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Midoriya Izuku has always been a half-full glass kind of boy. Or maybe the tap never closed, so the glass overfilled, that’s why his sparkling eyes of an early moss patch colour never stopped smiling. But if the tap had never closed in his case, then some of it spilled over, and it affected others negatively. It affected reality. No, it was not a quirk, a miracle, or anything similar. It was just a fate written for him by his creator. Maybe it was in the stars, or on a piece of paper, but no one would know for sure, of course they wouldn’t. Those with pure souls, still untainted after so many incarnations, they needed to suffer. Don’t ask him why that is, he has no answer. Not even his creator has an idea.
Midoriya Izuku was, at the age of four, reduced to a Deku. Some angry words had labelled him just fine, and it didn’t take even a day for it to cement itself in his life. That name by which he would be called through kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, maybe his whole life. A useless person, his Izuku convoluted into a Deku. But he was still an Izuku for his mother. For neighbours, for strangers on the street, for his shoes supplier, for the bookstore lady that always had some plain notebooks for him to buy.
And Izuku took it all head on, carrying it with him, the labels, the sadness, the anger, the hatred. But there was also pity, love, encouragement, kind smiles, warm eyes, tender wrinkles of gratitude that elderly had when he carried their groceries if they happened to head in the same direction. This child, from four to fifteen, carried a burden almost no one understood. He was quirkless in a quirked society. A small chance that could have happened to anyone, it hit him in the gut, telling him that he couldn’t, no, shouldn’t, NO, mustn’t be a Hero.
To be a Hero, the occupation that came with great danger no matter the class, you had to have a quirk. That’s how it was written, it was wired in everyone’s brains. But, Izuku Midoriya was a crybaby who couldn’t share his own pain yet could alleviate others’. And so, he was still standing, the want to be a Hero, a Pro Hero, too great for him to detain it. So what if Fate gave him a shitty hand? Even if he failed, he would just be called a Deku, something that he was used to, no matter how much more it stung than his childhood friend’s quirked explosive burns.
But as he was nearing his fifteenth birthday, the spider’s thread he had been holding onto had snapped. It was worn down by his scratching, grabbing, ever present twisting, and if someone really looked hard, they would see sooth at one of the ends of it. Katsuki Bakugou, nicknamed Kacchan, had told him something he never heard from him before. It didn’t matter that he burnt him again, that he ruined yet another one of his analysis notebooks, it was what he said that threw him into stupor. ‘If you want it so bad, do us a favour, take a swan-dive from the roof and pray for a quirk in your next life.’
His childhood friend, who gave him his first label, brand, proclaiming him Deku, had finally said what many others thought and indirectly expressed. He told him to commit suicide, crystal clear to anyone’s ears. Unfortunately, that anyone was his underlings, some ‘extras’ that hung around his friend and laughed at this. It was malicious, disgusting, but they thought it was all in good faith. They had done it out of mercy, they could say. His dream was unachievable anyway, they would say. He’d learn a lesson, they thought they knew.
And Izuku had been shaken enough to consider it. To seriously consider it. His backpack on his shoulder, his legs led him to his middle school’s rooftop. He opened the bleak doors, and actually did not expect such an alluring sunset. He stepped forward, again and again, coming closer to the fenced edge. But he just held onto the fence, looking at the sun abandoning them for that day. It had yellow, orange, blue, purple, violet, lilac in it, even the reds and greens. They complemented each other so well, and he wondered, what was the difference? Could he and his childhood friend never be on the same level, always separated by a chasm of prejudices and misplaced expectations?
He knew that it was probably so, even if no one answered his fleeting question. And doubt rose in his heart. Was he really worthy of the title of a Hero? Was his lack of quirk so much of an obstacle that he would never be what he aspired just half an hour ago, a Hero worthy of All Might’s praise? He sat down, looking at the sunset longingly. He had read it somewhere, couldn’t really remember where, or even when. You would get burned if you flew too close to the sun. He has become an Icarus, and Kacchan was his Dedalus, even if it was a little forced. He hadn’t heeded pleadings, warnings, threats, and his waxen wings melted under Sun’s intensity, and he fell, ripped out of the ecstasy of flying.
He sighed, all too tired from thinking, his brain working non-stop. He didn’t feel loved anymore. All the masks he wore fell, and his heart, his glass, cracked, spilling out some water, and the tap closed. His soul hurt, withering with each negative thought. In the end, what was he worth for? Just living out an ordinary life, maybe not even that, below average with his labels and discrimination he faced every day. His grades didn’t matter. His brain wasn’t usable. His kind nature, as his mother indicated so many times, had given him happy moments, but also too much undeserved leniency for others.
He was still sitting when the sun set, leaving with the colours, dispersing them to welcome night. Inevitable time of the day when secrets were uncovered for many. Secret identities, family troubles, life troubles, poor decisions, lost lives. He looked at the stars and prayed for a second chance, no matter how it presented itself. He wanted to help. To save. He was even ready to relinquish his life for another’s. He just begged. ‘Give me a chance,’ he begged his creator, Fate. But he had no idea that his future had already been skewed, just by going to the rooftop.
He would never get attacked by the sludge villain, he would never ask the number one Hero, All Might, if even a quirkless could be a Hero, and get shot down. He would never prove himself by saving his friend and receiving an apology from that same Hero, and being offered a quirk, the miraculous One For All. He would remain quirkless, and away from the most prestigious hero high school, Yuuei.
~
It was time, he thought, to go home. He would not kill himself over someone’s hissy fit, as it was what seemed appropriate to describe it. But he didn’t blame himself, he couldn’t. It was sad that he thought he should listen to Kacchan. Take his advice for once. He wasn’t regretful either, as he got to see a beautiful sunset, and reflect on his thoughts, beliefs, convictions. But then, it sprouted in him, that everlasting seed of need to be. If he has already fallen after flying too close to the sun, wouldn’t he be safer in the darkness of the night? It was just a question. Just a wandering thought, he told himself. But it lodged itself deep inside, taking roots once again.
His late hour arrival to his home was met with a tearful embrace from his mother. She sobbed into his shoulders, making herself smaller than she was. She clinged to his clothes, begging him to never come so late again, not without calling her. She had been scared. Terrified even. Shaking hadn’t lessened until late into the night. It was because she knew. It was because when he came in, his smile had been a bit askew, his eyes red, his hair messy, singed. His eyes didn’t sparkle as they always did. It was weakness that she saw, something common, but almost unimaginable in her boy. She knew, he had keeled over, and she felt that she could have never seen him again if he didn’t make it home tonight.
‘’Mom,’’ it was a disturbing whisper without a stutter, ‘’I won’t aim to be a Hero anymore.’’
Her breath hitched. No, no, this was her boy. He would not give up, no matter how much she wanted him to. ‘’I won’t hear such things from your mouth, young man! My baby, my boy, you’re a treasure to this world, do not give up on it. Don’t give up on a dream and life you had been yearning for!’’
She just received a tired sigh, oh how it hurt, and an even tighter hug. ‘’Mom, it doesn’t matter. After all, Hero is just a title. A vain one. A big one. A wondrous thing and just another label. It won’t get me rid of the others. It is, I think, time to give up chasing it. I’ll just admire it.’’ His hug transferred his stifled sobs, making Inko's heart clench. His words sounded hollow. So hollow.
‘’Mom, I want to transfer schools.’’ He received a nod. It was all he needed. He knew that by now, she knew for sure, and he would give her an outlet, even if it was destroying Aldera Junior High to pieces. It was not the time for forgiveness, not anymore.
~
Scoping the internet in his bare room, devoid of All Might Posters and figurines already sold on auctions, Midoriya Izuku was watching videos. But it was not the heroes who he was watching this time. Nor villains. It was the grey area that he decided to observe and mumble over. What makes a Villain deserving of such a title? His crimes, deeds, words. What makes a Hero? His achievements, deeds, words. But what makes a Vigilante a one such person? His illegal use of a quirk, unlicensed seemingly heroic deeds, and vague words that offended both sides of the coin. Except that Vigilante was not a coin, but the table the coin spun on, waiting for it to fall and label the Vigilante as heroic or villainous.
It had been a week since he stopped coming to school, Kacchan even bothering to come once and dared to ask, but seeing Izuku’s face was enough. He was alive, after all. His mother was building a case against the school and had already told him that there was no need for another school, he could just go through some home schooling before entering a good high school. It would be good, she promised, and he guaranteed. That part of his future was settled.
He decided to add some changes to his life, do things he never thought of, so he watched various videos, in the end choosing callisthenics and parkour, as well as mixed martial arts. After all, he had half a million yen from the sold merchandise and plenty of free time. He would use it. After getting permission from his mother and showing her the places, she accepted, but didn’t allow him to pay for it all. At all. Apparently, the case on Aldera Junior High had been going well, and the number of people willing to stand against their once-abusers was growing by the day. That was nice.
~
Izuku was clumsy, yes, it was a thing he would admit, but parkour and callisthenics felt natural, easy though challenging. Mixed martial arts did not go as well as he thought it would, but he learned slowly, adjusting and adjusting again, time after time. That got him admiration from his trainer. Soon he was learning one-on-one with the owner, and made progress that he hadn’t expected to come so fast. He had become agile, bendy, but had a mean kick and a solid fist to use. There was no hunched back anymore, stuttering disappeared that night on the rooftop, and Izuku was growing. Just milk was not enough for a person to grow, as it seemed. Broader shoulders, less baby fat, lithe yet muscled body, and mended mind, Izuku transformed week by week.
It’s been five months since, and he graduated early. A plus on his resume, in any case. His mother glowed, having lost some weight and even getting into getting some muscle herself. It was an ordinary evening and they dined, attacking homemade dumplings, when Izuku slipped.
‘’Mom, I still want to save and help people. What can I be that is close to being a Hero, but not being one?’’ Inko choked on her dumpling, then tried to cough it out. She put her chopsticks down and the atmosphere tensed as Izuku waited for her answer. As time passed and the clock ticked, Izuku wondered if he asked the wrong question. What if she tried making him change his choices again?
‘’Izuku, to be honest, the best route to go would be to become a policeman, or maybe a doctor, or even a lawyer, like me. All those professions are close to the definition to saving a person and their life.’’ Izuku wilted a bit, but then his mother continued, ‘’But that’s not what you wanted to hear, right?’’ She stood up and placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle beneath it. He changed so much in so little time. And she knew what he had veered into. Now, whether to support it or not, that was the question. Seeing his eyes, awaiting her judgement, she knew he would listen this time. And she knew that opposing the decision he was on verge of making would cut him off from her. She decided to support his new goal. After all, the law did not apply to him. A hidden blessing.
‘’So, what will your Vigilante name be?’’ The answer was instantaneous, it flew out of his mouth without a pause, not still registering what the question meant. ‘’Icarus.’’ He gasped, letting his chopsticks fall. He had been caught, he had been discovered, he would not be able to do it…what?
‘’Nice to meet you, Icarus. I hope to be your backup in the future.’’
At this, Izuku cried. It does not need to be described how ugly it was, how he soaked his mother’s T-shirt, and how giggles intermingled when he felt relief. She was standing on his side of the ring. She was up for it. And she knew. Decided to let him be free. ‘’Mom, Kacchan told me to kill myself five months ago.’’ It was a spur of the moment decision to tell her this damning information. ‘’But I did not. I’m so glad I didn’t. Thank you for giving birth to me, for letting me take this path. I hope to work with you in the future.’’
‘’Of course.’’ Inko tightened her hands on him, bunching his T-shirt in her fists. She would endure. He would be safe with her. She would take a first-aid course, teach herself how to mend wounds, and she would teach him the loopholes in those damned laws. If not the best Hero, he would be the best Vigilante. ‘’I will be the night you run through. I am Nyx.’’ Her jaw clenched, she had to talk to a certain someone, but Izuku didn’t have to know. ‘’Izuku, baby,’’ she took his face in her hands, ‘’we’ll be the best duo ever, right?’’
~
It had been a month since he started parkouring on the rooftops, it was fun, exhilarating. He paid attention to every sunset, letting the night settle down, and then coming back home after a good street workout and mapping the Musutafu area. He had it almost wholly in his head by now. It was important to know it. From time to time, he would send her a voice message that he will stay a bit late to stargaze. Which was what he did, often more than not too near the edge of the rooftop he would be on. He still hadn’t become Icarus, but he was forming, shaping inside him. When he let him go wild, no one will know that Izuku who was called a Deku once upon a time has become Icarus, and had Nyx by his side.
He was lying on the rooftop of a rickety old building, taking a picture of the beautiful scenery that was unexpectedly visible from there. He sent the picture to his mother, who sent him a thumbs-up in response. She sent him a picture of his favourite food, a big, juicy bowl of katsudon. He got up fast, eager to get home fast, and jumped into the air, intending to parkour his way down when something wrapped around his torso, pulling him back. He fell and hit the floor of the roof hard. He groaned, and turned around. A man in a black jumpsuit with a white scarf and yellow goggles stood there, his expression tense and undeniably angry, if his flaring nostrils were anything to go by. He recognised him.
‘’You’re…Eraserhead, right?’’ His voice lilted a bit at the end. ‘’Why did you do that?’’ Izuku asked, pointing to his capture weapon.
‘’You were trying to kill yourself, didn’t you? How can you be so flippant about it! If I hadn’t-’’ Izuku decided to cut in. ‘’If you hadn’t stopped me, I would just parkour my way down and go home, though. I have no intentions of dying.’’ He saw how the man who looked worse than a hobo stiffened a bit at his statement. ‘’Eraserhead, not everyone wants to die.’’ Maybe it was harsh, but he had to say it. After that, silence reigned.
‘Shit, shit, I did a stupid thing out of reflex, assumed, just assumed because he was on a roof. God, what do I do? Oh, yes, I leave. I’ll just leave, I’m not ready for this much shame, the boy even recognised me!’ His swirling thoughts were interrupted by Izuku standing up and coming to him. ‘’Sit with me.’’ That’s what the kid requested. And so Aizawa did, as the time for his patrol was in two hours. He didn’t want to open his mouth again.
‘’You know, Erasehead, it’s nice to see that someone cares, no matter the way it’s shown. Do you see it, that constellation? The Big Dipper. I’m still trying to find Icarus, but no luck. There’s just something so beautiful about colourful sunsets and night skies full of stars, right?’’ The boy hummed to himself, clearly thinking what to tell him next. It seems that he just needed someone to listen.
‘’Each star is a person. I’ll become a doctor, Eraserhead. And I’ll save as many stars as possible, because without them, there’ll be no light in the dark.’’ Aizawa just nodded, mute from beginning till the end. It was a little speech so full of conviction. He didn’t expect it.
Minutes later, the child, he noted, got up and went to the edge. He turned his head to him, his dark green hair and freckles illuminated in the moonlight making him seem more of a child than he was. ‘’Don’t stop me this time, I can do it.’’ He watched as the child really did it and how he went away running.
Three months later
‘’Hey Eraserhead! Nice seeing ya again! Gonna try and catch me again? Come on, let’s jump!’’ Aizawa seethed. This little nuisance had been pestering (though he was actually helping big time) him for two months now, and he didn’t even know his name, let alone his quirk and appearance. He knew that the guy was chipper tonight, if he was inviting him on a goose chase. He indulged.
The lights passed by, not even disturbing them from this game of cat and mouse. Only stars and the moon. It was bright enough to see well and jump from one rooftop to another without problems. ‘’Hey Eraser, you still don’t know my name, do you?’’ The voice was deep, sounding completely natural, letting Aizawa assume that the vigilante in front of him was in his early twenties. He was about 175cm too, he noted for the hundredth time. Nothing changed. He activated his quirk on instinct, trying to intimidate.
‘’Yeah, so what, you are going to tell me?’’
‘’No way!’’ The teen giggled after screaming those two words into thin air. He felt so free, and he played tag. How long was it since he last played tag? And he did it with a Pro Hero. He couldn’t really tell the Hero that now his room was decked out in custom ordered merch of the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead. Those half a million really came in handy. But he could clue him in. Would he? Yeah, he would.
‘’Eraser, don’t you think that colourful sunsets and these clear nights are perfect for stargazing? Rooftops can become second chances, and stars inspire. And sunsets only tell you that a day has ended, but it will come around. It’s great for us, isn’t it?’’
Aizawa froze, recognising that first sentence, that night on the roof of a rickety building. No way!
‘’I didn’t find that constellation, so I became it!’’
Aizawa snapped, ‘’Damn Problem Child, come back at once!’’ This was a kid, and he was playing him like a fiddle.
Izuku Midoriya laughed, knowing that his mom was sleeping by now, and that a bowl of teriyaki was waiting for him in the microwave. This was so fun. And he had an unusual friend, even if he was chasing him right now. It would be a great life.