of pure victory and flow he felt after hitting the villain in the eyes.
When, for just a second, he, Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless boy, had defeated a villain- for a second.
Even though what followed was in no way his victory, and had All Might not saved the day he would probably not be alive.
That second of victory was enough to convince him that he could- if he trained enough- take on villains as a normal human being.
And apparently, All Might had the same thought.
"Midoriya my boy, have you heard of Bruce Lee?"
An almost forgotten name from the days before quirks came into existence, most people thought he was a legend- as in, not real.
Izuku did his research, found scraps of video's and old, old, old movies, where it seemed impossible- that such a person did exist-
For half a year he trained at the beach, kacchan had stopped bullying him and by default so had the others, he even managed to have a conversation or two with his classmates, though he was never able to make a friend.
Then summer break of middle school began and he knew what he had to do next.
Time was running out, he had to master as many styles of martial arts he could in a short amount of time.
" I do not believe in styles" Bruce Lee had said.
But Midoriya did not have the luxury of being philosophical, and so he had to.
And so on the middle of summer break, he bade farewell to the old, familiar street he grew up in, to Japan and .... He considered telling kacchan, but refrained.
He liked to think that they had parted at a good place.
Although he knew he would meet kacchan again, especially if his plan was successful, it was hard to leave him behind, he was a constant. A grounding presence. The image of victory. A part of Izuku's small world and worse than the fate of failing to be a hero was what lay ahead, a nothing between him and kacchan, from friendship to hate, he could endure it. But what was truly unbearable was the thought of being no one to kacchan, that he would fail to illicite a single feeling aside from apathy that he would no longer be a part of *his* world.
*He* who occupied half of Izuku's own world.
To be nothing to him, no one to him, was unbearable.
Be water, my friend.