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At age 5 his heart skipped a beat in the doctor's office, he watched everyone’s eyes darken. His heart faltered when he was pushed down by Kacchan at the park. But he wasn’t broken. Not yet.
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On his tenth birthday kids began suicide-baiting him. The kids spat words at him, barely comprehending the weight of what they said.
That night he whispered to himself, ‘stay strong’ over and over until he fell asleep. Despite his efforts his dreams were stained red. He wore a white dress shirt, laying in a field of white spider lilies, the sky mirrored the image, and as it cracked thick red fluids spilled out of the gaps, staining him and the lilies. He woke from the dream, a piece of him left behind in the walls of his mind. He thought of the dream with fondness, it was peaceful. He cracked.
——————
As he grew older, he realized that his dream was about death and oh how it called his name.
At twelve years old, he sat alone on a roof after a particularly bad day. He watched numbly as blood dripped from his wrists, hitting the pavement far below. His way of thinking was corrupt, if he painted himself that pretty red color from his dreams something would change, something would improve, the peaceful feeling would return. Alas, he was far too broken to be fixed without help.
——————
Izuku was thirteen when he met him. Izuku was sitting on the roof again, this time he was dangling his shoeless feet off the edge, counting the scars running up and down every inch of his body. The numbers were too high, the memories too painful. He began counting backwards, wishing the scars disappeared with every number. His scars were ugly, but no matter how much he tried, he always felt the itching need to see red.
“Hey kid, what are you doing?” A voice spoke, succeeding in pulling him out of his head, he immediately hugged his arms to his chest. This stranger didn’t need to be victim to viewing his scars. “Just people watching” Izuku said, his eyes trained on the pavement below. He feels a shift aside him, the silent presence joining him. “So you wouldn’t mind if I join you?” The man asked. Izuku shrugged. They sat silently, Izuku’s arms still hugged to his chest, his feet swinging back and forth over the edge. His childish curiosity got the better of him when the man didn’t move for a long time, he looks over to see who’s next to him. Izuku recognizes the scarf on the man, he’s sitting next to Eraserhead?!? “Eraserhead sir, don’t you have more important work to do?” The Erasure hero’s eyes widened, taken aback by the boy’s use of his hero name. “Roofs are dangerous place to leave someone alone, this is plenty important.” Eraserhead states, not bothering to conceal his implications, that catches Izuku’s attention. Izuku sighed, he didn’t want to waste the hero’s time, surely he would’ve left if it weren’t for the fact he didn’t know Izuku was quirkless. He stood up, the feeling of the Pro-Hero’s eyes following him to his shoes and bag laid. He put on his shoes, admiring the familiar color of red. He grabbed his bag, glancing back at the hero, their eyes meeting. “Not today.” He smiles sadly. The look on the Hero’s eyes is enough for Izuku to know, the man understood.
——————
Izuku was fourteen when he finally hit rock bottom. Any love he still held for Kacchan was thoroughly put out. Snuffed out by only a sentence. “Just pray you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof of the building.”
The thought echoed through his mind as he walked home. What would Kacc- Katsuki do if he went through with it? Would he be guilty? Would he even get in trouble for suicide-baiting?
His thoughts drifted as he walked under a tunnel. A rattling noise echoed out from behind him, just great, did one of his tormentors follow him? He felt himself get engulfed by a thick fluid. It crawled in through all his body cavities, violating him, filling his throat, burning his eyes. “You’re a perfect skin suit, just don’t struggle and this will be over soon.” A voice spoke into his ear. He didn’t thrash against the force, he didn’t have the energy. The sludge slipped into every crevice, every hole in his body, forcing itself into Izuku’s mouth, the taste was putrid. His body went limp as he blacked out from lack of oxygen. A gust of wind blew into him.
He felt a large thing tapping his face. His eyes fluttered open and there stood All Might. Like THE All Might. Damn, maybe he did die, is this all a dream? He scurried to grab his notebook, attempting to flip it to a blank page. I mean dream or not he was going to ask All Might for his autograph. He flipped to what he thought was his next blank page, only to be met with the sight of ‘ALL MIGHT’ written in pen ink on the page. His eyes shot towards the figure of All Might in front of him. “Thank you so much sir!” Izuku exclaimed, followed by “Could I ask you something?” “I apologize but I really do have to get going..” Izuku understood. The hero definitely had better places to be. All might got into position to shoot off, but Izuku’s eyes met the open pocket where the bottled sludge villain was kept. That pocket was not going to keep the bottle there. He reached onto the Hero’s leg quickly in an attempt to secure the bottle, only to be forced to hold on for his life as the hero shot off.
His eyes were forced shut by the wind pressure, his arms wobbled as he tried to keep his grip tight. “What are you doing kid, let go.” All might said, his voice booming over the wind that roared in his ears. “With all due respect sir, if I let go I’ll die.” All might let out a fake laugh, and what sounded like an ‘oh’, before lowering down onto a roof.
Izuku took a deep breath, fast change in air pressure is no fun. He felt dizzy, sewage residue stuck to the walls of his throat. But none of that mattered because his idol was right in front of him, no matter how out of it he was, he had to take advantage of the situation. “All might sir! Can a quirkless boy become a hero?” Izuku asked, his usually tired eyes glowing with hope. The hero’s smile dulled, “Sorry young man, but they can’t. They would simply be a liability, consider a safer profession such as police work. Now I really must go.” All might said, turning his back on the boy and leaping off the roof.
The words echoed in Izuku’s head as he stared off the roof. The world was spinning and his head was light, he stared off into the distance, looking out off the edge. Maybe his peers had the right Idea.
He silenced those thoughts as he laid on his back, he couldn’t die now, there would be too many loose strings. If the school was looked into, Katsuki could get in trouble and as much as Izuku didn’t want to care about the boy who tormented him, he couldn’t find it in himself to cause trouble. Even worse if the police looked into the CCTV footage of him jumping, they would see the interaction with All Might. Izuku looked at the sky, the way the clouds moved slowly, the sun going down. It felt as though the world was crashing inwards on him, his dreams crumbling before him. His eyesight faded to black and he passed out.
-
A thud on the roof, followed by a pair of fingers pressing gently on his neck, woke him. A familiar silhouette loomed over him. The man took a step back when he noticed Izuku’s eyes were open. Tears formed in sage eyes. He sat up, his chest burned, he coughed up sewage, tears spilling out faster as he recalled the events of the day. The man was standing aside Izuku, looking on in horror at the mix of blood and green sewage coming out of the boy.
The man was none other than Eraserhead, his deep voice breaking through the sound of coughing and crying. “Hey kid, what the hell happened.” Izuku composed himself, ignoring the pain in burning his throat and eyes, no matter what was happening to him he couldn’t be a burden. “I had a rough day. I apologize. I can’t believe this is the second time I’ve interrupted your patrol.” Izuku said, looking at the hero’s face as he connected the two meetings. Izuku couldn’t blame the hero for needing a second to recognize him as the same boy from a year ago. “I thought you were dead, you had that same look in your eyes.” Eraserhead spoke softly. “The look that suicidal people have? Yea, I had a feeling you recognized it. Don’t worry, I haven’t tried anything since then.” Izuku confessed. “Kid, the look is worse now… why are you up here, are you okay?” Eraserhead asked, his eyes drifting to the puddle of blood and sludge.
Izuku broke.
Silent tears flowed from his eyes, leaving hot wet trails on his cheeks. He wanted to tell the hero everything, but everything that was pushing him off the edge, was simultaneously the string that kept him floating, preventing him from ending it all now. “Where are your parents, when did you get up here, why were you unconscious?” Eraserhead asked, his concern only growing at the lack of answer and supply of tears. “Please leave Eraserhead. I’m only preventing you from helping people.” Izuku choked out. “You aren’t preventing anything, I’m trying to help you kid.” The hero said, causing Izuku to break out in a painful chuckle. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to help me if you knew.” “Knew what? Kid, I don’t even know your name! Does it have anything to do with why you’re coughing up blood and sewage?” Izuku shook his head slowly, “My name is Midoriya Izuku. And this-“ Izuku said, gesturing to the puddle next to him, “-is just my bad luck, getting attacked by a sludge villain after school, and then being left on a roof by… a hero.” Eraserhead’s eyes widened, “A hero left you here, and they didn’t even check if you were okay?!?” The hero said, his voice rising in anger. “What did the villain do to you!?” Izuku suppressed the urge to flinch, reminding himself that this anger wasn’t directed towards him. “His quirk turns his body into sludge, he was on the run, when he came across me he tried to crawl into my body, suffocating me in order to use me as a skin suit.” Izuku tenses at the memory “I was saved from suffocating, but the hero accidentally shot into the air with me, they left me on this roof before dashing away. I guess I passed out because of how fast the air pressure changed and the remaining sludge in my system.” Eraserhead wanted to scream, who allowed that hero to get a license. “It’s now my priority to get you to a hospital, that sludge definitely can’t be healthy..” Izuku’s expression darkened, he smiled sadly at Eraserhead before standing up, “They will turn me away if you take me to a Hospital.” Izuku said, brushing himself off. “That’s ridiculous, they can’t do that.” Eraserheads stated matter of factually. “Yes they can. I’m quirkless.” Izuku reached for the roof access door, he didn’t want to hear the response. Something wrapped around his wrist, he winced and turned back. “I understand… but at least let me check you up, for my peace of mind. Please, Midoriya.” Eraserhead pleaded. Izuku was frozen, he had never had anyone react like this to his… defect. “Fine.”
-
The pro-hero had a modest apartment, larger than the one he lived in, but still modest for a hero. Izuku sat himself down, choosing to wait for the hero as he got the first aid kit. He was still on guard, there was always a chance that Eraserhead lured him here to hurt him, even if the man was a hero, that didn’t exempt him from being quirkist. Eraserhead walked back into the room, huge first aid kit in hand. “I need you to take off your shirt so I can check for external injuries.” The hero stated. Izuku shook his head, “I’ll let you feel for broken bones, and even check for any sludge that might still be in my throat, but I’m not taking off my shirt or anything else.” Izuku said, not willing to expose his scars. The hero sighed but reluctantly complied, doing a quick concussion test on the boy, followed by shining a light down his throat, taking his temperature, and feeling his ribs and arms for signs of fractures. “Your temperature is normal luckily, but you have two fractures in your ribs and sludge still remains in your system.” The hero poured some cranberry juice into a cup. “The best course of action is to try and detox you, hopefully your lungs did a good job filtering out anything that will cause you harm, other than that, throwing up might be relieving. As for your ribs… don’t aggravate them, and take advil if they hurt too much.” The hero said, trying his best to keep his tone stern with the boy. “Why are you doing this for me.” Izuku asked, his eyes scanning Eraserhead, looking for signs that he was a threat. “Because you’re a kid, and you didn’t deserve the cards life gave you.” Eraserhead responded without hesitation, nearly bringing Izuku to tears with how confident he was in his answer, as if it was the norm to think like that. “You’re the only one who thinks like that. Thank you.” Izuku said, standing up and going to the door, before turning to look at the hero on more time, before disappearing back into the night.
——————
It was less than a month later that Izuku found himself on a roof again. He sported a brand new 2nd degree burns on his torso, along with a concussion, being pushed down by an explosion didn’t spare him any pain. He had tried to stay strong, holding onto the sliver of kindness that Eraserhead had shown him. Unfortunately, it was too late for Izuku. Peeking out from under his clothes, scars trailed down his arms and legs, the almost invisible reminders were white, old, and small but impactful. The purple and red scars throbbed, the color of the scars doing nothing to hide the evidence of recent events, these were reminders that as he got older he was shown less and less mercy. He swung his legs freely over the edge of the roof, counting his scars until the number got too high for him to continue, each was a reason, a push. He traced his fingers over them, reminiscing on how receiving each of them felt. He felt a gentle breeze greet his face, ruffling his curls. No more pushes were needed. Izuku stood up, turning himself so he couldn’t face the edge. He tilted his head towards the sky, throwing his school blazer and notebook to the side, letting the sun shine on his scarred body. He let the breeze whip around him, wrapping him in a hug as he leaned back, gravity taking its course as he flew. The meeting with the pavement was like a movie kiss. Izuku vision returned to the field of white spider lilies, his blood staining the field. He was at rest.
——————
Aizawa wasn’t one to publicly express emotion, as an underground hero masking was his specialty. But that didn’t make him emotionless.
He was sitting at his desk, laptop opened in front of him, and his phone on standby. He found himself thinking back to the dull sage eyes that made the moonlit night seem bright in comparison. He typed the name into his search bar, all he needed was an address. The nearly gut-retching cry that followed the results of the search caused him to cover with his hand, “Quirkless teen Midoriya, Izuku, Age 14, Pronounced dead upon arrival.” He didn’t need to read the cause of death to know what happened. His hand gripped his phone tightly as he dialed a friend, “Hey Tsukauchi, I need to ask you something-“
-
Upon arriving at the Police office Aizawa was handed a notebook, “This is the only thing found at the scene other than his school uniform. Please read it.” Tsukauchi said, leaving Aizawa to have a moment alone. Immediately the water damage and burns on the notebook raised red flags. Aizawa carefully opened it, the pages displayed professional-level analysis on Kuami Woods and Mt Lady. The kid had a talent. He flipped to the next page, In bold was All Might’s signature, it would’ve looked like a normal signature that a fanboy would receive, except for the pencil stabs around the signature and the faint remains of erased words, ‘quirkist’ ‘hero’ ‘right’. The next page was worse. This was it. Izuku’s note.
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Dear Reader of This Note, I pray that you are a pro-hero or police. If you aren’t I apologize for any trauma that finding my body may have caused you, but if it’s any consolation, know that I’m quirkless, this was bound to happen. Just another number in the statistics. There are four people who I’m writing to, I hope they read this.
#1 Mom
Please stay strong, I wish there was a way where I wouldn’t have to leave you. Know that you weren’t a bad mom, you were way better than most get stuck with, but this was a long time coming. I want you to go find dad, I know you still love him, and it’s my fault he left anyways. Don’t let my departure hurt you, keep working hard like you always have, and find someone who can take care of you instead of relying on you.
#2 All Might
You probably won’t read this. But just know, I’m grateful to you. You were right, I could never be a hero. But don’t feel bad for crushing my dreams, even if I could’ve become a hero, I would’ve died on the field and having control of my death is better. Continue being the symbol of peace for those who need it.
#3 My Tormenters (I will not be specifying names)
You were an unfortunate product of society, raised to believe your quirk was the only thing that defines you, being praised for pushing down the weak. I don’t want you to completely shoulder the blame of my death, many things pushed me to this. You should feel guilty though. I want you to carry that guilt, I want you to use it as motivation to fix yourself. Be better, if not for me, you.
#4 Eraserhead
Thank you for showing me kindness, thank you for worrying about me, thank you for trying to save me. You are the only one who ever has. Forgive me for not being strong enough, society was too cruel, and I was too weak. I know that you will blame yourself, I saw your eyes, they are already filled with guilt and pain, similar to many heroes who couldn’t save someone. I want you to know that you did save me, not my life, because that was already long lost. You saved me in a different way, you let me leave this world knowing what kindness felt like, knowing what it felt like for someone to worry about me beyond pity. Stay strong.
I was a child when I first dreamt of death. I truly hope it is as peaceful as I remember, embracing me like a hug, painting my white vision red.
I’m sorry I couldn’t try harder.
Love, Izuku.
-
Tears stung in the hero’s usually dry eyes. Aizawa had barely gotten a chance to really meet the kid, and now he was gone. Izuku suffered for so long, he was a victim at the hands of society, he bore too many scars for a child. Yet he wasn’t filled with anger towards the world, his entire letter was dedicated to comforting and helping others, fixing things so no one would have to feel like him.
If only Aizawa could’ve taken the boys scars, mental and physical.
Izuku would’ve been a great hero.