Chapter Text
Red shoes sat near the fence next to a yellow backpack. A note pinned beneath a stone sitting in front of the two seemingly ordinary objects. A boy sat at the edge. Looking up at the stars as his legs dangled over the ledge. Wind rustling through his curly green hair like one last comfort. It wasn't as hard as he thought to sit up here. To watch the people in the bustling city below. Nobody looked up. Why would they. It was dark and the building was closed. Nobody would expect somebody like him to be sitting up here. Then again even if they knew he was sitting up here they would probably look the other way. Nobody cared for a useless quirkless deku like him. That's how it has always been since he turned four years old. And before that well he could barely remember.
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The day had started out normal. Wake up, avoid his mother throwing a few knives at him with her quirk and ignore the stinging insults that left her mouth,take the muzzle used to silence his ramblings and well silence him entirely off, walk to school and, if he was lucky, avoid being beaten up on the way there, find a few hero fights to analyze if there were any and then finally get to school. All of that was normal. The twisted routine he had gotten used to over the years since the diagnosis.
School went like normal as well. Kacchan cornered him before classes and gave him a few blows to the ribs before going to rejoin his friends. Well lackeys, kacchan never really had friends. Not since his quirk came in. After that everyone was an extra and he had lackeys not friends. But he was getting off track.
Classes went as per usual as well. The teachers ignored him mostly. Only half ever singled him out to be a target. And at lunch he managed to hide near the back of the school between the dumpsters to eat. It was at the end of the day that things changed…
“If you want to be a hero that badly… pray for a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof of the building.”
The words shouldn’t have hurt as much as they did. He had been suicide baited many times by many people. He had even heard a few teachers mumble how they wished he would just get rid of himself already. But Kacchan had never ever done it. He always said he was above it and that a useless deku like him didn’t deserve to be baited by someone as great as him. That was something he always thought he wouldn't have to hear from his best friend.
Of course he didn't do it. That would've ruined Kacchan's chances to become a hero. And he couldn't do that. Sure he may have debated it but he would never risk Kacchan's future like that! And besides who didn’t debate suicide constantly. Especially when he's been told to kill himself multiple times a day since he was four years old…
It was when he was walking home that things went even further south. He was so caught up in convincing himself that suicide wasn’t worth ruining Kacchan’s reputation that he didn’t notice the grate behind him begin to wobble. The next thing he knew sludge was forcing its way down his throat and there was nothing he could do.
And then a thought struck him. If he died like this then Kacchan’s reputation wouldn't be damaged. And it wasn’t suicide if the villain killed him now was it. After all he was just a worthless quirkless deku. Who would ever expect someone like him to be able to evade a villain and live. So he stopped fighting. The villain didn’t seem surprised. Must've thought he went unconscious. He soon did.
When he woke there was a bright light. Was this heaven. There was something hitting the side of his face and there was a voice. God? Then things came into focus. It was the sun. and there was someone hitting him and asking if he was alive. He looked to see who it was…
Allmight.
He had been saved by Allmight. The number one hero saved him. His favourite hero. Allmight said something that he didn't really hear because honestly his ears still felt like sludge was drowning in them. Speaking of sludge, he could see the sludge villain tucked away in some bottles in his pocket. That didn't look very secure but this was Allmight after all. Then he was handed his notebook, already signed, and the next thing he knew Allmight was preparing to take off. He stumbled slightly as he tried to ask his question. Allmight didn't seem to hear him because very quickly the number one hero jumped. He stumbled at the leap and grabbed the first thing within his reach.
He was an idiot. A grade A certified idiot. He had grabbed Allmight’s pant leg. And then Allmight tried to shake him off. Well. Until he explained he would die if he let go. It was a little surprising that allmight had tried to shake him off midair but maybe he was just distracted. Yeah that had to be it. The number one hero surely wasn't that oblivious. Then again shouldn’t Allmight have taken him to a hospital or at least called for paramedics. But this is the number one hero after all. What does he know.
It was once they landed that he took the opportunity to ask his question. The burning question that's been simmering underneath his skin since his diagnosis. Can he still be a hero even if he's quirkless. He explained he was bullied heavily and told to kill himself because of the diagnosis. He laid it all out including the abuse at home. All to hear the one thing he desperately wanted to hear since he was four years old.
“No. You're quirkless. It would be too dangerous and you'd just end up being a liability in the field.”
Allmight’s words were cold. But all that stuck out to him were three words. No. The rejection. Quirkless. The fact. Liability. The truth. Those three words rang through his ears like a bell. The word no had been said firmly. The word quirkless had been spat out. The word liability had been cold. He didn't even hear the other words Allmight said to him.
Allmight had looked at him with a mix of pity and disdain. He knew both those looks well. Never had they been mixed. Allmight had ignored what he said about the bullying and abuse too. Just more proof it's what he deserved. And then Allmight left after that. Sludge villain still secured in his pant leg. Leaving him on the roof.
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He didn't know how long he stayed up there. But by the time he came back to himself it was dark out and Musutafa was quiet aside from the few people wandering out to experience the city at night. He glanced at the edge of the roof. No. no he couldn’t. The sludge villain hadn't killed him. It could be traced back to kacchan. And he didn’t want to be the reason someone as heroic as kacchan got blacklisted from being a hero. But he couldn't make himself look away.
It was so tempting. To just walk over and let himself drop. To watch the world rush past him as he fell before finally he would experience the calm silence of death. But he couldn’t. Even if it wasn’t linked back to Kacchan, what about his mother? Sure she was… not the nicest since his diagnosis. But that was his fault for being quirkless. Just like the bullying at school and discrimination in his everyday life.
But the more he thought about it the more he realised that really, this was his only option. His mother probably hadn’t even noticed that he wasn't home yet. And if she had it was only because she hadn't had the chance to beat him yet or cleanse him so he didn't get his quirklessness all over her house. And if he wrote a note then kacchan wouldn’t be blamed for it. If he wrote something vague then everything would be fine. And since he was quirkless then the police wouldn’t look too far into it.
But he couldn’t. He always told himself he wouldn’t become another statistic. Told himself that he would stay strong and not give in to the insults. To give up now… well it is what he promised himself he would never do. He stood up. His mind still in turmoil as he glanced at the door and then the ledge. And he made a deal with himself.
If the door was unlocked and he could come down he would. He would open that door and he would keep going. Keep enduring. Take it as a sign he was supposed to keep moving and that everything would be ok. That the gods hadn’t abandoned him like he believed for so long. And if the door was locked well. That sign was clear enough even to his sludge addled mind.
He walked to the door. His breath held tightly in his lungs as if that would change the outcome in his favour. He placed his hand on the knob. It was cold. The metal was smooth beneath his fingers. He twisted.
It was locked.
He stood there for a moment longer. Still not breathing as he twisted again. Still locked. He exhaled. He should’ve known. He should have known that this world had no place for him. It was clear ever since he was four years old. He was a useless, worthless, quirkless deku. And the gods had long since abandoned him long before the world had. He exhaled as a rush of peace washed over him. He let go of the knob. He let go of his fear and pain and every emotion that had long since plagued him.
He turned and walked to the edge. He knelt down and took off his shoes. Bright red shoes with golden embroidered Q’s on them to symbolize his quirkless status, the black spray paint he used to avoid being the victim of a hate crime was chipping. He had planned to redo it but he supposed that was pointless now. He set down his signature yellow backpack. The straps worn and the yellow colour fading. It had been with him since he was small. Carrying his school books and his quirk analysis notebooks for as long as he could remember along with a med kit since he long ago learned his mother wouldn't help him and a hospital was more likely to purposefully kill him than help.
He wrote the note with a steady hand. It wasn’t flashy or dramatic. It wasn’t melancholy or angry. It was simple and plain. Much like himself. The words felt right. It didn't blame anyone. Not his mother. Not kacchan. Not his teachers or his school mates. He used to believe that if he ever did write a note like this it would rage about the abuse he went through. Rage about the quirkism he experienced. But now as he actually had it written out he realised that this was perfect. He pinned the note down with a loose stone from the concrete of the rooftop.
He climbed the fence of the rooftop. Sitting down on the ledge as he let his legs dangle. He tilted his head back to look at the stars and reveled in the feeling of the wind in his hair. Letting the silence be his witness. In this moment he felt no pain, no anger, no sadness and no fear. All he felt was peace. His scars didn't ache. The lines that littered his wrists didn't make him feel guilt. The starbursts on his torso and upper body didn't burn. And his mind was finally silent.
He stood up after an undisclosed amount of time. Letting his socked feet meet the edge as he kept his eyes on the stars. Tears welling in his eyes. Not because of what he was about to do. But because he forgot the world could be so beautiful. And as he began to tilt his body forward he made one last wish to join the stars when he died. And then he felt weightless. His eyes slipped shut and he smiled as gravity claimed his body.
And Izuku Midoriya flew.