Chapter Text
My name is Izuku Midoriya, and when I was four I learned my first real lesson in life. People aren’t born equal.
“I’d give up if I were you, kid,” a portly doctor said when I was four.
“I’m sorry,” my mom told me as she denied my dreams later that day.
“Izuku can be written as Deku, which means he’s useless like a doll!” Kacchan laughed.
“You’re old enough to take care of yourself. I am going to go to America to be with your father to try to make some more money. Once we can afford it we will fly you over too,” my mom said before leaving me on a plane that never landed when I was ten.
“Dammit Deku! Because of you my old hag is all sad and depressed because Auntie wanted to get away from you! You just hurt those who deserve better!” Kacchan growled as he beat me up.
“I’m going to put you in a cheaper apartment but you’ll still go to the cheap schools,” my dad said as he visited me, for the first and only time since he left, a month after the accident.
“If you want to be a hero so badly, take a swan dive off the roof of the building and pray for a quirk in your next life!” Kacchan laughed along with his “friends”.
“So a quirkless hero, it’s just impossible,” All Might said, destroying all hope I had left.
Ten years of torment and pain as my only wish was to be a hero. A wish that wasn’t going to be granted for this isn’t a fairy tale, but a reward that would be earned through hard work and kindness from strangers.
Izuku Midoriya: Null
The apartment building that I lived in wasn’t far from my old one, but was smaller with only eight apartments, a shared kitchen and living room, and no parking. Only four of the other apartments in the building were occupied by other people who were kind to me and helped me with stuff when needed. The apartments themselves were just a single room with a small personal bathroom attached. The bed, desk, and dresser were all in the rooms already. My room was mostly empty now, the posters that filled my walls in my old room packed away not long after I got back minutes ago. The only posters remaining were the Wild Wild Pussycats, Sky Crawler, Present Mic, and Mirko ones. The figures in my desk were all missing except for the single one of Midnight. I sat on my bed as the silence filled the air. It wasn’t bad, but even I knew that it wasn’t good as I recalled the conversation I had merely hours ago.
“Can a person without a quirk be a hero?” I asked. “I-I’ve always wanted to be one, but e-everyone’s a-aways said I c-couldn’t. So, i-is it possible?” I asked, looking up to see a scrawny man. “W-who a-are y-you?” I asked. “A fake?”
“It’s me kid, this is my true form,” All Might said, his voice weaker and not as booming.
“H-how?”
“See this scar?” he asked, lifting up his shirt to reveal what was a puncture wound that was purple and had all his skin pulled against it. “Pretty gross, right? Got this in a fight about five years ago. My respiratory system was practically destroyed, lost my whole stomach, and all of the surgeries wore me out, and it can’t be fixed with anything. At the moment, I can only do hero work for three hours everyday. The rest of the time I look like this,” he said, putting his shirt back down and looking into my eyes, showing that he was being completely honest.
“I-I, w-who w-was th-this? T-Toxic Ch-chainsaw?” I asked, recalling big fights from five years ago.
“No, they couldn’t touch me. No, no one’s heard of this fight except for very few people. I’ve kept this under wraps and used all of my leverage as the number one to make sure that no one could hear about it,” he explained. “Imagine what would happen if the world found out that I was really a fragile man who pukes up blood all the time. I’m always smiling, the Symbol of Peace who saves the day. The man who is seen to have no fear, but the truth is, I smile to hide the fear. It’s a brave face I use when the pressure is too high. It honestly sucks,” he sighed, “but it’s my duty. Many people rely on me, including multiple heroes and some rescue workers. I can’t stop, or show that I’m not at the same power level as before just because I have a small scar and some blood loss,” he explained, looking at me as if in deep thought before making a decision. “Still, a quirkless hero huh? It’s impossible.” he said plainly. “I’ve been a hero for a very long time, and I’ve fought every type of villain. The bloodthirsty ones, the sneaky ones, the powerful ones, you name it. I know what they are capable of and many wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone. I’ve seen villains so fast that I was the only one who could keep up, ones that made any support equipment useless, even villains who reduced a full city block to ruins within a mere minute,” he explained, being as clear and concise as possible.
I felt as my whole body started to become heavier and my posture fell.
“I’ve seen many heroes, both the old and wise and the young and overzealous, who were killed before I could even look at them. Some had remarkable quirks, skills, and even equipment, but it wasn’t enough,” he continued, raising his gaze to meet mine. “So a quirkless hero, it’s just impossible. You must understand, hero work isn’t jokes, or laughs, or anything like that. It’s cold, merciless, and unforgiving at times and without a quirk, all you’d end up doing is either dying or worse being a liability and getting someone else killed. Heroes are needed to save people and if you arrive and can’t save someone, then their death is on your hands. I’m saying all of this because I’m a hero, so I need to do what I can to save you, even if it’s from a dangerous future. If you still want to help, you can become a cop, a doctor, a firefighter, or you can find something else that is realistic for a quirkless person,” he explained. “You can do other things, just this is not a possible path for you. I’m sorry for not saying what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth.”
I sat on my bed trying to not tear up.
Damn it! I knew that this was the only real answer I would get but still, it just hurts so bad.
“W-who was I k-kidding? W-what can I do now though?” I asked myself as a knock was at my door.
“Izuku, are you alright?” an old male voice asked. “Kuroka mentioned seeing you run up in tears. Do you need to talk, or maybe tea?”
“I-I’m just t-tired Uncle Iroh,” I replied to the oldest in the apartment building who was like an uncle to me.
“Alright, well let me know if you need anything. Tea can help more than people think.”
I sat in silence for a bit and then noticed my pile of notebooks on quirks and such and had a thought. I grabbed one and flipped through it, not sure of what answer I was looking for, what wisdom I had as a child to try to counteract the fact that I couldn’t be the single goal I had in life.
Hero analysis for the future Vol. 1. I was so hopeful back then. I thought to myself as I read through the pages.
I eventually got to a page that had the members of the Wild Wild Pussycats on it and noticed a small note on the bottom.
When I grow up I’m going to help people!
“But how can I do that now? Maybe I should’ve stayed on that roof for a little longer,” I muttered, recalling Bakugou’s words.
“If you want to be a hero so badly, take a swan dive off the roof of the building and pray for a quirk in your next life!”
I flipped to the next page which had Midnight on it and noticed something else at the bottom.
Even when her quirk isn’t useful she finds a way to help and do something.
“Wait, quirks,” I thought, going through my notebook again.
Heroes pay for people to analyze their quirks and such, right? Why can’t I try that?
Bold of you to assume they would care what you would tell them.
I began seriously looking at all the different notes I had on various heroes, a few villains, and even some of their gear before I realized another problem.
Who would I even send it to? Not like most of them have a PO box. Even then, I can’t market myself as an analyst since I’m a minor… but if my identity is a secret then I should be fine.
I began to go through all of my notebooks, pulling out different notes and rewriting them on pages for specific heroes so all the notes on one hero were in one location. I began to go through them and made a decision.
“Alright, so the two best candidates for me to send my first one to are either Midnight or Ryukyu… Ryukyu is part of the top ten so she’s probably going to more easily overlook it given how much fan mail she must get so Midnight it is,” I said to myself before pulling out the small laptop I had cobbled together from the junk yard that was Dagobah Beach.
I began to type up the information I had on her as well as analyzing her use of her quirk, a whip, and other weapons she could possibly use. I then started on theories on how her quirk actually works and certain things that she might be able to do as well to help other heroes such as putting her gas into a canister that acts like a smoke bomb. I decided to type it in an encoded form in case something happened to it in the mail and someone didn’t get it if they weren’t supposed to. As I printed that off I then drew a quick image of her in her costume and numbered certain areas to correspond to the pages of analysis. I then printed the image before realizing I needed to tell her who I was as well as come up with a pseudonym. I then remembered something from when I was in elementary school and was first declared quirkless.
“Wanna know what I heard? Midoriya’s a null,” a boy said.
“What does that mean?” a girl asked.
“He doesn’t have a quirk, it means he’s a useless Deku,” Bakugou said.
As I recalled this I typed up a letter explaining that I was attempting to do some freelance analysis and that this was free for her and asked if she would recommend me to others. I signed the letter but instead of my name I chose something that said who I was before putting it in a yellow envelope. I quickly put on a too big hoodie, black mask, and sweatpants before walking out into the night and to the post office that her PO box was at not too far from UA. When I got back I found the adults of the apartment building in the foyer all of them looking at me.
“Izuku, why don’t we sit down and have a small discussion?” Mr. Murdock said, grasping his cane.
POV Nemuri Kayama aka Midnight
“Who the hell delivers mail at this time of night?” I muttered, walking into the common room of the teacher’s dorms at UA.
“Could be a student delivering a paper,” Shota said, drinking his coffee at the table.
“I know, which is the only reason why I am going out to collect it,” I said, looking to see that it was one in the morning.
I walked out of UA and down to the post office. I walked over to my PO box and opened it to see a large yellow envelope, similar to the one UA sends to applicants or the police send information in. I sighed as I took it out and walked back to UA. I went to my apartment and sat at my desk opening it. There were a bunch of papers, one of which had a very detailed drawing of me with numbers and arrows pointing at parts of my costume. All were encoded except for one that looked to be a professional letter. I put the encoded papers into my scanner for the decoder Nezu made us to decode. I then started to read the letter.
Dear Midnight,
I am a new analyst making their debut by giving you a free analysis. I am not connected to any agencies or organizations and am doing this freelance. Because of some circumstances I am not going to use my real name so you can call me Null. Any feedback on the analysis would be amazing, my PO box is 1964 Mustafu General Post Office. Also, if you think my work is good enough please tell some other heroes about this since I am doing this as a part time job. It is encoded so it doesn’t get in the wrong hands and accidentally puts you in harm's way. I also just want to say that you are one of my favorite Pro Heroes and inspired me to try to do more than nothing.
-Null
I looked to see the decoding was done and pulled up the non coded version on my computer and started reading it. I kept reading so many ideas and theories as well as designs for gear I could have made and used. I then went to the Hero Network chat for UA teachers and people we normally work with.
Dommy Mommy: Holy Shit!
Bunny:What?
Dommy Mommy: I just got a random analysis in my PO at one in the fucking morning and this is what I got.
Dommy Mommy: *Null.zip*
Coffee=Life: Wow, that’s some dangerous info.
Future Sight: Who’s the analyst?
Dommy Mommy: He’s a new one and called himself Null. He sounds younger than me since he said I was an inspiration to him to do this.
Sonic: Woah, for being new that’s amazing!
Dragon-Born: Looks like they know their stuff.
Music Man: Little listener is good.
Dommy Mommy: I’m assuming all of you want to know their rates to order one.
I got off the HN and started to write a reply.
POV Izuku Midoriya
“Alright, so first off we just need to talk about something that we’ve noticed,” Mr. Murdock said, his face in my direction despite being blind and me sitting relatively quietly.
“You have stopped showing your emotions and have become like a stone,” Iroh said. “All of us worry for you.”
“Realistically, you don’t act like how you used to. You used to have so much energy,” Kuroka added, her black ears back slightly as her face was concerned.
“Kid, simply put, what’s wrong?” Mr. Murdock asked.
“I-I’ve decided to do analyses on heroes,” I said.
“Ok, that explains what you are doing, but that’s not what I asked,” he said, looking at me despite his eyes not being able to see anything.
“Izuku, what happened today to make you shut yourself in your room and leave before returning at two in the morning?” Kuroka asked, her voice low.
“I-I had the t-truth h-hit me like a t-train,” I muttered.
“What truth would hit you so hard?” Iroh asked.
“The f-fact that I c-can’t be a hero.”
“Who the fuck said that?” Kuroka asked.
“Kuroka,” Iroh said, warningly since he wasn’t a fan of hard language.
“Still, that isn’t a fact, that’s an opinion. Also yes, I would argue that in a court of law,” Mr. Murdock said.
“Young man, allow me to tell you a secret, one that the others here already know. Many years ago, when I was not much older than you are now, there was a war of Heroes vs Villains vs an Army. During that war I had just graduated from high school and made a decision. I took my ancestor’s armour and made off with it. The metal was dark with a slight green sheen to it. I wore it into battle many times to assist the heroes without a license, back then though it mattered much less. After the war I was given a license and began to work as a full time hero,” he explained. “My quirk isn’t too powerful, I can control flames and lighting, however I couldn’t make them myself. So I had to use hidden equipment to make them. I am sure that you know of the Dragon of the West, that is the name I went by at those times.”
I felt as my mind went blank as I realized that the calm, tea loving, wise old man who has helped me out, was the number one hero from when All Might was in school.
“Hah, I think he’s a little broken,” Kuroka chuckled, poking my forehead.
“I know, I used to be commanding with my presence. My nephew however saw my reliance on equipment as a weakness and swore to only use his quirk. He has risen quite high in the ranks, but his belief that I dishonored our family with equipment has caused him to believe that only quirks are power. I know that most of society is now like this, but perhaps they need someone to prove otherwise. Maybe they need a quirkless hero,” he said, looking at me with a hint of something. “Now then, if you want to write your analyses on heroes and send them the information now I will not stop you, but I don’t want you to allow others to close off a path. Ask and we will assist you,” Iroh finished.
“I may not seem like it, but my father was an American boxer and I trained to fight despite my missing vision,” Mr. Murdock said. “I can train you similarly.”
“I may just be a simple hostess at a cafe, but I can help rebuild your confidence to the point of being able to have a conversation and not stumble over your words. Who knows, maybe I can make the ladies swoon for you and the men fear you too,” Kuroka said.
“I know that gyms don’t accept quirkless for meaningless reasons, but if you were to help me in my tea shop I could build your strength up considerably faster but much more ruthless than a gym will,” Iroh added.
Suddenly the television turned on with a single word appearing on the screen, Alibaba.
I will help you too, there’s someone I know from online who will be willing to help you, just don’t ask them how I know them.
“Ah, it seems you even have the support of the young hermit in our small community on your side. With this support you will definitely be able to be a hero,” Iroh declared. “So, what’ll it be? Do you want us to help you train to be a hero or will you allow others to tell you what you can be?”
“I-I-I’ll do it! Thank you,” I said, tears slowly coming out.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it kitten,” Kuroka said, wrapping me in a hug and practically shoving my face in her chest.
“Idiot, you’re literally suffocating him,” a voice said as I was pulled free from her grasp.
“Hey, what kind of boy wouldn’t enjoy going out like that?” she asked, innocently.
AN-
Welp… I think I am going to work on one story at a time so I don’t get burned out again. So in doing this I realized that I would have to drop quite a few of my stories and I then realized that a number of them could be combined into a more coherent but also slightly complex and layered narrative than what I normally make. This will be combining several aspects of quite a few of my fics. For those who are going to be upset at those fics being labeled “rewritten” or something similar I will apologize but they aren’t being completely dropped just adjusted into a more well rounded story with the major beats just some small details changed, also don’t expect all of the beats that have already been hit to appear fast as I want to build up the narrative beyond just a simple story. Also, I don’t know how long this is going to last but I will try my best to do it. Thank you all for understanding and make sure to follow, favorite, comment, and kudos! Link’s Out!