Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Quirkless

Worthless

Why do you even try?

Nobody wants you

Take a swan dive off the roof, and hope for a quirk in your next life

Aren’t you tired of trying? Just give in, it’s so easy

Other people deserve to live more

Every breath burns, tearing at his soft throat. It feels as if molten lava has been poured into his mouth, and he can’t spit it out or he’ll risk dying. He needs air to survive, but at this moment, he can't help but wish that he didn’t.  His body aches, fingers twitching against the rough cement, clawing the unforgiving ground. 

The words of everyone who ever doubted him, hated him, floats through his mind, taunting and wicked. Begging him to give up. To die. 

Blood gathers under his bed nails, ready to break off at any moment. He can’t move. But he has too. If he wants to survive. If he wants to live. And more than anything, more than his desire to become a hero, he wants to live.  A strangled scream leaves his body, as he slams his hand into the ground. 

It’s not fair, and his chest is burning with anger. Never once has life ever gone his way, he always has to fight to survive. He has to fight every morning to be allowed into the classroom to learn. He has to fight to be fed from a scathing mother who lashes out with barbed words at a moment’s notice. Fight. Fight. Fight. Izuku is so tired of fighting against the entire world. It seems everyone wants him dead. 

And yet if he gives them what they want, they win. He’ll be dead, and they’ll be filled with the knowledge that they can hurt another human being without consequences if society has deemed them worthless. Even if it’s not for himself. He will fight, so that one day another hopeless child will find that they are not alone.  He will have a heart of steel. 

He will give them the role model he so desperately desired as a child. A beacon of hope, for the downtrodden, the weak, the people who are only villains because they were never given the chance to be normal. He will fight for change. It’s all he’s ever wanted. Kacchan was always wrong. He didn’t want to be a hero because he was looking down on Kacchan. He wanted to be a hero, so he could stop others from being looked down on by the likes of Kacchan. And he can’t do that if he dies here. 

So Izuku drags himself off the ground, and onto his bloodied feet. Tears fill his eyes, and leak without pause. His vision blurs, as he stares at the ground. One of his toes is missing. He’s not sure when that happened, but it’ll need to be bandaged soon, or he’ll get an infection. When he’s steady enough he lifts his eyes to his target. 

The mountain. 

3 Days Before

Izuku glances at the news playing on a TV to his right. Two anchors sit on screen, smiles wide. He’s sure it’s meant to be calming but considering the context, it makes them out to be heartless. The pictures next to their head, is of several children who have gone missing in the last few days. 

“ It’s been a tumultuous few days here in Japan, as children from all over disappear every day. All of the children seen before you, have disappeared in the last two weeks, and a calling card left on their bed that simply stated, ‘to be continued soon’.  So far 68 children have been taken. The heroes and police have no leads as of yet, but are working hard to bring  these criminals to justice..” 

“ For now, it is recommended that children travel in pairs and stay home when possible. The victims so far are seemingly random, but that trend may soon change. We will keep you up to date here at Nippon. Tune in at 6pm tonight for any updates.” They switch over to the weather, and Izuku walks away, kicking a rock in his path. 

He can’t help but think back to what they said, about the victims being random. To most it may seem  like it, but they’d posted the children’s quirks underneath their picture. Sticky hands, mutation quirks, brainwashing...quirkless. It seems the villains have been kidnapping anyone with undesirable quirks, or no quirks at all. 

The police and heroes must know by now, and yet nothing  has been said. Izuku glances up at the sky. It’s a dark grey, matching the dreary mood that has shrouded Japan in the wake of the mass kidnappings. He can’t help but wonder if they’re covering it up because they don't care. Maybe...they aren’t actually trying to find the children. It wouldn't be the first time it’s happened, especially to the kids who aren’t what society wants people to see. 

He continues walking toward his school, feet dragging at the thought of another day in hell. Smoking palms and sweetened caramel invade Izuku’s mind like a plague.  He tries to shake the thought from his mind. The less he thinks about Kacchan the better. 

He passes through the rusty gates, hands stuffed into his pockets. It’s quieter than usual, most parents have been choosing to keep their children home. His Mother didn’t care of course, shoving him out of the house as soon as she could. 

Today she’d even told him she hoped he was taken.  “ Maybe you’ll be taken and I’ll be able to get rid of your worthless ass.”  He wasn’t surprised of course, she’d been wanting him gone since he was four. 

He slips into the classroom and takes a seat. For the first time in years, a spider lily doesn’t grace his desk. He smiles softly. Small blessings, he supposes. Three people show up to class. Izuku’s teacher, himself and Kacchan. 

It proves to be a blessing and a curse. He now has the full ire of his teacher, but the other kids aren’t there at least to make his life hell. He can deal with scathing words, and burning palms. It’s almost like a vacation. His day passes in relative peace for his hellish life until the end of the school day. 

“ Now, I was supposed to talk to the whole class about their career choices, not that it matters. They all want to be heroes anyway. But since it’s just you two, I suppose I could talk about both of your choices to try to get into UA. Bakugou, you of course will do excellent. But Midoriya, don’t you think you try for something easier? Perhaps become a janitor right out of middle school? Although I’m not sure what job would want you.”  

And when angry red eyes land on Midoriya, he knows exactly how his day will end. With burning palms, and biting pain. When Izuku comes back to himself, his notebook has been thrown out of a window and Izuku’s shoulder throbs in agony. At least Kacchan held himself back, Izuku supposes. 

He takes his time leaving, fishing his burnt notebook out of the koi pond, and taking the long way home. He grows to regret it though, when hands grab at him from under the overpass. It’s a futile fight, one that Izuku was never destined to win. And when darkness overtakes him for the second time in as many hours, he can’t help the tiny traitorous part of his brain that hopes he doesn’t wake up.  

He does. And when he does, it’s crowded and smells like piss. Someone is crying right next to his ear and his head hurts more than anything in his life ever has before. That’s a lie, but it’s pretty damn close. He opens his eyes, to find himself in a literal hole. A giant hole, in fact, that has many more children than it should hold. If Izuku could guess, they range anywhere from four to his own age. A large screen blocks out most of the sun, and blocks them from seeing out of the pit.  It’s sickening. 

And perhaps the worst part is that he recognizes them. Or at least some of them. They were the same children he'd seen on the TV just that morning. If it still was the same day. He somehow doubted it. 

He turns toward the crying person next to him. It’s a small girl, maybe nine? 

“ Hello, are you okay?” He murmurs. The girl looks up at him with teary eyes, and shakes her head. 

“ N-no. I want my mommy but a mean person took me and no one will talk to me and I don’t know where Mr.Snake is. I’m scared!” She sobs. Izuku smiles softly. 

“ It’s going to be okay. My name is Izuku. What’s yours?” 

“ K-Kotaro.” 

“ Well Kotaro, it’s going to be okay, I promise. The heroes will find us, and then you’ll see your Mommy and Mr. Snake again. Until then, do you think you could be brave for me?” The little girl nods, sniffling. 

“ Ok Mr. Izuku. I can be brave just like Mommy when she has to meet all those men at night.”  Oh...Izuku can’t help the ache in his heart. Her Mommy was most likely arrested, if she went to the police, since sex work was illegal. But it would be counter productive to tell the girl that. 

“ I’m glad. Why don’t you tell me about your quirk, while we wait?” The girl nods. 

“ Oh my quirk is called shine. I can make my palms bright, like this.” She shows her hands off, now glowing like a lantern.” 

“ Wow, that’s so cool.” Izuku gasps. They talk for a little longer before Izuku gets up. He needs to talk to the older kids. 

“ I’ll be back soon okay? I need to talk to some big kids. Be brave for me until I get back.” 

“ Okay, Mr. Izuku.” 

The older kids don’t know much either.  They’d all been taken, and woken up in this pit. When they slept, more people came in, along with food. They were never given enough to feed people, and it was mostly a fend for yourself world. It made Izuku kind of sick, but it’s not like he could do anything.  There was no contact  with the outside world, or their captors. So basically Izuku is going in blind. 

So he goes back to Kotaro and talks with her quietly for who knows how long.  Eventually he launches into a story, and soon an entire group of children is gathered around him as he weaves his story. 

“ Once upon a time, there was a small fox who was shunned from his entire pack for having bright white fur. It was considered an oddity among the beautiful orange and black foxes. The shaman of the pack declared the white haired cub a curse and banished him. The fox  wandered for many years, lonely and afraid.  It tried everything to change it’s white fur  to orange. It prayed to the nature gods, and ran around in orange flowers. But nothing worked.  He had no pack, no friends, and more than that no one to love. It was lonely for the little fox, who longed for a friend. But eventually he happened across a small village filled with all sorts of oddities. There were talking birds, and blue flamingos.  Animals of every shape and size lived in that village. But what really drew the little fox to the village was the other fox who lived there. This one was a lovely green color, that ran around and would talk to everyone it could.The white fox found its new home, and settled there, conversing with the birds, and blue flamingos. It brought gifts to the green fox and soon they fell in love. It was a peaceful existence, for the little white fox learned how to accept itself. You see, the little fox was born white, born different, and there is nothing wrong with being different, even if others tell you it is. Sometimes you just need to find the people who will never shame you for who you truly are.”  Izuku draws quite the crowd, even the older children 

And they are in this position when the TV flickers on. Izuku stops mid gesture, eyes flicking to the screen. There is an emerald green background with a plush chair set in the middle of it. Izuku waits with bated breath. And his patience is rewarded, when a man steps into frame. He’s in a golden suit, and a kitsune mask covers any defining features. He sits in the chair, and smiles, a cruel and devious smile. 

It sends a shiver down Izuku’s back.  When he speaks, his voice is soft but Izuku knows better than to trust soft voices. It’s the softest voices that can carry the cruelest words. 

“ Hello little ones. I’m so sorry we have to meet this way, but it’s for the greater good. I’m sure you are confused of course, your only children after all. But not to worry I will explain. First, my name of course. I do have manners.  You may call me Gamemaker as  that is what I am!” Izuku shudders. 

“ Now children. You see, I have a tiny problem with the heroes that I hope you are willing to help with. They are fakes, all of them. Not one of them does their job for the greater good. All they want is fame...glory...money. So I have devised a game for those pathetic heroes. And you are my pawns.” Izuku isn’t sure he’s heard right. 

“ We are in an undisclosed location, where the heroes must not only find, but then rescue all of you. And we are very...very...secure. So I’m sure they’ll have a bit of trouble but if they are a true hero it won’t be a problem. Not only that, but I hijacked a TV channel, just so we can broadcast the entire game to them! Because you, my sweet victims, will be fighting in your own way while they struggle to find you.” He pauses, smiling in anticipation. Suddenly the pit turns to chaos, screaming at the screen, pleading. 

“ NO NO. PLEASE.” 

“ LET US OUT.”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH.” It’s deafening and it doesn’t stop until a shot rings out, clear and shoots one of the children. Then it’s deathly silent. 

“ That’s it, my sweets, be quiet. Now, it won’t be so bad. I picked all of you for your worthless quirks. After all, only a true hero would want to save any of you. And I’ll torture you until they do. I’m sure many of you will die, but your sacrifice is appreciated. Just be good and it won’t be that bad. I might even feed you. And everything will be broadcast, so the world can see the failure of the heroes.” The world feels fuzzy, static buzzing in Izuku’s ears. All of these kids are going to die, and he can’t do anything. Everything is slowed down and Izuku vaguely recalls looking toward Kotaro. She’s crying silently, hands held to her mouth as she gazes helplessly toward the screen. She’s so young…

When Izuku looks around, it’s the same all around. Most of them are crying and hopeless .It sparks something in Izuku’s chest that has always laid there waiting to be awoken. Then the fuzz recedes, the world snaps back into motion and he can hear. But the most notable thing is that Izuku is now moving forward, shoving through the mass of frightened children, until he stumbles out of the crowd crashing to the ground. He can feel the eyes on him. 

“ Child, why did you move? Would you like to be my first victim?” The villain croons. 

“ Y-you’re called the Gammaker, right?” 

“ Why yes. Good job, you remembered my name.”

“ Let’s play a game.” Izuku shouts, getting to his feet. The villain pauses. 

“ Hmm? A game? What could  such a pathetic failure have to offer me.” Izuku growls, clenching his fists. 

“ A game for our lives. We should have the opportunity to fight for our lives.” He screams up at the screen. The Gamemakers smile widens. 

“ Oh...a game? I see. Do you believe yourself to be a true hero child?” He asks, fingers pressed together in anticipation. 

“ I-I don’t know what you mean by a true hero. But I-I can’t just stand here and allow you to hurt FOUR year old's. They deserve to live. So let me fight for their lives. Whatever game you want to play, I will play.  Just let me try.” The gamemaker laughs hysterically, clutching at his stomach. 

“ Oh, I like you. I do. Alright let’s play a game. I will set up three games, or tasks for you to pass. If you pass them all then you live and so does everyone else. I won’t even hurt the children until you’re done. Because if you win, then you’ll be a true hero, won’t you? Yes, I’ll allow it. But they won’t be easy child, and if you fail, they all die.” Izuku is shaking. 

“ I-I don’t care. I have to try.” The Gamemaker nods. 

“ Very well then. I suppose we’ll have an appetizer, before the real entertainment. Well heroes, how does it feel knowing a fourteen year old is attempting to fulfill your job? Already he’s braver than most of you. Oh well. For now, goodbye. It seems I need to set up some games.”  The screen clicks off and Izuku collapses to the ground, clutching at his chest. 

He doesn’t know it, but currently being broadcast across the whole of Japan is his sobbing face and sitting in a conference room, staring in shock are the teachers of UA, who are sick to their stomachs. 

“ A kid is trying to save them all.” Present Mic whispers horrified. His husband, Eraserhead places a comforting hand on his knee. They’d all been brought onto the case recently, and it was only now hitting them that the fate of all those children rested in their hands, or the hands of a literal child. 

“ It’ll be okay. We’ll save them.” Eraserhead promises. 

“ Indeed we will. And until then we can only hope they can hold out. “ Nezu murmurs and scurry's over to his computer. 

“ Come, we need to attempt to trace this signal. Aizawa-san go get ahold of the Detective please. It seems we will need more help than anticipated in this case. The top heroes in fact. We won’t let them die.” Nezu says, fingers already flying across the keyboard. 

They won’t let those kids down. They can’t. What kind of heroes would they be, if they did?

Chapter Text

“ Izuku no!” Kotaro bursts through the crowd and barrels into the kneeling boy. Izuku barely feels her, numb to everything except the pounding in his heart, and the fear seeping into his very bones.  All he’s ever wanted was to be a hero, and now he’s going to die before he even gets the chance to try. 

A sudden ache in his jaw brings him back to reality. Someone had just slapped him.  He slowly looks up, toward a teenager who seems to be bordering on adulthood. They seem familiar, though Izuku is sure he’s never seen him before. Kotaro is still clinging to Izuku, crying loudly. 

He absentmindedly pets her hair, eyes never leaving the mysterious strangers. 

“ You need to get it together. If you want to save us, you can’t just give up before  the game has even started.” He hisses. 

“ Who are you?” Izuku mumbles, rubbing the sore spot on his face. Whoever that kid was, he packed a mean punch. 

“ My name is Yonaka. Now, are you going to get up and stop crying?”  Yonaka’s nostrils are flared, and his chest is heaving. From adrenaline, or fear, Izuku couldn’t tell you. But, Izuku can tell if he doesn’t, it won’t be just his jaw that’s hurting anymore. 

So he pries Kotaro off, and stands up wiping at the tears still leaking from his eyes. His fingers are cold against his face, helping ground his whirling mind.  A crowd has started to form around Izuku once again, this time filled with silent faces that hold onto a tiny sliver of hope. That the heroes will save them, or that Izuku can pull off a miracle. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Good. I don’t need such a pussy fighting for us. You volunteered, and even if you die, you better give it your fucking all first. Which means you can’t sit around crying. We need to plan. What’s your quirk?” Izuku snorts. Of course that’s the first thing he’d focus on even though they are surrounded by weak or unsavory quirks. 

“ Don’t have one.” And just like that, hope is crushed, faces crumpling in the sea of people one by one. And then Izuku is off the ground, toes scraping the chalky soil. 

“ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE A QUIRK?” Yonaka shakes Izuku, who simply takes it. “ We’re fucking doomed.” Yonaka throws Izuku onto the ground, and kicks his prone body. “ Why the hell would you volunteer? You can’t do shit!” Izuku stays sprawled out on the ground, face buried in the dirt. 

“ And what’s your quirk?” Izuku whispers. 

“ I can make colors a shade darker, but I don’t get what that has to do with anything you bitch. You doomed us all, and if we die it’s on your head.” Izuku stares at Yonaka again. He takes in the ink stained hair, the beauty mark gracing his face. He’s almost too pretty to be a boy and after a few more seconds it clicks. 

“ You’re related to Midnight, aren’t you?” Yonaka puffs up, and his eyes glint with pride. 

“ Damn right you fucking wimp.” Izuku nods, and drags himself to his feet and anger coiling  in his stomach.

“ That’s funny. You see I thought we were all here because of the uselessness of our quirks ,or lack thereof. What good would being able to turn the ground slightly darker do you? Let me give you a hint, nothing. And I’m not sure if you know this, but Midnight is an advocate for the quirkless and undesirable quirks. I doubt she’d appreciate seeing you act like this. ” Izuku steps forward, until he’s up in Yonaka’s face. 

“  And at least I’m trying. I may be scared out of my mind, but when you were frozen to the ground in terror I moved.” Izuku scowls at Yonaka, who looks taken aback. 

“ I may die. In fact, I probably will. But just like you said, even if I die, I’ll give it my fucking all. So stay out of my way.”  With that Izuku walks away, the crowd parting before him. The hope is still gone from their eyes, but at least they aren’t making a fuss about it like Yonaka. 

He finds a quiet corner, and settles down. No one approaches, not even Kotaro allowing him to get his thoughts in order. 

So when hours later, a door slides open on the side of the pit, Izuku is ready. His stomach still feels ready to eat itself, and he’s barely holding back tears, but he’s ready. A man walks into the pit, a gun held at the ready. He wears a plain kitsune mask, nothing like the ornate thing the Gamemaker wore. Izuku meets him in the middle, allowing himself to be grabbed by the arm and yanked forward. No one speaks, simply watching Izuku’s procession with solemn expressions. They don’t offer words of encouragement, or goodbyes, they owe him nothing after all. It doesn’t faze Izuku, who doesn't even bother to glance back as he walks through the ominous opening, facing his future head on. 

He won’t give up, not until he’s dead. 

After leaving the pit, Izuku is led through a maze of corridors, and deposited into a white room. It reminds him of a hospital room, if it didn’t have any gear in it. The only thing visible in the room is a camera and a small TV hooked into an outlet. 

When Izuku sits down, it turns on showing the same background as before. And just like before, the masked man walks onto the screen, and sits down with a flourish. He has a flair for dramatics, that much is obvious. 

“ Now your name is Izuku, yes?” He croons. 

“ Yes.” The man smiles. 

“ Excellent. I had my men pull your file, but you can never be too sure. Now, I have a few questions, I hope you don’t mind?” It’s phrased as a question, but it doesn’t take a genius to recognize the steel behind the voice. He doesn’t have a choice. 

“ Of course.” Izuku sinks to the floor, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the cold ground. 

“ Thank you for your cooperation Izuku. Now I said questions, but really it’s just one. Why did you volunteer to risk your life for them? You saw how grateful they were, and let’s be honest, you won’t win. So may I ask the point in all of this?” He sounds genuinely curious, sitting forward, an excited tilt to his lips.  He’ll be disappointed by izuku’s answer, he’s sure. 

“ It doesn’t matter if I die, or if they're grateful. I need to try. How could I let them die if I have a small chance to save them. 

“ Even if you’re quirkless?” 

“ Even if I’m quirkless.” The Gamemaker smiles, his teeth bared at the screen. 

“ Of, you are a delight. I’m going to enjoy breaking you. But perhaps you will be a true hero. It’ll be exciting to see. Now, why don’t I explain the rules for the audience and you?” Izuku nods and the Gamemaker throws his hands wide. 

“ Excellent! Oh, I am excited for this. Perhaps even more than I am for the heroes to arrive. I never expected a challenger from my victims, you know. Now the rules are simple. Fail a game, and you die. Win a game and you move on. There will be three games that I will disclose now so I’m not accused of cheating. I may be a villain, but I am fair!” He laughs as if he just cracked the funniest joke in the world. 

“ Drumroll please!” He looks expectantly at Izuku, so he pats the chilly floor softly. It appeases the villain who continues. 

“ Your first game will be simple! Tw questions that you must answer to my satisfaction.  Get it right, I let you live. Lose, and I torture you to death! Isn’t that delightful? “  He doesn’t bother to wait for Izuku’s reply. 

“ The second, a rousing game of hide and seek! Of course, you’ll have about forty villains seeking you through a maze. They are free to kill you if they catch you, and you’ll have to escape the maze to win!” Izuku gulps. That sounds dangerous, and more than likely where he’ll die. 

“ Third, it’s simple. You must climb the mountain riddled with traps and people looking to kill you. Make it to the top, you win the entire game, otherwise you die.” Izuku gulps. 

“ That’s it?” 

“ Indeed. And, I’ll even give you a boon, since I doubt a fourteen year old will even get past the first level. Teenagers aren’t known for their thinking, are they?” I will release part of my coordinates with each task you complete. If you manage to complete two, the heroes can surely piece it together? Maybe not, they are rather foolish. Now, do you agree to the terms?” 

It’s almost too good to be true. The villain is either lying, or banking on the fact that Izuku won’t make it past the first obstacle. 

“ You’ll release the coordinates for where we are trapped? For real? And you won’t hurt anyone while I try?” The villain nods, spreading his hands wide. 

“ Yes, little one. I always keep my word. “ 

“ Then deal.” With two simple words, Izuku’s fate is sealed. 

“ Then I will bid you adieu. Your testing grounds are almost finished, in the meantime I will post both of your riddles here. But, you only have an hour.” 

The screen turns dark for a second before turning back on. It’s split in half, one for each side of the screen. 

Are humans born innately good or evil? And if so, do you believe villains are made, or born?

What’s more important? Following the law,  or doing the right thing? 

They’re philosophical questions that have been debated for thousands of years. And Izuku was supposed to come up with the right answer to them, when the greatest thinkers in the world couldn’t come up with a divisive answer? He can’t fuck this up, but there are no right answers, which means he needs to answer what the villain believes. 

But he doesn't know what the villain would answer! Izuku whimpers and schooches closer to the TV. He can feel the camera burning holes into his back, from the corner of the room. He’s not stupid, he knows that everyone is watching right now, to see if he fucks up, see if he fails. He can’t fail. 

So Izuku takes a deep breath, and thinks. Are humans born innately good or evil? He thinks of Kacchan, and the hands that haunt his nightmares. Of how when he smells caramel his mind blanks and he can’t breathe through the fear that slithers around his lungs. Bandaging his wounds every day, eyes dead. 

Thinks of how Kacchan wants to be a hero, even though his hands only burn burn burn. Kacchan was not good, but he used to be. Izuku thinks back to their childhood. He remembers splitting his apple juice with his overconfident best friend. The one who would get in front of anyone who was being hurt, even though his hands didn’t burn quite yet. 

The smile, that was confident before it was cruel. The hands that used to hold him before they burned. He thinks of when it changed. When everyone looked at Kacchan not as a four year old child, but as a future hero. How the teachers never stopped Kacchan, smiles pasted on as they petted the spikey locks, imploring him not to forget them once he made it big. They encouraged Kacchan to hurt, until it was all he knew. 

Kacchan used to be good, even if he wasn’t anymore. And he had the capability to be good in the future. Izuku had to believe that. And the second part of the question? Izuku thinks back to all the research he’s done on villains. On their motives. So many villains were hurt before they became evil. He thinks back to a serial killer from a decade back. 

In the prime of All Might’s hero career, there had been a little boy who was abused for years because of his quirk. The ability to paralyse his victims for an unknown amount of time. As a child, he couldn’t control it, and so people began to fear him. 

Instead of trying to help, they hurt him. Mutilated his face, called him a villain. He disappeared in highschool. Three years later the villain Scorpion appeared. 

And so many instances, just like this. Of people who were hurt for no reason, just because of some innate fear of something that would never happen, if they showed just a little kindness. The people who reached out desperately only to be told that they weren't worth it. 

He thinks of himself. From an outside perspective, he could so easily turn to villainy. He’d thought about it sometimes, but he’d never quite been pushed that far. 

Izuku glances at the clock. About fifteen minutes has passed in his musings but he knows his answer to the first question 

The second question is easier. In fact, Izuku already knows his answer to this question. He stares at the clock. He could answer now...but if they aren’t satisfactory, he could die. It wouldn’t be selfish to want a few more minutes, could it? Kotaro flashes before his eyes, her scared eyes branded into his mind. 

Of course he can’t wait. 

“ I’m ready.” He whispers into the room. He knows that he’s being watched, so it shouldn’t be long before the Gamemaker answers. And true to his thoughts, the screen flickers black before turning into the dreaded backdrop. 

The Gamemaker sits there, with a sickly sweet smile painted on. 

“ Well, well, well. That was rather fast don’t you think? Are you sure you don’t want to think for a while longer? Just to make sure?” Izuku shakes his head. 

“ No. I don’t want to second guess my answer. “ The man’s eyes sharpen behind his mask, and he leans forward, fingers steepled together.

“ Then tell me dear one, what are your answers? I am simply dying to hear them.”  Izuku fights back against the paralyzing fear on his tongue. This is it, once he answers, his fate is sealed. He licks his lips, coating the dry skin in saliva. 

“ I-I.” He shudders to a stop. Gamemaker smiles.

“ Oh, don’t tell me you're frightened? Such a weak little hero…” He shakes his head playfully. “ Well..if that is all you have to offer, perhaps I should get this over with? Hmm?”  It breaks the dam holding back Izuku’s thoughts, and he finally speaks. 

“ The first question. You're not born evil. Although I wouldn’t say you are born inherently good either. I believe you are born with the capability for both, and it’s the actions of others, and how you let them affect you that shapes your capability for good and evil. Turn you one way or another.”  The Gamemaker pauses. 

“ I’m intrigued. You're the first to ever give me that answer, so why don’t you just explain a bit for me love? Give me an example.” Izuku shudders, when he hears the pet names slip out so easily. Then he thinks back to the example he'd thought of. Kacchan is going to hate him for this. 

“ My...friend Kacchan. When we were children, he was confident, and brash but he was good. He would help me up when I fell and hug me when I was sad. His Mama had taught him to be good. But when his quirk came in, he was praised constantly, told he was better than everyone, until he began to believe it. And then the consequences stopped. He was taught he could do whatever he wanted, and nothing would ever happen to him. He was trained to be cruel. But he used to be good, and he can be good again. He was four and it’s all he’s ever known. He’s never been praised for being kind. “ Izuku takes a breath and the Gamemaker taps his chin thoughtfully. 

“It seems as if you have personal experience with his cruelty.” Izuku flinches, hands automatically wrapping around his chest. The Gamemaker catches this and grins. “ Oh...dear little one. I do believe you should take your shirt off. Let’s see the damage.”  Izuku’s breath catches in his throat. 

Not that...anything but that. But the Gamemaker doesn’t budge, not until Izuku’s fingers wrap hesitantly around the hem of his shirt, and lifts it clean off. Izuku can’t see it, but the Gamemaker actually turns white behind his mask. 

There is not an inch of free space on Izuku’s torso, littered with healed claw marks, bruises, and scars. The most noticeable are the burn scars. Starbursts cover the entirety of his chest, and in the worst places, there are warped fingerprints and handprints digging into his skin, as if an entire chunk had been blown off, in the shape of hands, and fingers. (They have) It’s enough to make a villain who is planning to murder over a hundred children sick. 

“ Your Kacchan did this?” He whispers. Izuku nods quietly. “ And you still believe he was born good?” Izuku nods again. 

“ I see the moments when even he’s not sure why he’s so angry. The moments when he wants to change. Even if he’s not good now, it’s because he’s been taught to not be good. He can still change in the future.” 

“ I assume you believe villains are made then?” Izuku nods once again. 

“ There is only so much pain a person can take before they snap. When you foster cruelty, that cruelty must be aimed somewhere. And that tends to go toward the people without quirks, or undesirable quirks. The ones that people are scared of. And you can only take so much before giving in. Villains are made. Just like cruelty is taught, not inherent.” 

“ And the second question?” Izuku takes it as a good sign he hasn’t been killed yet. He reaches for his shirt, with a questioning glance at the TV. At the nod of acquiesce, Izuku puts it back on, fabric once again hiding Izuku’s secrets. 

“ I believe… a true hero understands that not all laws are helpful or right.” He gives an example before it can be asked of him. “ If I come across a clearly abused child, I would take them home with me, damn the consequences. It would break the law. I wouldn’t have proof, or evidence, and it would be considered kidnapping of a minor, but I would do it. I would rather give up my entire hero career, than allow a child to go back to a home that hurts her. Or there are so many laws that ban the quirkless from even getting a college education. We’re considered a waste of space. As a hero, I would fight back against it, because laws can be wrong. “ He takes a breath. 

“ Justice shouldn’t be decided on the whims of corrupt politicians working only for  monetary gain. I would do what I considered right, even if it’s considered wrong by the law. Heroes work for the people, not for words written on a piece of paper.” 

With that, Izuku falls silent, hands curled in his lap, ultimately waiting for the gunshot through the head. But it never comes. Instead slow clapping echoes around the room, coming from the TV. 

“ You know, I ask those questions to every single hero I kill, and none of them have ever managed to answer it to my satisfaction. And yet, here you are. A quirkless teenager who is more heroic than their left pinky. You pass to my surprise. Congratulations.”  Izuku feels like he’s just been by a bus, the air leaving him in a giant rush. He passed?

“  Our latitude is -23.23318. Longitude: 79.74277. Heroes, I suggest you get here soon, before people start dying.” Gamemaker croons. The door opens and Izuku is guided out by another masked figure. The Gamemaker stares at Izuku’s retreating form with interest. He reminds him so much of someone dear to him. 

Izuku is in shock as he’s led away. He really passed. He’s alive. He can still save them, he just has to try harder. Determination fills his heart once again. He can do this. He will do this. He just needs to hold out for the heroes. 

He’s led to a large open space, filled with brick walls. He’s walked around until he’s dizzy and doesn’t know left from right. . He ends up in a room with four doors, that is filled with weapons, and other useful items. The masked individual leaves, as soon as Izuku is situated, and a TV comes down from the ceiling. 

The familiar sight of the Gamemaker, greets him. 

“ Now Izuku, as you remember you will be playing a rousing game of hide and seek, with forty of my esteemed henchmen. There is only one exit that you must reach from the middle of this maze. I have graciously gifted you with all of these items that you may use as you please.No one will enter this room, but once you leave it’s fair game. And of course, quirk usage is allowed.” 

  “ If you don’t reach the exit, then you will die. It’s as simple as that. I may peek in on you as I wish, but once you leave the maze head toward the mountain and start the next test immediately. Perhaps you will make it to the top? Hmm? I suppose we will see little hero. Good luck and put on a good show for the fake heroes, alright?.” 

The TV turns off, and Izuku begins to pick through the supplies. There are swords, guns, traps, flashlights, night vision goggles, anything he could ever want. Only, he doesn’t know how to use most of it. He grabs the night vision goggles. It goes well to assume that it’s going to be dark when he goes out again, with all the night related items. 

There are even clothes, and they’re in the right size as well which is freaky as fuck. Izuku does change though, preferring the dark colors, to his white T-shirt and shorts. He stays away from the guns, and swords. No point in grabbing something he doesn’t know how to use. He plays with knuckle dusters for a while, but he wouldn’t be strong enough to use them anyways. He’d also prefer not to be coles enough to use them. 

He needs something for defense, though. So he keeps looking. Eventually he grabs a bunch of knives. He looks around some more, and finds a bunch of round things that don’t look particularly useful. But perhaps he can use them to distract the villains coming after him. Something he’s seen on heroes that allows them to climb stuff.  He grabs a few more things that seem vaguely useful then takes a deep breath. 

There’s even face paint, which Izuku uses to paint his face black and grey, to blend into shadows. A mirror sits to the side, and Izuku stops  in front of it. 

He looks cool...Izuku can’t help but think. He wears army pants, and the pockets are strewn with odds and ends, that won’t be too hard to use, and easy to grab. His face is obscured behind the paint, and a club sits on his back. Knives are strapped to his chest, and determination glints in his eyes. 

He looks like a hero. And maybe it’s a bit stupid, especially because he knows this is being broadstreamed to the public, but he begins to speak to himself in the mirror. 

“ I know it’s terrifying. I know you’re scared. But there are people counting on you, so you're going to get out there, and kick ass. You may not know how to fight, but you are smart, and you know how to dodge. You know how to make yourself disappear. You can do this.”  He takes a few deep breaths, and reaches deep inside him. 

Down to the anger. He’s so angry, at Kacchan, at the Gamemaker, at his Mom. At everyone who has ever hurt him. And if Kacchan has taught him anything, it’s that you can use your anger beneficially. So Izuku grabs it, and for the first time in his life allows his anger to flow through his veins. He will wreak havoc on these villains, because right now he’s the only one who can. 

Izuku moves forward, steps sure. And right before he leaves the room, his eyes catch on something he hadn’t seen before. Something he doesn’t need to know how to use, to use effectively. He grabs it, throwing it across his back along with the club. He’s ready to destroy them. 

Aizawa’s POV

“ We have the coordinates. He  actually gave them.” Vlad  murmurs incredulously. Aizawa slams to his feet. 

“ We have to go. NOW.” His husband is right by his side. They are stopped by Nezu, and Hawks. The number ten heroes had joined them rather quickly, once it all started to be broadcasted. 

“ Not so fast. First we must verify. We don’t want to head to the wrong place, or be led into a death trap. I just need five minutes to get sights on the place by satellite imaging.” Nezu mumbles, fingers flying across the board. He’s right. It doesn’t take more than five minutes for him to pull  up the satellite images. 

It’s a small island, with a mountain in the middle of it. Perhaps the most damning thing is the pit in the middle. A few more minutes of studying, and Nezu can confidently say it’s the correct spot. 

“ He actually gave it.” Hawks whispers. 

“ Indeed. How curious. Villains almost never give up their true locations. Perhaps he’s not there? Or maybe he intends to blow the island up once we are all on the soil?” Nezu’s brain is going 600 miles a minute. 

“ Nezu. We don;t have time to second guess, or proceed cautiously. Currently there is a child fighting so no one dies. Who knows how much time he has, or when the villain will go back on his word. If he dies, it’s on us. We have the coordinates, and confirmation that it is the right place. We can’t speculate.” Aizawa roars. He’s never this illogical, but he needs to save that kid, who is so fucking brave. 

“ Aizawa, we will get there. But we must be patient first.” All Might strides forward, to rest his hand on the heaving teacher's shoulder. Aizawa knocks it off roughly. All of the top ten are seeing Aizawa blow up, but he doesn’t care. That is a child, children who are about to be murdered on live television.

Hizashi himself looks pissed, his lips clasped together in an attempt to not scream his frustration. Midnight sits to the side, hands clasped together. She’d had to leave when she’d seen how her family treated Izuku. And she hasn’t said anything since she returned. 

“ No. Aizawa is correct. Normally I would  be more cautious, but we don’t have time for that today. All Might, Hawks, I would send you forward, but we don’t know what is waiting for us. Instead, there will be a plane waiting for you. It’ll take five hours, but we have no other choices. Now go. I will stay here and report back to you all. Keep your earpieces in.” With that, everyone is out the door. 

THere is no time to spare. Aizawa pulls up the feed on his phone to watch Izuku Midoriya literally pick up a fucking flame thrower, and waalk out of his safe haven. 

“ We’re coming, kid. And nothing is going to hurt you ever again, once me and Hizashi find you.” He’d nearly gone on a manhunt when he’d seen the scars, and he knows that he and Nezu will be destroying a school soon. But first, they need to save the kids waiting on them. 

Izuku’s POV 

Izuku uses the climbing claws to climb to the top of the brick wall. He’d been right in his assumption that it was dark, so the night vision goggles rest over his eyes. He uses his vantage point to study the layout. The maze is about the length of two football fields, with tons of narrow corridors, and large passages. He can even see the exit, glowing in the far distance. In between them, he sees countless people wandering among the passages, some even in two or threes. It’ll be treacherous, but not undoable. 

He begins to creep forward, preferring to stay on top of the wall. If things go his way, he’ll be able to stay on top of them until the end. Then he could avoid villains altogether. The first time he comes across a villain, he holds his breath, crouching low and hoping in his mind that he won’t be noticed. 

To his relief, he’s not. The villain moves forward after a few moments, allowing Izuku to continue on his way. Of course his luck doesn’t keep up. The second villain seems to have some kind of dragon quirk, maybe an alligator. His body is covered in scales, and he carries a sword, dragging it along teasingly behind him. 

Izuku once again stops, in the hope he’ll move on. The man pauses right next to Izuku's wall, and begins to sniff. Izuku freezes even more, and begins to inch backwards. He’s going to need to ru-

“ Agk.” He gurgles, from where he’s been slammed up against the wall. It’s tail had come from nowhere, sweeping him off his feet and into the wall. It holds him there, spines digging in uncomfortably. 

“ Finally. I’ve been waiting for a good meal since I joined up. I hope you don’t mind if I take a bite?” The villain croons, smile showing off deadly incisors. Izuku gulps, fingers scrambling in his pockets. The villain doesn’t have any goggles, but perhaps he has night vision. It doesn’t matter in the long run. The villain leans in, maw opening wider. Izuku shoves against the tail in terror. His fingers catch on a knife. Izuku yanks it out desperately. Right before the villain strikes, Izuku sinks a knife into its eye. 

It glances off of the bone, Izuku thinks, but it’s enough. The man throws himself off, tail lashing out, as he holds his face. The tail hits Izuku in the ribs, and Izuku hears a crack. He knew that sound, Kacchan had broken his ribs before too. 

The pain is sharp, and Izuku can only pray he doesn’t puncture a lung as he scrambles around a corner. He can’t afford to stop, so he doesn’t. He knows he won’t be able to get back on top with broken ribs, so he’s confined to the ground. He grabs the club off of his back. He’ll need to be more cautious. He's barely been in here for thirty minutes. 

The next few hours are some of the most terrifying of his life. He stays low to the ground, creeping along the walls, and turning corners only after checking. He tries to avoid the villains when he can, but occasionally they are in his direct path out. So he’ll stand up on those instances, and stalk forward. 

He doesn’t escape unscathed. He’s lost his boots at one point, and his foot aches so fucking bad although he’s not sure why. He can’t bring himself to look. By the time he makes it to the exit, he is covered in blood, his and the peoples he’d bashed their brian in. Mostly his. 

He’s so close he can taste the freedom, even as his brain whispers traitorous thoughts into his heart. 

He steps out of hiding, shaking from blood loss. He’s lost most of his weapons by now, only the flame thrower strapped to his back now. But there's only one more villain to cross before he can leave. In front of the exit gate, an unassuming figure stands, but Izuku knows the truth. He’s seen this villain before. Codename Viper. Known for releasing toxic fumes, at any given moment that would kill Izuku in seconds. 

For the next fight, he can’t breathe. Which means he has to strike first. 

“ Oh...so you made it this far? I truly thought those  imbeciles had gotten you. Although I suppose they gave you a run for your money.” Viper growls, looking at Izuku’s blood soaked figure. Izuku hisses quietly, stumbling forward. 

“ Get out of my way.” 

“ No can do. I have to kill you to get the reward. Over a billion yen to kill a quirkless butch. Too easy. You really surprised the boss, and he’s even had to give up our hiding spot. The heroes are almost here, and it’s your fault. Naughty boy.” With that viper strikes, venomous clouds rolling away from his body as he reaches to claw at Izuku’s face. But Izuku is faster, whipping out his flamethrower and letting loose. 

He doesn’t care if it draws others toward him, he doesn’t care if he burns. He’s used to burning. He just needs to save everyone. He lunges forward, past the man who is on fire, and through the burning entrance. He doesn’t care that his skin is bubbling. He’s used to pain, to fire, to the burns on his skin. He just needs to get through. 

And he does, ignoring the screams of anger echoing from behind him. He collapses onto the ground and takes a deep breath to ease the ache in his burning lungs. He made it through the second task. But his head swims from the blood loss, and everything hurts. The idea of getting up and continuing seems impossible. 

As he struggles to continue, he can’t help the words echoing back at him. 

(Present day)

Worthless

 Why do you even try?

 Nobody wants you

Take a swan dive off the roof, and hope for a quirk in your next life

 Aren’t you tired of trying? Just give in, it’s so easy

 Other people deserve to live more

 Every breath burns, tearing at his soft throat. It feels as if molten lava has been poured into his mouth, and he can’t spit it out or he’ll risk dying. He needs air to survive, but at this moment, he can't help but wish that he didn’t.  His body aches, fingers twitching against the rough cement, clawing the unforgiving ground. 

 The words of everyone who ever doubted him, hated him, floated through his mind, taunting and wicked. Begging him to give up. To die. 

 Blood gathers under his bed nails, ready to break off at any moment. He can’t move. But he has too. If he wants to survive. If he wants to live. And more than anything, more than his desire to become a hero, he wants to live.  A strangled scream leaves his body, as he slams his hand into the ground. 

 It’s not fair, and his chest is burning with anger. Never once has life ever gone his way, he always has to fight to survive. He has to fight every morning to be allowed into the classroom to learn. He has to fight to be fed from a scathing mother who lashes out with barbed words at a moment’s notice. Fight. Fight. Fight. Izuku is so tired of fighting against the entire world. It seems everyone wants him dead. 

 And yet if he gives them what they want, they win. He’ll be dead, and they’ll be filled with the knowledge that they can hurt another human being without consequences if society has deemed them worthless. Even if it’s not for himself. He will fight, so that one day another hopeless child will find that they are not alone.  He will have a heart of steel. 

 He will give them the role model he so desperately desired as a child. A beacon of hope, for the downtrodden, the weak, the people who are only villains because they were never given the chance to be normal. He will fight for change. It’s all he’s ever wanted. Kacchan was always wrong. He didn’t want to be a hero because he was looking down on Kacchan. He wanted to be a hero, so he could stop others from being looked down on by the likes of Kacchan. And he can’t do that if he dies here. 

So Izuku drags himself off the ground, and onto his bloodied feet. Tears fill his eyes, and leak without pause. His vision blurs, as he stares at the ground. One of his toes is missing. He’s not sure when that happened, but it’ll need to be bandaged soon, or he’ll get an infection. When he’s steady enough he lifts his eyes to his target. 

 The mountain. 

Every step is agonizing, as he pulls himself along. But at last he’s at the base of the mountain. And then he climbs. Only, he can’t get up, because every step he takes, he’s exploded back to the ground, as if Kacchan is here, reminding him, he’ll never make it to the top. But no matter how much it hurts, the blistering of his skin, or the fall back to the ground, he gets up and tries again. 

Because, every time he goes back up, he gets one step farther to his goal. It doesn’t seem to be the only thing the Gamemaker wishes to throw at him though. More villains come, this time in the daylight, and with nowhere to hide, and a mountain of mines to wade through. Still Izuku continues, running even when it hurts, doing things no fourteen year old should have to do. He makes it to about the middle of the mountain before he’s faced with someone he killed. He’s sure he killed others in the maze, he’d bashed enough heads in. 

God he set someone on fire. But at the middle of the mountain, he finally uses the little beads he’d picked up, which turn out to be little bombs, he was carrying around. He throws one at the girl in front of him, and it blows her apart. It’s more powerful than the shit Izuku is dealing with right now. 

Perhaps, if he wasn’t running on pure adrenaline and shock, he would have thrown up at the sight of the  scattered and dismembered pieces around him. As it is, he simply continues forward, one foot in front of another. 

Another rib breaks when he’s hit in the side by a log. He’s nearly set on fire, after tripping a wire connected to a flame thrower. His hand is crushed when he grabs onto a tree for support, and instead it’s trapped by a wire as a log comes hurtling at him. 

It’s either his hand, or his head, so he ducks. 

He’s pretty sure he’s broken something besides ribs at this point, but he’s in too much pain to notice. He also doesn’t notice the explosions above him, a man with red feathers, fighting against a horde of villains. He doesn’t notice the heroes arriving as he makes it to the top of the mountain. 

He doesn’t notice that he’s won. All he knows is that he can’t stop, so he continues forward, shuffling along, coughing up blood. 

Save them. 

Save them

Save them

Save them

Save them

It’s the only thing echoing in his mind, the only thing keeping him going. He doesn’t notice the Gamemakers arrival, who clicks on a button, shutting down all the defenses. He doesn’t see how the Gamemaker is studying him in awe. He doesn't notice when the Gamemaker is tackled to the ground by a furious Present Mic, or how close he is to the edge of the mountain. He only knows he must continue and save them. 

He doesn't remember who he’s supposed to save anymore. He doesn’t hear the murmur of the Gamemaker.

“ Who would have thought, it’d be a 14 year old quirkless child who saved everyone. A true hero.” 

He only comes too when a scarf is wrapped gently around his midriff, and he’s tugged backward. He tries to fight the villain, as arms wrap around him, but it seems his body has finally given up, collapsing against Eraserhead, resigned to his fate. 

He couldn’t do it. So, as he’s lowered to the ground, he lets out a heartbreaking sound, something no fourteen year old should be able to make. 

It’s a sound of grief, and raw terror, of realizing he did everything he could and still lost. His voice echoes in the air, pungent and scared as he screams himself hoarse. And Aizawa can do nothing, but hold him close, until his eyes finally flutter closed, and he passes out. 

“ Rest. You deserve it kiddo. And I know you don’t realize it, but you saved everyone. I promise you did.” 

There’s healing to do, and problems to be fixed but for now Izuku is safe, and Aizawa will make sure it stays that way. 

Chapter Text

The lingering smell of antiseptic is not what Izuku was expecting when he woke. To be honest he wasn’t expecting to wake up in the first place. Consciousness returns in waves. At one point, he thinks he feels a hand curled in his, but he’s pulled back under before he can look. 

Other times he can hear faint voices speaking above him. A hand threaded into his curls, warm and grounding. When he’s floating on the edge of consciousness he can’t help but crave the knowledge of who’s treating him so kindly. He can’t remember the last time he was touched without the intent to harm behind it. 

When Izuku finally wakes up he’s alone. He’s not sure why he expected otherwise, but he can’t help but think of those warm touches when he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t imagining them? He doesn’t know how long he lays there simply staring at the ceiling, body numb.Now that he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t know how he’s here, how he’s alive.  He didn’t remember anything except pain at the end. 

But he was here, which means the heroes came and saved the day. He stalled enough for them to come. A tear trickles down his face. He doesn’t bother to wipe it off, doesn’t think he has the capability to anyways. 

He’s so lost in thought, he doesn’t hear the door open, or the people whispering. He’s only brought back to reality by a hand settling into his curls, grounding and firm. He blinks slowly, the world coming back into focus.  

A face hovers over him. The man has eyebags basically embedded into his face, and patchy facial hair that looks itchy. Long black hair hangs loose around his face. What draws Izuku in though is how warm his eyes look. Izuku can’t remember anyone who ever looked at him like that. Not his Mother, not Kacchan. No one. 

“ Are you finally awake kiddo?” 

“ I-”His voice cracks from misuse. Izuku suddenly becomes aware of the aches that litter his body. And while it hurts, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as Izuku thinks it should. 

“ It’s okay, don’t talk if it’s going to hurt you. You were screaming quite a bit for a while there, it’s no wonder your throat hurts.” Izuku nods his understanding. The man presses a button on Izuku’s bed, and suddenly the bed he’s on is being lifted up. It allows Izuku to glance around curiously, without having to move his body. 

There’s three other people in here besides eyebags, and himself. One is clearly a nurse, if his scrubs have anything to say. The other is wearing a long trench coat, and the last is dressed in civilian clothes. His Mother is nowhere in sight, to Izuku’s relief. His eyes trail back to the civilian dressed one. 

He has long blonde hair that is tied up in a bun, and a tiny mustache on his upper lip. Green eyes peeks out from a pair of tinted glasses, and once again Izuku is shocked by the amount of warmth that resides in them. He can’t help but wonder why Present Mic is here, in civilian clothes. Is he in trouble?

The nurse brings over a glass of water, which Izuku takes gratefully. Hands hover over his, as he gulps it down in the chance he drops it, he assumes. 

When he’s down, his throat is less scratchy and Izuku attempts to speak again. He has too many questions to not speak. 

“ Where am I? What happened? Who are you? When can I go home? Why is Present Mic here? Am I in trouble?” His thoughts spill out uncontrollably, and he doesn’t stop blurting out questions until a hand is in his curls again. He focuses on the grounding weight instead of the swirling thoughts in his mind. 

“ It’s okay, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. We’ll answer them, don't worry. But I don’t want to forget any, so leave the rest until I answer the others, okay?” Izuku nods. 

Present Mic creeps closer. “ I’m impressed you recognized me little listener. Very few people know it’s me without that iconic hairdo.” Izuku shrugs again. 

“ Well, I suppose we should start with introductions then little listener, I am Present Mic, but you can call me Hizashi, or Yamada if you’d prefer. The grumpy one next to you is my husband. You can call him Shouta or Aizawa okay?”  Izuku looks up at Aizawa-san. He doesn’t look grumpy, he looks worried, although Izuku isn’t sure about who.

“ And I’m Detective Tsukiauchi. It’s nice to meet you Izuku. “ Izuku stiffens as soon as he hears Detective. So he is in -

“ You aren’t in trouble at all. I’m mainly  here to update you on some stuff, and give you options.” that eases the tension in Izuku’s body slightly. Yamada-san takes Izuku’s other side and when he does the Detective begins to speak again. 

“ First of all, I represent Japan as a whole, when we thank you for your service.” Izuku blinks.  What?” “ We failed you, in more ways than one. You should never have been forced to fight not only for your life, but the lives of 116 other people. That was a fault on our part, and I swear to you it will never happen again. And there are thousands of other people who wish to thank you as well. But we’ll wait until you feel better for that.” Izuku doesn’t know what to say. He’s being thanked? It’s not like he’s a hero. All he did was-

“ Of course you're being thanked kiddo. We as heroes failed you. If you hadn’t gotten the coordinates we never would have found any of you. He was too well hidden. And even then we were too late. You had already beat the game by the time we arrived. The Gamemaker came peaceably and kept his promise. You saved the lives of 116 people. It should never have come to that. Not only did we fail you in that aspect, but those kids were the kids the Gamemaker knew wouldn't be missed or reported. The system failed you kids, and for that we are also sorry But you are a hero..” Aizawa-san says firmly. 

His words are making Izuku’s brain hurt. He’s never been useful, he didn’t save those kids, the heroes did, he only stalled. That should have been all. He’s  not a hero. 

“ Izuku?” Izuku looks at the detective. 

“ You’ve been in a coma for two weeks. You have nerve damage in your arms because of what you did. When we found you, one of your ribs had pierced your lungs, and you had injuries littering your body. We found you walking toward the edge of the mountain because you thought you had to keep going. You saved them. You are a hero, and things have started changing because of you.” Izuku blinks and chooses to focus on the last thing instead of the headache causing words the Detective had also uttered. 

“ C-Change?” 

“ As you know your entire game was broadcast all over the world. Quirkless never meant useless, but you’ve now proven it. Laws are being appealed all over the world, people are speaking up and out. It will take a while, but things are changing for the better for people with weak, villainous or no quirks. Kiddo, you sparked a movement, with your determination and grit. How selfless you were, and how you refused to give up, even when you could barely move. It isn’t fair, it should never have happened but good came out of it.” Izuku gulps and his eyes mist over. 

A warm hand in his is all it takes for the tears to flood over. All his life he’s been told he was a worthless Deku, but here were people saying he wasn’t. That he helped people. He can’t help the next words that slip out. 

“ D-Do you think I-I could be a hero? For real?” The answer that comes is immediate.

“ You already are a real hero, but if you mean a licensed one, then yes. You’re smart, determined and intuitive. You don’t need a quirk to be a hero, it’s simply a tool, one that can be easily replaced kiddo.” Aizawa-san says. He bursts into tears again. 

It takes a while for him to calm down, and when he finally stops bawling, he finds himself wrapped into Aizawa-san who is holding him softly and whispering encouraging things in his ears. 

He can be a hero. It’s all he’s ever wanted. 

The next few weeks are a blur. Shock after shock is thrown in his face. He finds out that Kacchan is being prosecuted, something he tries to fight at first, but every argument he tries to make in favor of Kacchan is brutally torn down by Aizawa-san. 

And Aizawa and Yamada-san are a whole other thing. They’ve stayed by his side the entire time, and after he finds out that his Mother is also being prosecuted they offer to adopt him. He’d accepted immediately, because they were warmth, and kindness.  When Izuku thinks of the two heroes, (he’d also realized Aizawa-san was Eraserhead, when he came in with a scarf) he thinks of a future that isn’t so bleak. One where he doesn’t commit suicide before eighteen.

One where he’s happy. 

Izuku wants that future more than anything. 

He’s met more heroes in the last weeks, than he has in his entire life. He’s met heroes who have bowed low and apologized for not saving him. Someone wanted to save him! 

Things haven’t suddenly turned into sunshine and rainbows of course. He has nightmares, ones that wake him up screaming himself hoarse. Sometimes his brain can’t turn off the self deprecating thoughts and all he can think of is how worthless he is. 

He’s torn at the bandages that lay around his arms, because they remind him too much of burning hands. Sometimes he loses himself to hallucinations that want him to die, to kill himself. 

But now he has a chance. He has people who care, who grab his hands and gently massage them when they grab at his arms too hard. He has people who remind him of his worth everyday. 

He has the promise of therapy in his future, and cats, when he’s allowed to go to his new home. He never has to see Kacchan or his Mother ever again, and he even smiled once when Aizawa-san dumped his coffee  all over himself, when Yamada-san snuck up on him. 

And he has letters, from the people who he saved, from the families who loved their children. And even from people who weren't a part, who could simply watch. That say he’s inspired them with his determination. 

He’s learning day by day, growing. And one day he’ll learn how to laugh again, and he won’t flinch away from the smell of sugar. 

He’ll be able to let strangers touch him. The nightmares will go away, and he’ll be able to move on.  He’ll be a hero, taught at UA. His spot was guaranteed by Nezu, who when he’d tried to protest simply being let in had said, “ To get into the hero course they have to beat robots to get points. You beat over forty villains and saved over 100 people. I don’t need to see you fight a hero to determine your heroic nature. I would be a fool to let someone like you slip through my paws.” 

And how could he argue with that? Yes, he has a long way to go, but things will get better, and for once Izuku actually believes that. 

He’ll be a hero, one that will save anyone he can. That he promises. 

Chapter Text

Alternate Ending

Aizawa stares at the small body in front of him. He'd insisted on seeing the body, even though it was a closed casket funeral. The wounds had been too gruesome and unfixable to allow others to see his body. 

Tears are dried on his face, and his eyes burn with the one's he hadn't allowed to fall. He'd failed. Izuku Midoriya put his all into that fight, and he won. He saved over one hundred people, even though he was hurting, in pain, even after he shouldn't of been able to physically move, still he fucking moved. Because he wanted to save them, be a hero. God, right now he fucking hates heroes. Life had really screwed the kid over, all he'd ever known was pain. And yet, that kid had still volunteered to try and save everyone. He'd given his life for a world that had given him nothing.  Heroes hadn't given him anything. Izuku was never saved, he'd been let down by everyone who should have helped him. 

Aizawa places his hand on Izuku's face. The skin is cool to the touch, of course it is, the kid is dead. Aizawa's shoulders are shaking with silent sobs. He'd failed. He'd been so fucking close. He'd gotten the kid, saved him from tumbling over the edge, but it'd still been too late. The kids fucking ribs, had pierced his lungs, and they hadn't been able to get the kid to a hospital in time to save him. 

Aizawa had held him, listening to his last breaths, seen the blood bubbling out of his lips. He'd failed. And now this kid had no future. He'd given everythign to save people who didn't even care. It made anger burn in Aizawa's gut. He wants to rampage, scream, break something...or someone. 

He wants to make the people who hurt this child, until he thought he didn't even fucking matter, until he broke his body until it gave up on him.  He wants them to pay. Aizawa strokes the small boys hair one last time, and steps away. 

When he leaves the funeral home his shoulders are no longer shaking, and his movements are purposeful. He's going to kill everyone who let this kid down, let this kid get hurt. Because Aizawa can no longer call himself a hero, if he couldn't even help the one child who needed him. So after he's killed everyone who has ever harmed Izuku, he'll kill himself, because he let that child down just as much. 

But first...the others need to pay.