Chapter Text
People like to say that everyone is equal. That you should treat others as you want to be treated, and if you follow that principal peace will come to alp.
This vision of a perfect society is wholly unachievable even with Heroes as a shining beacon of strength and goodness.
And Izuku had known that from an age entirely too young.
He was only four years old when his world was shattered for the first time.
All his friends and classmates had been showing signs of their quirks, but he had still had nothing to show for all his trying. How he had wished for a quirk like his mother’s telekinesis. He tried for hours to pull his pencils and crayons towards himself.
His attempts at breathing fire had only resulted in himself near passing out.
The third time his mother had walked in on that, she had finally decided to take him to the doctor to check for his quirk.
It’d never happen. He’d never get a quirk. All because of a tiny joint in his pinky toes.
In a world surrounded by the supernatural, the natural state seemed entirely too natural for most.
And that’s exactly what Izuku was. Quirkless. Under-evolved.
The teachers at school began making him sit inside during recess. While his friends played out in the playground, he was stuck inside with the coloring books and blocks.
He didn’t understand what had changed. Sure, he was quirkless, but a little fall or scrape wouldn’t kill him. Still, the isolation from his classmates served to drive a wedge between them, splitting them apart like firewood ready to light.
“Kacchan! Wait up!” Izuku called darting across the playground to catch up to his friend. He stumbled over a rock but regained his footing before he fell. Up ahead, Kacchan kept walking towards the edge of the forest. “Kacchan!” Izuku repeated, running to finally catch up with him.
“Go away Deku.” Bakugo scowled over his shoulder at him.
Izuku stopped, tilting his head in confusion. “I thought- Kacchan, aren’t we going to play heroes?”
“You can’t play heroes.” Bakugo growled turning back around to stalk away. “You don’t have a quirk.”
“But-” Izuku scurried to catch up to him, but the next thing he knew, he was falling to the ground in a heap as Kacchan shoved him onto the woodchip covered ground. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Kacchan.
“Go away! You’re useless, we don’t need dead weight in our agency.” And with that, Bakugo spun on his heel, leaving him on the ground to pull the splinters out of his palms.
Eventually, exclusion from games wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about. Over the years the exclusion turned into insults and insults turned into physical attacks.
Bruised and battered, he’d return home with his belongings destroyed and clothes singed with the explosions of his old friend’s quirk.
But Izuku didn’t truly know how cruel the world could be until he was twelve years old and in his first year at Aldera Middle school.
Izuku stumbled into the apartment, dropping his bag on the couch as he limped towards the bathroom. His shoulder ached with a burning pain from an explosion Kacchan had let off.
Kacchan had been especially angry today. Luckily though, his mother was a nurse and understood the importance of keeping medical supplies at home. He only had to replace what he used every now and again, but that was easy enough.
He hissed as he spread burn cream on the injury and wrapped it up, finishing right on time as he heard the front door swing open and his mother calling out, “I’m home.”
Exiting the bathroom and entering the living room, Izuku greeted his mother with a hug. “Hey mom, how was work?” he asked as she finally released him from the tight squeeze.
“Fine, just long.” Inko replied, placing her handbag on the kitchen counter and opening some of the cabinets. “I don’t know why, but I’ve been so hungry. I ate lunch. How do you feel about an early dinner?” She asked looking over her shoulder.
“Sounds good to me.” Izuku nodded in agreement as Inko pulled the rice cooker out of the cabinet. He turned to the pantry to pull out the bucket of rice and was met with an entirely too light container. With a sinking feeling of dread, he pulled the lid off to reveal an empty bucket.
“Um. Mom? We’re out of rice.”
Inko glanced between him and the empty bucket before letting out a groan. “I meant to pick some up on my way back home. I’ll have to run to the store and get some.” She scooped up her bag, heading to the genkan to put her shoes back on.
“I’ll come with.” Izuku offered, following behind and grabbing his red sneakers off the rack.
His mom always liked to shop in the little grocery store just a block away. It was less crowded than the bigger ones, and the owner, a fair man who usually worked at the cash register, never upped the prices on them.
They didn’t have to walk far to reach their destination, and it didn’t take them very long to find what they needed.
“Hello, Midoriya-Sama.” The owner of the store greeted them with a wave.
“Watanabe-San!” Inko greeted making small talk with the owner as he began scanning their groceries.
“That’ll be 1850.00 yen. Cash or-” Watanabe trailed off, eyes widening as he looked at something behind them.
The horrified look on his face had Izuku glancing in the same direction. A man had just run into the shop. His skin was half charred and blackened and there was a crazed look in his eyes as he looked around desperately.
“Stay back Izuku,” Inko said quietly, leaving her handbag on the register and slowly approaching the man. “Sir? Are you alright?” She asked cautiously stopping about five feet from him.
“He- He’s coming!” The man shrieked backing away from her and sending a terrified look out the large glass windows of the shop.
Before Inko had time to react a wave of flame burst through the glass engulfing the entire front of the store. Izuku hit the ground, ducking as the flames sent a wave of heat his way. The crackling sound of fire filled his ears, but he pushed himself to his feet with a cry. “Mom!”
Where his mother had stood moments prior a massive wall of flames now resided. “Mom!” Izuku screamed in horror, stepping forwards to try to find his mother through the fiery haze.
A hand grabbed his wrist before he could run towards the flames. “Kid- don’t!” Watanabe held firmly to his wrist, keeping him from running into the fiery inferno.
“But- Mom!” Izuku tried to wrench free from his grip, but the man pulled Izuku towards him holding the greenette tight.
“Kid- It’s too late. She’s gone.” The man strained against his flailing limbs holding him back as the fire raged before them.
“No- no she- Mom!” Izuku screamed, but there was no answer over the roar of the flames.
The flames seemed to shift, and Izuku got a clear look of a large man he’d only ever seen on tv. Standing over two crumpled figures, was the number two hero, Endeavor. His angry blue eyes held no remorse for the lives he had ended early.
As the cold blue eyes fell on him, Izuku could do nothing but weep.