Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“No!” Izuku lunged for his notebook, but was held back by two of Bakugou’s lackeys. Helpless, he watched as it fell through the air and landed in the koi pond. It should have been fine, but since Bakugou had nearly incinerated it, Izuku highly doubted that.

He felt the small pinpricks of tears forming on the backs of his eyes, so he lowered his head and blinked rapidly. The last thing he needed was Kacchan to see him cry. Unfortunately, he was too late, and they all began to laugh, mimicking him with the most exaggerated facial expression Izuku had ever seen.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Is poor baby Deku crying because of his notebook?”

“What makes you think a worthless Deku like you could even get into U.A, much less be a hero?”

“Hey Deku, here’s some advice. If you want to be a hero so bad, why don’t you take a swan dive off the roof and pray you’ll be born with a Quirk in your next life.”

Izuku froze.

What.

Being Kacchan’s “friend”, he knew how to deal with a lot of stuff. Insults? Sure. Trapping him under the floorboards for a day? Meh. But suicide baiting him? That was the one thing he couldn’t handle.

At this point, he expected to wake up in his bedroom and find that it had been all a dream, because he’d been having a really shitty day. His mom had taken someone else’s shift, so she wouldn’t be home until very late at night. Then, as he had been walking to school, some random girl from his class used her hair manipulation Quirk- that Quirk would be very good for rescue missions if she could increase the length and volume of her hair to wrap around more people, as well as both ranged and close combat if she could shape it and change the texture- to steal his bag before throwing it away somewhere, which meant he was late for school. His teacher (being one of the most Quirkist beings Izuku had ever had the misfortune to meet) had given him after-school detention, which meant that he couldn’t run away from Kacchan and the others like he always did. And, to make things even worse, the same teacher had told the entire class that Izuku was applying to U.A, which brought him to this moment.

Right here.

With Kacchan absolutely destroying any remnants of friendship that might have possibly existed.

With Kacchan telling him, straight to his face, that he was worth nothing.

That he was nothing.

That he would never be something.

And he didn’t even care.

There was a slight pause. A shift in expressions, something that Izuku couldn’t quite place or name. But then it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and they all began to shout, “Swan dive! Swan dive!” Kacchan left the room, and the others followed suit, broad grins making their eyes wrinkle in glee.

Izuku felt numb, slightly dazed by what had happened. He waited until the group had disappeared safely around a corner, before rushing to the koi pond where the notebook (or what was left of it) floated. As he had predicted, the once pristine pages were now drenched and covered in ashes and soot, and every time he so much as touched it, it would slowly crumble, dissolving into the green waters. Eventually, he gave up on trying to salvage it and held it underwater, until it had completely dissipated. He stared at the water intensely.

“Useless”

“Worthless”

“Stupid”

“Deku”

For a brief moment, he considered jumping in, or at least submerging his head. He wondered how long it would take. He’d read somewhere that it took around 10 minutes, but he wasn’t entirely sure of the accuracy of that statement. Guess he’d have to find out.

Wait.

Was he seriously…considering this?

No. No no no no no-

He couldn’t. His mother…she was already stressed, working longer hours whenever she could, constantly checking on him, asking about everything and anything. She didn’t even know about the bullying, he was just incapable of breaking her heart like that. Killing himself would be the last straw for her, and he couldn’t do that to her, not after everything she’d done for him. And Kacchan…if he killed himself, they would talk to his mother and his mother would say “Oh, he was such a happy child, I don’t understand why he would do this!”, so then they’d investigate and then someone would tell them what Kacchan had said and then he’d get in big trouble and his hero career would be ruined forever and it would be all Izuku’s fault, just like everything else that happened, it was all his fault-

Izuku paused, before chuckling to himself. The entire scenario was just…hilarious. Even after everything Kacchan had done to him, had told him to do, he still cared about him. Because otherwise…who else could he go to? Apart from Kacchan, he didn’t know anybody. And they all considered him to be the “weird Quirkless weakling”, so it wasn’t like he was making any new friends anytime soon. Crazy as it was, Kacchan was the closest thing he had to a friend. He couldn’t just get rid of that.

He really was a weak-ass Deku, wasn’t he?

Izuku stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking home. As if the world had decided to play some big cosmic joke on him, it began to rain, droplets pelting him as he walked. He supposed it matched his mood, although he wondered what his mom would say if he came home soaked. It was getting late, and she must be so worried. Stupid Deku. There was one person in this world who actually cared about him, and he couldn’t even do anything to thank them.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that he didn’t notice the swirling mass of green slime behind him. By the time he realized, it was too late, and he was submerged in the sludge-like substance. His survival instincts immediately took over, and he kicked and punched, screaming at the top of his lungs, although no one could hear him with the sheer volume of slime in his mouth. “Don’t worry,” a grating voice chilled his body, “I’m just hijacking your body. Calm down. It’ll only hurt for about 45 seconds…then it’ll be all over.”

Izuku’s limbs dropped. Less than a minute…that sounded good. He didn’t have to feel guilty or anything, because this wasn’t his fault. It would be less painful than other deaths he could have experienced, and Izuku was so, so tired…

As his eyes were fluttering shut, he heard a booming voice.

“DO NOT FEAR, CIVILIAN, FOR I AM HERE!”

All…Might?

Suddenly, the villain exploded, and he fell, hitting his head on the hard concrete. It didn’t take long for Izuku to lose consciousness, the ringing in his ears gradually growing fainter.

***

Izuku rubbed his head, eyes darting around his surroundings. He could hardly remember what had happened. There was this sludge villain, and he was dying, and then All Might ca-

All Might came.

"W-wha…ALL MIGHT!” Izuku scrambled to his feet, bowing repeatedly as the hero was about to leave.

All Might smiled. “Oh, greetings, my boy. I hope you are alright.”

“Y-yes A-All Might. Thank you for saving me!” Izuku internally grimaced at the half-truth. He wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t been saved, but for All Might to save him? The number one hero? The Symbol of Peace? His idol? He couldn’t have been any happier. Even though he was the number one hero, and probably had a lot more important people to save…oh. He should probably apologize for that. “

I’m sorry for bothering you All Might!” He hoped All Might wouldn’t be too mad when he realized that he’d wasted his time saving a Quirkless weakling like him.

“My boy, you didn’t bother me at all! It’s my job as a hero to save people!” He winked.

Izuku frowned. “Well, I guess you’re right…”

All Might dusted himself off before flashing Izuku his signature smile. “Well, it’s time for me to leave. Gotta take this criminal to the cops before he can escape again!”

It was at this point that Izuku decided to do something both incredibly stupid and incredibly dangerous. He could have easily died, but Izuku had gone past the stage where he cared about that anymore. Just as All Might was about to leap into the air, he had grabbed onto All Might’s trouser leg, causing him to travel with him. All Might must have noticed the extra weight on his leg, because he looked down, only to see a slightly pale Izuku.

“My boy! What are you doing? Get off!”

“If I let go now, I’ll die!” Not that he cared.

All Might pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fair enough. The next building we see, you’re gone. Okay?”

Izuku winced. “O-okay…”

As All Might had promised, they landed on the next building visible through the clouds. Izuku looked at All Might, silently calculating the risk. Now didn’t seem like the most opportune moment to ask him, but if he didn’t ask him now, he might never be able to! You didn’t just pass by the number one hero on the streets!

Izuku closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. “All Might! I just have one question. Could a Quirkless person like myself ever be a hero?”

There was a brief pause, interrupted only by the sound of air hissing, as if it was being let out of an inflatable. Finally, the hero collapsed to the floor, barking out an English swear as he was enveloped by steam.

“All Might! Are you okay?” He tried to clear the steam away, but it was too hot, and he recoiled as it burnt his hand. When the steam finally cleared, there was a skinny, skeletal man where All Might had once been. The man wheezed, “I- I am-” but was cut off by a cough of blood.

“You’re not All Might!” Izuku cursed himself under his breath. Of course a stupid Deku like him couldn’t tell the difference between All Might and a shapeshifter, who was most likely a villain going to kill him. Great. “

No, I am indeed All Might. This is just my true form. You see, there was a villain attack five years ago…”

Izuku listened to All Might as he spoke. He knew he should say something, but what could he say? All Might had been defeated. All Might had lost! Who was this villain, strong enough to take down even the Symbol of Peace himself?

“Ahem,” he coughed slightly, “I do believe you had a question.”

“Oh, r-right!” Izuku stuttered. “C-could someone Quirkless like me be a hero?”

All Might’s face twisted, as if he was unsure of what to say. Despite that, Izuku didn’t give up hope. If All Might said yes, then he wouldn’t have to worry about Kacchan or school or society in general, because he would know that All Might considered him a hero. Maybe then he’d finally find something to live for. At last, All Might spoke.

“Look, you heard what I told you. Being a hero, it…it just isn’t safe. I’m super strong, and now I’m missing my stomach and half of my respiratory organs. Someone like you wouldn’t last a week. You know, there are other…safer, easier ways to help people. You could always be a police officer. The public don’t tend to like them that much, but they get the job done…”

It was all white noise after that.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s just impossible. Unheard of.”

"You can’t be a hero.”

So it was true. Even All Might had said it. He couldn’t be a hero. Everyone was right. They were always right. Kacchan...his teachers…his bullies…they weren’t being mean, or hateful, or Quirkist.

They were just being right.

All Might transformed into his muscle form and hopped off the edge of the building, leaving Izuku alone. Honestly, he thought it was for the best. He didn’t want to deal with people right now.

He thought he would have been a mess. He thought he would have been rolling on the floor, screaming and kicking the air out of pure anger. To his surprise, he did nothing of the sort.

Instead, he tossed his bag to the ground, watching as it disappeared from his sight. He took off his shoes, neatly placing them on the ledge, before climbing over the fence. Izuku felt peaceful, almost. Maybe because of the emptiness he felt, or the cold realization that had descended upon him, or maybe because he knew that All Might was wrong, that Quirkless people would never be allowed to be police officers, or doctors, or anything else he had suggested. Because they were considered deformed. Abnormal. Useless. An accident. A small, evolutionary, genetic error, that should be treated as such. He knew, that so long as he had an extra toe joint in his body, he never would be accepted into society. Never. He gripped the iron bars, fiercely, sharply sucking air into his lungs. The last breath he would ever take.

One.

Izuku’s expression slowly relaxed.

Two.

His grip weakened, until his fingers were barely touching the bars.

I’m sorry Mom, he thought. For everything.

Thr-

“Kid,” A voice spoke from somewhere in front of him, firm and gentle at the same time. “I want you to open your eyes, and look at me.”

Chapter Text

"Hey, brat!" Mitsuki's voice rang out from across the hallway.

"What do you want, old hag?" Bakugou shouted back from his bedroom, equally loud. He'd barely been home for half an hour, and already this woman wanted something from him. Couldn't he just lie down in peace?

"You seen Izuku?"

Bakugou shook his head, which was pointless, since she couldn't see him from all the way down there. "No. Why do you care?"

His mom's been calling for the past 20 minutes. Says he should've been home ages ago. She's really worried so you'd best give me an answer or I'll knock your teeth in!"

Bakugou grumbled. Even when he wasn't anywhere near Bakugou, Izuku still found a way to ruin his life. "The last place I saw him was at school. He got after-school detention or some shit, so he was writing some stupid essay for an hour. Didn't see him after that."

There was a pause, and some muffled chatter on the phone, before Mitsuki spoke again. "She says that even with detention, he should've been home at least twenty minutes ago. Try again."

"That was the last time I saw him! You got a problem with that?"

A longer pause.

"She wants you to look for him."

"NO FUCKING WAY! WHAT AM I, HIS FUCKING NANNY?" Both Auntie Inko and the old hag must have lost it if they thought that Bakugou was going to waste his precious time looking for some loser nerd who was probably stalking a pro hero or something else weird like that.

"WELL TOO BAD! INKO WON'T BE HOME UNTIL 11 PM AND IZUKU CAN'T JUST BE WANDERING AROUND MUSUTAFU UNTIL THEN. SO BE A GOOD FRIEND AND GO GET HIM!"

"He's not my fucking friend," Bakugou muttered under his breath but went out regardless.

When he saw Deku, he was gonna kill him.

***

Shouta had been having a rough day.

For starters, his eyes were killing him, since there had been a lot of villains near his patrol area and he hadn't blinked in the last five minutes, which naturally resulted in his eyes feeling like the burning pits of Hell. Then, to make matters worse, some random police officer had accused him of vigilantism because he thought his obviously real hero license was fake, so he'd had to fill out what was possibly the biggest stack of paperwork he'd ever witnessed. And to top it all off, he was just about to head home (finally) when he saw a kid about to jump off a building.

Being a hero, he couldn't just let that happen. What kind of hero, or even person would he be if he let a kid who had their whole life ahead of them end it just because it "wasn't his problem?" 

There was just a...slight complication.

He had no idea what to say.

Daylight heroes like his husband and All Might were the talkers. They knew all the right things to say with all the right smiles and all the right gestures and would no doubt solve the issue in a matter of seconds, flashing them a winning smile after their job was done and leaving the kid happier than they'd ever be in their entire life. They were the kind of heroes who a 5-year-old would brag about seeing. "Oh, All Might? I told him I lost my teddy bear, so he looked for it and gave it to me. Not only that, but he signed it." Cue the infinite bragging rights and the sudden increase in popularity.

But Shouta? An underground hero, a socially awkward underground hero no less? He'd chosen to be a hero to save people, not to talk to them. Yet here he was, being forced to do just that. Talk.

Either that or have a letting a kid die on his conscience.

Shouta preferred the former.

So he mustered all the self-confidence and communication skills he had from his stupid media training and put it all into a single sentence, "Kid. I want you to open your eyes and look at me."

Yeah, that was the stupidest thing to say. I want, like he had any right to demand what he wanted when there was a kid literally on the brink of death. And how could he tell if the kid's eyes were closed or not if their hair was covering a good half of his face? He really had no idea how to talk to people

However, it must have worked to some extent, because the kid grabbed onto the iron bars and straightened themselves, some color returning to their face. He supposed that was a good sign, if falling was no longer on the kid's mind.

A pause. Shouta tried not to fidget with his hands as he looked at the kid. They couldn't be anything older than middle school, judging from the black gakuran they were wearing. Ugh, if only all middle school uniforms weren't the same. Then he'd be able to track this kid down easier.

What middle schooler wants to die that badly, Shouta thought. He really needed to find out who this kid's parents were. If they had any.

"Why should I care what you want?" Shouta winced. He knew the word 'want' wasn't exactly the best word to use, but what other word was there? He didn't have the entire dictionary in his brain, after all.

That wasn't the only thing that made him wince. It was the voice. The voice of a child, so devoid of hope and joy, so hoarse and heartbroken, a voice that shattered Shouta's heart.

He taught kids, just a year older than this kid was. Although their constant talking was annoying, when they did talk, they seemed so happy. The way their eyes lit up, their smiles, it was (although he'd never tell anyone this) beautiful. But this kid...

A kid shouldn't have a voice like that. 

"Please?"

Shouta almost laughed. Pathetic. He sounded like a child. Please?  Why would anyone listen to him after that pitiful display?

Another pause. Shouta wished he would just hurry up, then instantly regretted it. He had no right to want that. Whatever was on their mind, was obviously incredibly personal for this child. Wanting them to hurry up? How dare he.

"Okay. They're open."

"I can't see them, kid."

"Not my problem. Maybe you should see an optometrist for that. How many fingers am I holding up? Oh wait. Let me guess, you can't see them too?"

For the first time in what was now seven minutes, Shouta blinked. Was this literal middle schooler about to jump off a building giving him sass? Seriously? Well, at least they were relatively comfortable with him. This was a start.

"As a matter of fact, I can't. If my eyes were sentient, they probably would've killed themselves by now."

He could feel the mood darken. Shouta was confused. Had he said something. He'd just complained about how if his eyes were sentient they would've- oh.

The kid laughed, and Shouta's heart plummeted. For their laugh wasn't a painfully high-pitched loud laugh that normal teenagers had. It was a sardonic, cold laugh. Almost as empty as their voice.

"Well, that's one thing your eyes and I have in common."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-

HOW DID SHOUTA FORGET THAT HE WAS TALKING TO A SUICIDAL TEENAGER. WHY WAS HE TALKING ABOUT SUICIDE TO A SUICIDAL TEENAGER LITERALLY ABOUT TO COMMIT SUICIDE? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM-

"Actually I take that back. If my eyes were sentient, they'd probably get some eye drops to make them feel better. Why go to such drastic measures when you can always soothe the pain some other way?" Okay. Good. Nothing wrong there. Nothing that could possibly trigger the kid. All he needed to do was to keep that up.

He tried to judge the kid's expression based on the shitty vision he currently had. Although he couldn't see the top half of their face, he could most definitely see the bottom, and their mouth seemed to be twisting into an expression he couldn't quite place.

"What if the eye drops don't work? What if you try and try and try every single brand, everything that could possibly numb the pain, make you feel better, but...they just don't work? What if...ending it is the best way to not feel the pain anymore.

Oh.

They felt like there was no other option, no way to fix things. If Shouta could just convince them that they were wrong, that there was always something they could do about things...

"Well, that's unlikely, isn't it? That every single eye drop in the world won't work for you. Though it might be hard, or tedious, eventually, you'll find something. And if you don't find any, then make your own."

The kid seemed to consider this. As he watched them do so, Shouta couldn't help but smile. It was working.

After a while, they spoke up. "What if...what if people don't want you to make your own? What if they just don't acknowledge the pain's existence, or even make it worse, and...and what if they're so against any sort of remedy they told you to just kill yourself instead?"

Shouta froze. Who was "they?" Bullies, perhaps? Shouta had been bullied in middle school, but it had never gotten so bad to the point of people suicide-baiting him? What was so bad about this kid that people thought they deserved to die? Their physical capabilities? Their mental ones? Though it was possible, it seemed unlikely. It was probably something about their Quirk. But what was their Quirk? And what could be so bad about it tha-

Shouta clenched his fists. He couldn't get sidetracked. He had started something, so therefore he had to finish it. Not only for the kid, but for himself.

"Well, those people clearly don't understand the situation and you shouldn't listen to them."

"Neither do you."

If Shouta had a cup of coffee in his hand, he most certainly would've dropped it out of pure shock and realization. The kid was right. He knew nothing.

As if the kid could read his thoughts, they continued, "Exactly. You know nothing. You don't know anything about me aside from the fact that I want to die. You don't understand the situation I'm in, and you don't even try to understand, you just tell me that "It'll get better" or "It'll be okay," but do you seriously think that I would be here if I hadn't tried everything you suggested?"

They took a breath. "You're Eraserhead, aren't you? You're a hero." The way they said that word, with such contempt and malice, sent shivers down Shouta's spine. "That's why you're talking to me. People kill themselves every day, I'm not special. The only reason you pretend to care is because otherwise, you'll always remember that one middle schooler you, albeit indirectly, killed. After all, you didn't do anything about it, and what kind of hero would you be then?"

Shouta tried to ignore the fact that they'd said exactly what he had been thinking. Still, he retaliated. "It's a hero's job to sa-"

"Oh, please. Can you at least not feed me complete bullshit in my last moments? You're tired. You've had a long day. You probably had a million other things more important to do. You just couldn't wait to get home, and then...I showed up. Well, you don't need to worry about that anymore. I'll get out of your hair now. Sorry for wasting your time."

And they let go.

***

Stupid stupid stupid Deku how dare he make me waste my fucking time I swear to God when I find him I will fuck him up-

Bakugou had been looking for the bastard for over an hour. It was dark, it was raining, and Bakugou was just so fucking done.

"She wants you to look for him- can't look for her own child herself?" Bakugou thought, scuffing his shoes as he kicked them on the pavement.

Bakugou was about to turn back home and lie down in bed when his foot bumped into something. A yellow backpack. It looked like Deku's. Way too much like Deku's.

Katsuki unzipped the bag before dumping out all its contents. A calculator, a pencil, and a few textbooks, amongst other things. Basically everything a Japanese student would need. Katsuki was tempted to blow up the bag. It would tell the owner not to just throw their stuff on the side of the road. But as Katsuki was about to blow it up, in the light of his explosion charging up, he saw something that made him do a double take.

An All Might keychain.

This was Deku's.

It had to be. Deku had made it himself. He was going to give it to Katsuki as a birthday gift, but Katsuki had thrown the ugly thing at his head, meaning that he must have kept it. Katsuki didn't know why someone would willingly keep an atrocious monstrosity such as that with them, but it didn't matter.

What mattered was that even if he hadn't found Deku, at least he'd found his bag.

Wait a minute.

Deku must've been somewhere near here recently. And if he was already here, he might as well just fetch the damn nerd and get it over with. After all, the pipsqueak deserved a good beatdown for making Katsuki walk for so long.

He searched the whole goddamn area. Alleyways, shops, all of them. He wasn't anywhere to be found. Which (although Katsuki would never admit it) slightly worried him. After all, if some psycho had taken him hostage, they might try to kidnap him to. That would be a stupid decision, since Katsuki was obviously the strongest, and any extra that tried to abduct him, was gonna end up with a lot worse than a few burns. 

And anyway, if something had indeed taken Deku, it wasn't like he would give a fuck. It was Deku's fault for being so weak and useless.

The lights on a building flickered. Katsuki glanced at it, before rolling his eyes. That stupid building needed to get knocked down and rebuilt before it fell on someone's head.

Walking home, he passed the building. However, since he was closer to the building, he noticed a lot more things. The dented metal from last week's villain attack. The weird scratches on the doors.

The suspiciously Midoriya Izuku-shaped silhouette standing on the ledge. 

Huh?

He walked back, eyes focused on the ledge. He didn't want to believe it, but the light of his miniature explosions combined with the neon lights of the building sign eliminated all other possibilities.

That was Deku.

Katsuki's throat suddenly dried as he remembered what he had said to Deku after his detention.

“Hey Deku, here’s some advice. If you want to be a hero so bad, why don’t you take a swan dive off the roof and pray you’ll be born with a Quirk in your next life.”

Was Deku seriously gonna...no. He was joking. He had to be. He expected Auntie Mitsuki and his mother to appear from the darkness with confetti, streamers and a sign saying, "YOU JUST GOT PRANKED!!!!!!"

But realization flooded him, hitting him like a giant wave. Deku was gonna jump. 

Katsuki almost wanted to scream that he didn't mean it, or that he should stop being such a weakling and get back down this instant because his mother had been so worried and he wasn't gonna walk back home with a dead Deku in his arms.

But he didn't.

Because then he'd be showing emotion. Weakness. Katsuki wasn't weak like Deku. He was strong. The strongest. Stronger than anyone. So instead, he put those emotions in his thoughts.

Don't let go. Don't let go. Don't let-

He let go.

Shit.

Katsuki could only watch in horror as he fell, almost in slow motion. He braced himself for the inevitable impact, when-

Someone fell with him. Or rather, jumped. The man used his scarf (was he a vigilante or something?) on the trunks of the two trees situated near the corners of the building to slow his fall, before catching Deku in one fold of his scarf and hanging on a tree branch in the other.

Katsuki collapsed. Thank God, he thought. Thank fucking God.

Slowly, he managed to get up, although he was slightly shaking. He exhaled, and turned around.

He froze. Again. He really was freezing up a lot these days.

A mass of slime was forming around him, flowing like a strange liquid. To Katsuki's horror, the thing had eyes. 

"Yes..." The monster sneered, voice dripping with disdain. "This will do just fine."

Then the world went black.

Chapter Text

Shouta's body moved long before his brain could catch up. The second the kid disappeared from his line of sight, he hopped over the railing and jumped. While the prospect of them committing suicide terrified him, what really scared him was their smile.

It was small. But still, a smile. The way their face lifted up, the way the corners of their lips flicked upwards. They were happy.

The first time the kid had expressed happiness they were hurtling down a 100ft building.

Shouta didn't know how to feel about that.

But he did know that he felt anger. Anger at the mysterious 'they', a swirling shadow in the distance, something so evil, so utterly pathetic that they'd told someone to take their own life.

When Shouta caught the kid, he would take them to the nearest police station and ask for some identification. Not if. When.

Shouta couldn't bring himself to think about the if.

Maybe it was because of him. Maybe he had said something, done something, been something that they just didn't need. Maybe he was the last straw. He'd hate himself forever if that was the reason.

Well done Eraserhead. Proving to everyone you're not a villain and killing a kid. Way. To. Go.

But he couldn't think about that right now. There were people to save. He had signed up for that the moment he entered Class 2-A. He had pledged to save everyone. 

Even if he was saving them from themselves.

Using his capture scarf, he grabbed on to anything he could, which were the two trees on the corners of the building. This somewhat slowed his fall, which allowed him to confidently aim his capture scarf towards the kid, wrapping them tightly. At the last minute, he grabbed onto a nearby tree, branch creaking at the force of their combined weight. After checking their pulse as best as he could with one hand, and quickly deducting that they were indeed alive, although they weren't moving an inch, he released his grip and, quite sloppily, thanks to the additional weight, landed. Shouta looked at the kid, waiting for them to say something. Anything.

Waiting for them to stop acting like the corpse they wished they were.

"Kid, are you-"

"Let me go Eraserhead." The kid was on the verge of tears at this point, and Shouta couldn't help but wonder.

Did they really want to die that badly?

"I can't. Why would I? We need to get you to the police station for some proper identification and prote-"

"Let. Me. Go."

Shouta let go. The kid shivered, wrapping their arms around themselves, although Shouta doubted it was because of the cold. He still watched their every movement, eyes narrowed in concentration. Although he couldn't see as clear as he would like to, it was clear enough, and this kid probably knew that if they tried to run from an underground hero, they would not get very far.

For the time being, they were stuck.

"Of course someone like me wouldn't even be able to die right." The kid's voice broke the silence.

Shouta wanted to say something, but didn't trust himself to speak. After all, if he'd said (or not said) something, maybe he wouldn't have had to save them. He hoped that they could understand the pained look he was giving them.

"Now that I think about it, killing myself would be stupid. I mean, it's not like anyone would care, and the only thing it would do would annoy people. I'm really good at that, you know? Being annoying. My one talent. Well I'm also really useless. Not to mention pathetic. And stupid. That's four! I'm really good at stuff, aren't I?"

He let out a dry chuckle, and Shouta knew that they weren't just being dramatic. They meant it. They thought they were all these things.

More pained looks. More deliberate ignoring. More Shouta wanting to just drag this kid with him to the police station and just get over with it. More Shouta immediately regretting what he'd thought because who was he to tell someone suicidal to just get over with it. 

"Oh, you wanted some identification, right?" Shouta could sense the hint of a smile in their voice and was about to both agree and celebrate when the mood suddenly dropped.

"I'm a shitty person. I can't do anything right, everything I touch I curse with the 'Deku Disease', my very existence is a stain on this world, and only one person on this Earth actually cares about me, amd living for one person is...that's stupid, right? Even stupider than killing myself."

That was not identification.

"So, you see my problem here, don't you? And taking me to the police station wouldn't exactly...help things. But I'm glad I'm not a good person. At least I don't have to feel too bad about doing this."

Now Shouta couldn't stay silent. "Doing what?"

In hindsight, it was a sloppy hit. On a good day, Shouta would've dodged. On an even better day, Shouta would have put that utter delinquent in a headlock. But this was neither. 

This was an exceptionally shitty day.

So, thanks to that, Shouta found himself getting punched on the nose by a middle schooler. How pathetic.

Naturally, he blinked. Which was a big mistake. Not used to the feeling, his eyes screamed with pain, so he blinked. Cue the eyes screaming with pain.

Fumbling for the eyedrops in his utility belt with as much accuracy as a pissed off underground hero could manage, after 30 seconds, he realised.

There was nothing there.

Impossible, Shouta thought. He vividly remembered putting the green container in his belt before going on patrol. He'd had it before seeing the kid and had definitely had it when he'd jumped off that building...unless...

Did that kid seriously steal his eyedrops? What a bastard. That kid...was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.

By the time he ran down the street and turned the corner, the kid was gone. Prick.

Shouta considered chasing after them. But he wasn't about to expend more energy over eyedrops, and (despite their worrying reason) they weren't planning on killing themselves. He'd done his bit. Now he'd just have to sit tight and hope for the best.

Ignoring the last area of his patrol, he headed home.

***

Drowning.

That was the best way that Katsuki could explain the feeling. Like he was drowning. The villain was the ocean, and he was a small stone, sinking towards its demise. Except it was a lot worse.

Because people were watching. Heroes were watching. And they were doing nothing.

Nothing.

Why was nobody doing anything?

It wasn't that he needed their help, definitely not. Katsuki was the strongest, the best, the brightest, the star of Aldera. He didn't need their help. He didn't need anyone's help. He was amazing, and anyone trying to help him obviously thought he was weak, thought they were stronger than him, and was therefore insulting him. Yeah, that was it. He didn't need anyone's help. If any of these extras had gotten caught instead, how long would they have lasted? That's right. He was the fucking best.

He could appreciate that later, but first he needed to get his explosions back. And to do that, he needed to get his hands out. 

Unlike regular humans, slime was pretty hard to punch, and it'd been getting a lot harder to breathe. But the slime villain had been getting slightly weaker too, and its grip has lessened significantly, not that it helped, since he still couldn't climb out-

He couldn't climb out, but he could turn. The villain's weak point was probably its eyes, so if- when, since this plan would definitely work because he was amazing- he got his hands inside its eyes, then...

Boom. Once again proving his superiority against all these extras. All he needed was one explosion.

So he pulled. And pulled. Even though the searing pain in his hands and wrists was getting harder to ignore, and he felt like he was slowly fading away, the intense allure of sleep tempting him, he still persevered. It was definitely weakened (no doubt from all the other innocents it had probably terrorized) but it was still strong, too strong, and there was a terrible moment when Katsuki realised he was going to die and no one was going to help him and he was alone, alone, and he needed to get out get out get out get out get out-

All thoughts of planning went out the window as he stretched his hands as high as they would go. There was an unfamiliar feeling that came as he ignited the explosive substance, before it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Nitroglycerin had to be constantly purified, otherwise it was way too dangerous and volatile, and it would hurt himself and others in the process of creating an explosion. The nitroglycerin he had used had been on his hands for a while, where it had had plenty of time to accumulate dirt and grime. And since he was fighting a monster made out of the shit from sewers...his nitroglycerin had gone from a clear, colourless liquid to a murky brown.

Fuck.

The crowd could only watch as the monster's head (or at least, what was assumed to be) flew into the sky, along with a bright orange beam rupturing the clouds. The villain's eyes, along with a small collection of slime, fell next to Bakugou's feet, and with that, the rest of the body lost its form, turning into a liquid. A few heroes (Katsuki would've flipped them off if he'd had the energy) began to hurriedly collect the slime, but Katsuki paid them no attention.

He was too busy focusing on his burning hands.

Now, Katsuki had never felt the pain of burning before, since he had built-in heat resistance. But that was with regular hot stuff. This...whatever concoction he had cooked up out of the desire to escape, was not normal.

It was safe to say it hurt like hell.

Katsuki, too weak to scream, too weak to even show any signs of pain, was left with only one option.

Passing out.

***

Izuku ran. And ran. And ran.

He didn't know why he was still running. It wasn't like Eraserhead cared enough about Izuku to chase him. It wasn't like the sludge villain was going to break out of the soda bottle and find him. It wasn't like Kacchan and his lackeys would find him, still alive, and then beat him up for not listening to what they said- okay, maybe that would happen. But even if it did, running wasn't any use. They had Quirks, and Izuku didn't. They would definitely outrun and capture him in seconds, Kacchan especially.

He could see his reflection in the puddles as he jumped over them. His hair (which must have been blown out of his face thanks to the several times he had fallen over) was limp, thanks to the water, and his eyes were bloodshot red with tears.

Stupid stupid stupid why would anybody care if I died and I got Eraserhead involved oh my God what is wrong with me-

Izuku continued in this manner, berating himself for acting so stupidly in front of a pro hero, being a drama queen and thinking that Eraserhead actually cared about some random middle schooler, until he got home, or at least, to the door of his house. He didn't make it inside before he collapsed, out of exhaustion, sure, but most likely defeat.

Everything had gone wrong today. From his mum having two shifts, to the girl who had stolen his backpack, to the teacher who had given him after school detention which led to Kacchan telling him to take a swan dive which meant that his notebook was destroyed which meant that he tried to drown himself which meant he actually drowned inside the Sludge Villain which meant that All Might shoved his dreams into a meat grinder which meant that Eraserhead had fed him the same "It'll get better" bullshit that everyone and their mother on the Internet had said which meant that he was here, sobbing and gasping for air on the wet floor and he wished that he hadn't hesitated about that swan dive because there was nothing more he wanted than to disappear. Nothing but a small, inconsequential speck of dust in a universe far greater than he would every be.

He supposed it would be nice. Peaceful, almost. Not worrying about the troubles of regular, human life. Just a floating speck of dust.

...Izuku needed some sleep.

He curled up on the stone, since (of course) he had lost his keys. After much tossing and turning, he'd finally drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, blissfully unaware of his mother standing over him.

Chapter Text

By the time Shouta had gotten home, the sharp, stabbing pain that came with blinking was reduced to a dull ache. As he flung the door open, not bothering to pick up the books that had fallen as a result, Hizashi appeared in front of him, holding a "World's Best Dad" mug. Shouta had no idea why Hizashi would get that, seeing as he wasn't (and would never be) a dad, but that didn't matter right now.

"SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hizashi covered his mouth, looking quite embarrassed, and Shouta wondered how many noise complaints they would get this week. Even though extensive training had caused Hizashi to have an excellent amount of control over his Quirk, he still slipped up whenever he was excited or nervous.

"Sorry," he whispered, slowly turning pink, "I was just really worried because I saw the news and I remembered you were patrolling near that area so-"

"What area?" Although there had been a lot of villains, none of them were a big enough deal to end up on the news. Unless...

"Weren't you supposed to patrol near the place we get ramen?"

The ramen shop. The ramen shop that Shouta had ignored due to the pain in his eyes. The ramen shop, where something so big had happened that it had ended up on the news.

That ramen shop. 

"Yeah, but I came back here because of my eyes. What happened?" If anyone had gotten hurt because he wasn't there, then...

Hizashi paused, as if he was trying to formulate a response in his head. After a while, he gave up and beckoned Shouta to the couch.

"Honestly, I think you should see this for yourself."

He turned the TV on and flipped through several channels until he finally got to Musutafu News. The sludge villain that All Might had apprehended sometime around noon had escaped, and was now attacking a middle schooler (was their uniform the same as...that kid's, or was Shouta just being paranoid?) with spiky blond hair. For someone of their age, they were fighting back with impressive power, and Shouta noticed the strength of their Quirk. Were they aiming for U.A? Probably. Anyone with that Quirk was going to a hero school for sure.

There was just one problem. At first, Shouta didn't notice, since all the cameras were focused on the victim, but he soon saw the silhouettes of many heroes in the crowd. Death Arms, Kamui Woods, all standing there and watching as the victim was being suffocated to death. 

Shouta felt sick to his stomach. He could have done something. Maybe he couldn't have erased the villain's Quirk, but he could at least have tugged the person out of there with his capture scarf.

Or would he have stood there? Too paralyzed by fear to move, too busy thinking about all the reasons he couldn't do anything, thinking about how someone would save them, that he didn't need to do anything except wait.

Their eyes widened, and Shouta realised that the kid knew no one was going to save them. They thrashed about even more, shoving their hands up the sludge villain's head with a sickening squelch, and then-

Orange.  A beam of desperation and power, ripping through the clouds and the head of a villain, soaring through the sky, briefly levitating, before falling back to the floor, where it sizzled with the heat of the surrounding area.

For a moment, there was a pause. No one dared say anything, and the kid's hands were covered in slime and flames. Then the heroes (equipped with a sudden surge of chivalry and justice) began to collect the slime in bottles (where had they even come from?) and smother the flames on the kid's hands with a fire blanket. The news reporters said one of their shitty cliche lines (Shouta hated the media) and the broadcast ended.

Shouta contemplated what to say, before settling for a simple "Wow."

Hizashi solemnly nodded. "Wow indeed. And the media's trying to find out who the kid is. I'm pretty curious too, if we're being honest. I mean, that was some All Might-level stuff back there!"

Shouta pursed his lips. "Maybe that's a slight exaggeration. But I agree. They're really strong. At least we'll find out who they are soon enough. It's a small city, and news reporters are nosy pricks."

"Mhm. Anyway, I'm going to bed. Night Shouta." Hizashi kissed Shouta's forehead.

"Night 'Zashi."

Shouta should've done the same. Gone to sleep and forget about everything. But this kid...something about them intrigued him. He wasn't sure what, but there was something. 

It was with this reasoning that Shouta spent a good portion of the night watching the news (something he would never admit to doing ever). He went through all the different news channels, but there was nothing about their identity. He was about to call it quits and join Hizashi when he heard it. 

"Good evening all, this is Musutafu News, I'm your host Saotome Itsuka, and after much searching, we have finally found more information regarding the victim of the Sludge Villain Attack several hours ago."

More recapping the incident. More struggling. More explosions. More fire. And finally.

"The name of this person has been revealed to be Bakugou Katsuki. Currently schooling at Aldera Middle School, they..."

Bakugou Katsuki. He'd seen that name before. They were one of the earliest people to send their U.A application form, a full year before the entrance exam. 

Interesting. Perhaps he'd be in Shouta's class. Or maybe Vlad's. But he was definitely getting into the hero course.

He turned the TV off and joined his husband in bed. Trying to ignore the loud snoring next to him, he too went to sleep.

***

When Izuku woke up (or at least regained consciousness, he didn't feel like he'd woken up quite yet) the first thing he heard was someone hyperventilating in the background. It was faint, as if they were trying to not wake him up, but it wasn't working. If he squinted, he could see the outline of a person running around their desk, desperately calling people on their phone. The words, "Please, can we just visit him?", "But we ARE family! His mother and I are friends and I know she'd want us to be there." and, "No, don't hang up, don't-" were quite frequent, and Izuku wondered what was so bad that this person was about to burst into tears.

As his eyes adjusted to the light around him, he realised that the person was his mother.

"M-Mom?" He said groggily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "W-what's going on?" She must have seen Izuku lying on the porch and picked him up. Why didn't he just save everyone's time and go in through the window?

"Oh, you're awake," Izuku noted how his mom hadn't asked him why he was on the porch. On previous occasions, she had tried, but when she realised that she was getting nowhere, she simply kept her mouth shut. She didn't say anything when Izuku "lost" his bag. She didn't say anything when he came back with several Band-Aids on. She just fixed it and pretended nothing had happened. It was one of the things he appreciated about her, but he knew how much it hurt for her not to say anything. If only he had a Quirk, then his mother wouldn't have to suffer so much.

"Who are you calling?"

"The hospital."

If Izuku was drinking, he would have definitely done a spit take. Hospital? What happened? Who was in the hospital? Why were they there?

Izuku asked all of these questions, and his mom looked down at the ground.

"It's Katsuki."

Kacchan.

There was something hilarious about this situation. Kacchan had told him to kill himself, and then Kacchan had nearly died. The world definitely worked in mysterious ways.

Izuku knew he should feel bad. Kacchan must have been terrified at the thought of death and the trauma that would come with such an event would be long-lasting. But still, a thought kept on buzzing in his head.

Serves you right asshole.

Maybe Izuku really was a bad person.

However, he couldn't let his mother know that, so he put on his best "oh my God is he okay" face and nearly filled the living room with tears. His mom explained it all, how the Sludge Villain had escaped after All Might had arrested it (Izuku tried not to look too guilty when she mentioned that) and how it had attacked Katsuki. Her voice rose when she mentioned how none of the heroes tried to rescue him, and Izuku had to put a hand on her shoulder to calm her, while also displaying a sufficient amount of anger to appease his mom. Eventually, she got to the end, where one of his explosions had changed the fucking weather and his hands were temporarily on fire. 

It wasn't fair. 

Izuku needed someone to save him. If All Might had been a second late he would have died, but Kacchan didn't need anyone. He could defeat a villain, without any experience or formal training, on his own. Whilst being suffocated. And trapped.

All because of stupid fucking genetics.

"So now, they won't let me visit him because it's "family only", can you believe that? It's not even like he's contagious or something!"

"I guess it's because they don't want the patient feeling too overwhelmed." He said absentmindedly, toying with his hair as he internally raged at Kacchan's overpowered Quirk.

"I...I guess..." She trailed off, before breaking into sobs. "I just- I just really want to see him, you know? He must be so, so scared right now."

The Kacchan he knew would never admit to being scared. Nevertheless, he resumed his loud crying, mumbling "I know...I know" through broken sobs.

"Well, get your shoes off the couch, I don't want to have to clean it again."

"...I don't have my shoes."

She paused, and as her face fell, Izuku felt even worse. Why couldn't he just make people happy for once?

"Oh. I meant socks. Although I suppose you'll need new shoes, right?"

"And a new backpack."

"And a new backpack. Should I fix the uniform?"

"Yes please."

"Okay. You can use my old trainers for now. You know where they are, right?"

"Yes. Thanks."

As his mom left the room, for a moment, he thought about telling her why he had no shoes, or no backpack, or why he came home so late, but what good would that do? It would just make his mom worry, and besides, he'd already developed a solid routine that had worked perfectly for the past decade. Wake up. Get ready. Look at kitchen knives with an unwavering intensity. Go to school. Get bullied. Go home. Pretend it never happened. Go to sleep. Nightmares. 

Rinse and repeat.

***

Katsuki remembers pain.

The feeling of flesh being torn from his body, a ringing in his ears, trying to move, to speak, to do anything. It's like he's unattached from the world, in his own personal hell, flames licking his hands in graceful yet painful movements. It is only for a few seconds, and then it is over, and he collapses, passing out on the hard floor. He remembers flickering silhouettes of people carrying him, the ambulance, the oxygen mask they gave him, the light they shone in his eyes. The memories stop after that.

But new ones continue, in a hospital bed, with his father on the ground sobbing. Katsuki considers feeling bad for him, but dismisses that thought as soon as it comes.

No one deserves pity.

"Please, there must be something you can do, anything!

"Mr. Bakugou, the nitroglycerin mutation that resulted from the slime is highly dangerous. None of our healing Quirks can fix it, and even when sleeping, his hands still create explosions. In fact, you should be grateful that it wasn't his entire body!"

"At least tell us what will happen to him next!"

The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, before looking up at Bakugou's dad.

"Considering the damage done to his hands, amputation is a very likely scenario."

The world came to a halt. Katsuki's heart banged against his ribcage as the fatal words rang in his ears.

Amputation.

He barely manages to restrain himself. After all, if he revealed himself now, he wouldn't get any more useful information. He just needs to keep quiet.

Amputation.

The nurse rolled her eyes and sat down, obviously bored to death. As if a teenager getting parts of their body ripped off was nothing important. 

His father choked. "Ampu- amputation? He won't be able to use his Quirk anymore! You don't...he was supposed to go to U.A! If he loses his hands, what is he supposed to do now?"

"Our main priority is the swift recovery of the patient. Currently, amputation is the only way to fix this. The results that come from the amputation will be dealt with after the process takes place-"

"Bullshit!" Katsuki flinched as the hag stood up, chair legs, scraping on the ceramic tiles. Did she really have to do that so fucking loudly? "He's been in this hospital for hours, and you're telling me that the only thing you can do is ampu-fucking-tation? I'm not fucking paying you if I don't get the results I want, for fuck's sake!" She sat down again, arms crossed as if she were a child. His father tried to touch her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"Don't fucking touch me unless you want to join him."

After that, there was an uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the explosions on his hands and the nurse mumbling under her breath, no doubt calculating how much she would get paid after this. Everyone was the same. You think you can trust them. And then, when you need them most...

Boom. Heroes watching as you slowly suffocate to death.

Boom. Doctors not even trying to think of another solution other than amputation.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Katsuki remembered what he had promised himself, as the world had slowly faded into nothingness, and the "floaty" feeling he had was becoming more prominent.

If there is anyone who needs saving, I will save them. No matter how bad the circumstances are, no matter how hard it is, I will save them. I won't desert them...

Katsuki left out the last bit, an unspoken phrase, although, in his heart, he knew what it was. The point was, he couldn't be a hero if he didn't have- forget not having a Quirk, if he didn't have hands. Which meant that before the doctors decided to be stupid fucks and cut them off, he needed a plan.

Doctors these days (being fucking idiots, like everyone else) didn't care about science, or anything used in the pre-Quirk era. All that really mattered was how powerful their healing Quirks were. Meaning that they focused less on the actual profession, and more on healing tons of different shit with varying levels of severity until they graduated. After all, being able to bring someone back from the dead was far more useful than knowing how to stabilize-

Katsuki's eyes widened. If he could stabilize the nitroglycerin, then his hands would stop constantly exploding, which would leave just his broken hands. A healing Quirk could easily fix that. The only problem was that the mutation might make things a little different. In that case, his plan would be useless.

But was it even a mutation? Yes, whatever happened back then was obviously not normal. But did that mean that the chemical had transformed completely?

Eventually, the nurse spoke up. 

"I've consulted all the doctors in the vicinity, and they're all either busy or unqualified. There's nothing else we can do. I'll call the surgeon in."

"Wait."

Everyone looked at Katsuki, who had tried to sit up to look less pathetic but ultimately failed. "I know how I can fix my hands without getting them cut off."

Katsuki resisted a smirk as they all fell silent. With the tension created, no one dared speak, apart from the nurse.

"Dearie," she said, in her sickly sweet condescending voice, which roughly translated to if you say one more fucking word I will rip your insides out and put them on the wall you scum, "I'm a medical professional. I've been studying medicine for 12 years and counting. I think I know what I'm doing."

"I don't give a shit about how long you've studied medicine, the most important thing is that if someone doesn't do anything, my hands are gonna get chopped off, and funny enough, I don't fucking want that. So, since no one else in this room has some fucking brain cells, and it's my hands that are getting removed by some asshole with a saw, my ideas are probably the most valuable. Any objections?"

"Katsuki, apologize to-"

"Shut the fuck up!" His father winced. "You guys got baking soda or not?"

"Why do you need baking soda?" The nurse asked, smiling with her unnaturally white teeth. It made Katsuki want to throw up, but he fought the urge and continued. 

"In the process of making nitroglycerin, it's unstable. Like it did with that shitty monster. To stabilize nitroglycerin, you use baking soda, which reduces the acid. If you coat my hands in baking soda or some shit, the nitroglycerin stops being so weird."

"You think I didn't think of that? This isn't regular nitroglycerin. It's reacted with the slime from the Sludge Villain to create something completely different. Regular methods won't work here." The nurse turned towards Katsuki with a smug expression on her face.

"How are you so sure it's mutated?"

The nurse blinked, obviously not expecting that question. "Your mother told me that explosions like that were-"

"Not normal. Doesn't mean my Quirk changed just because of that."

"Your hands are involuntarily creating explosions as we speak, and you mean to tell me that your Quirk hasn't changed?"

Katsuki drew in a large breath to calm himself, to no avail. 

"Quirks can activate uncontrollably if someone has gone through immense stress. It's called IQA, short for Involuntary Quirk Activation. Did your 12 years of studying medicine not teach you that?"

The nurse glared, as if she wanted nothing more than to throw him out the window. Katsuki glared back. The feeling was mutual.

But seriously, what was wrong with this woman? Did she want Katsuki to have no hands? Or did she get some sick pleasure in ordering people to chop people's hands off? Psycho.

"We have baking soda. I'll go get it. "

He looked at his parents, who were staring at him with wide eyes. The hag would never admit it, but Katsuki could see the shine of tears pooling in her eyes. His father grinned and gesticulated wildly, before crushing Katsuki in the most painful hug in history.

"Let- go of- me- you- idiot!" Katsuki managed to choke, before writhing out of his father's gasp. His father looked sheepish and immediately withdrew, although the smile on his face still remained.

The...His mother calmly walked over to Katsuki with a soft smile. There was something new in her face, refreshing, yet odd. Like she had ascended onto a higher plane or some shit.

Her hand gracefully rose into the air, and...

Hit him on the head. Never mind.

"If you ever try anything like that again, I will kill you myself." She seethed, hitting him with every syllable. Katsuki retaliated with several curse words and a growl, and his dad kept trying to split the two up in vain.

He hoped- no, he knew it would work, of course, it would. And when it did, he would be able to continue with heroism. He'd be able to save people. And not desert anyone...

Like the heroes deserted him.

***

Izuku clenched the pen in his fist so tightly it had nearly burst open. He had been in this position for half an hour, trying to write a "Congratulations on not getting your hands chopped off!" card for Kacchan. The last time Izuku had written Kacchan a card was 7 years ago, where he'd thanked Kacchan for buying him an All Might plushie, although it had taken much persuasion. To show his appreciation, Kacchan had blown it to pieces and scattered them in his shoe locker. Izuku stopped giving him cards after that.

He still remembered it. It was All Might-themed, with a yellow base with blue and red writing. He'd spent so much time on the mini All Might's scattered on the page. All Might smiling, All Might giving a thumbs-up, All Might saving someone.

Kacchan would get no such luxuries this time.

But if not that, what else would he give him? Izuku considered Googling it.

What card do you give to your childhood "best friend" who told you to kill yourself and you're also really jealous of them because of their Quirk and you will never be able to stand alongside them but they just narrowly escaped amputation so you can't mention that?

...Yeah, that wouldn't work.

A card was all about putting your feelings inside, right? At least, that's what his mom had told him. So, it was simple. Just tell him how he was feeling. Leaving out...other stuff, of course.

He placed his pen on his desk, spinning around in his chair. As he did so, he noticed the absence of All Might merch on his walls. He didn't know what inspired him to take it all down. Maybe seeing the face that had crushed his dreams whenever he tried to sleep wouldn't exactly help him recover.

What was he feeling, anyway?

Sadness, because All Might, the number one hero, had told him he had no potential whatsoever. Fear, when he went to school the next day and Kacchan and his lackeys saw he was very much alive. And anger, at the world, for making him this way, for ruining his life, when the chances were so slim, and he had a higher chance of having a time travel Quirk or something else super dangerous than what he had now. At his mother, for giving birth to such a stupid thing, at Kacchan, for literally existing, at All Might, for letting him down when he needed it most, at himself, for being so weak and giving up so easily and not even fighting back because he was weak Deku and nothing more, and he accepted that.

Weak Deku.

Stupid Deku.

Pathetic.

He throws the sheet of paper in the waste basket, already filled with 23 similar items. He tears another one from his notebook, and stares at it, waiting for some miraculous revelation to take hold. He goes back into time, rewinding, rewinding, rewinding, until he arrives at the scene he was looking for.

"Well, that's unlikely, isn't it? That every single eye drop in the world won't work for you. Though it might be hard, or tedious, eventually, you'll find something. And if you don't find any, then make your own."

Make your own. He whispers the words, they seem foreign on his tongue.

Make your own. Izuku places himself in that moment again, when Eraserhead said those words, even though there was no way he would ever mean them, even when it was all a lie, he remembers what he felt all too well.

Hope.

Izuku grabs his pen and writes, a scratching sound being heard with every stroke. 

Maybe he won't be the greatest hero ever, as he hoped. But he will become a hero. He must become a hero. So long as that hope exists, so long as those words ring in his ears, he must act on them. Whether Kacchan likes it or not.

Kacchan,

Firstly, sorry about the whole Sludge Villain thing. My mom told me that the only reason you were out was because you were looking for me, but I was out doing other stuff. So, sorry.

It's getting pretty late, so I'm just gonna keep this short. I'm glad that you remembered how to stabilize nitroglycerin and that you still have your hands. It'd be pretty hard to be a hero without those.

If you still have your hands, that means when we go to U.A, I can finally beat you up. Properly. Yes. You read that right, I said we. I'm going to U.A too. And I'm aiming for the hero course.

Yes, I know that being a Quirkless hero is practically unheard of. Yes, I know that a million people are stronger than me and I wouldn't even cut it out as a rent-a-cop Deku and I'd probably die the second I stepped onto the battlefield. But I had...an epiphany of sorts. Which means that I can't fail. I'm going to give this all I've got, and I'm going to crush you someday :)

From your childhood best friend turned rival,

Izuku

(P.S: I'm so gonna regret this when I wake up.)

(P.P.S: What's the point? It's not like you're gonna read this anyway.)

He stared at the letter, before folding it and putting it in his drawer. He still couldn't believe what he had just written. It was as if some ethereal being was moving his hand as he wrote.

Don't stare at it for too long, his inner voice told him. You'll do something stupid.

That didn't stop Izuku from staring at it all night long.