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Midoriya Izuku was four when he discovered he was quirkless. He was four when an extra toe joint on a radio destroyed his life.
Midoriya Izuku was seven when he discovered he was a Lace. He was seven when he discovered he had a community, he wasn’t alone.
It was the best day of his life.
Oh, of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. It was nowhere near perfect. Laces all had something broken to them; they had seen too much to be like everyone else. The things he learnt within his community weren’t all happy.
He learnt to recognize the distinctive red shoes, to pick up others like him with nothing more than a glance. They were visible, after all. He learnt the symbols and the words, he learnt how to figure out as quickly and safely as possible if someone was Lace friendly -a Firefly- or not -a Swan. He learnt to recognize the symbols on buildings that told him as much. Where the Laces clinics were, where he would get help and where he wouldn’t.
He learnt the codes the quirkless used. He used them so much he could read some ciphers like they weren’t coded at all. He learnt all the words they used, those that other people knew and those that were exclusive to the Lace community. He got accounts on the forums. He talked with people just like him, finally feeling like he was understood. He learnt to be proud of being a Lace.
He learnt some nice things too. He got the sentiment of community, he found people who encouraged his dreams. He learnt traditions that brought him closer to them even though he’d never met another quirkless person in real life. He burnt the spider lilies he got on the first Sunday of each month, even if it took hours, and searched for another trail of fire on another roof. He drew wings and angels on his shoes every time he learnt about a quirkless suicide, and burnt one lily for them. He supported his community and got support in return.
He was seven, when he first got an account on a Lace forum. On the Lace forum, actually, the one almost everyone had. Spider Lilies. Their network. Their failsafe. Their safe place. It, however, wasn’t until he was nine that he learnt the harsher truths of the world they lived in. It was still awfully young; but people like him, like them, didn’t get the luxury of time.
What does the white spider lily next to the username mean? And the black one? he asked, innocent. He’d never seen it before, but the day he turned nine the little emojis appeared everywhere. The dark blue pearl and the light one? Why is there a wing?
A mod DMed him, and patiently explained.
The pearls mean the user Shadow Walked. They had packed their bags, and left home to see who would search for them. Some left for only 48 hours, some a whole week. If the pearl was dark blue, they had come back home without anyone searching for them.
The wing meant the user flew away -they left. They were gone. They decided to learn how to fly, and did. It meant they had killed themselves -but Laces didn’t say it like that. They didn’t view suicide like other did.
People with black spider lilies had attempted to learn how to fly too. They just hadn’t succeeded. Not everyone chose to show the icon, but some did. Not everyone chose to draw the spider lilies under their shoes and, on afterparty days, the days of mourning, draw another, more visible, lily, instead of a wing or an angel. It was fine.
Those with the white ones were gardeners. Sometimes it was planned, sometimes not. They had found the shoes, most of the time, the red shoes left on the rooftops with white laces on a star pattern. They all knew what it meant. And so they became gardeners; they came down to find the body, they burnt the spider lilies on it, they buried it and planted lilies. And they took care of them for years. It was their tradition, because Laces could only count on each other. They took care of their own even in death.
Izuku was still nine, a few months later, when he Shadow Walked. It was during school break, and it lasted exactly ninety-eight hours and fourteen minutes. Four days, two hours, and fourteen minutes. His mom didn’t notice he was gone. He added the dark blue pearl to his accounts and to his laces, laces that were white for three weeks afterwards.
He decided that if no one noticed he was gone, then he should just be gone. He had not read the guides -they were not accessible to users under thirteen- but tried to overdose anyway, with some of his mom’s medicine. It didn’t work; he was in and out of consciousness for almost the whole week and felt terrible for a lot longer, but he survived. The white laces stayed even longer after that, and he carefully drew a spider lily under the sole of his left shoe.
After that he had his own go-bag at the ready at all times. Just in case. There were countless advice and guides to that on the forums, and those were accessible to everyone.
Izuku was ten when he started to self harm. The only ones who knew were the other Laces on the forums. It helped, in a way, it helped in the way it gave him a sentiment of control and it helped him get all the anger and the frustration and the hurt and the sadness and the mourning off.
It never got too far; there were guides for that too. Too many Laces had been lost to a cut that ended up deeper than intended; it wasn’t worth it, behaving like it was all bad. Most understood the feeling. Most had done it at some point. No one was judgemental. They helped him.
Izuku was eleven when he gained a white spider lily emote next to his username.
It was in February. The past month he had seen another trail of fire, not so far, but missed the Lace who started it. So this time he went to the very rooftop the fire came from, hoping to find them.
Instead he found a pair of red shoes, with white laces in a star pattern wearing five dark blue pearls, a crown of spider lilies, and a note.
To the Lace who will find me,
I assume it’s you, at least. I assume you came with the flowers hoping to find me, the very day after I wrote that note. I’m sorry to disappoint you. I really am.
My name is Katira Jikan, and I’m a Lace. You probably noticed the pearls.
I hate to put that burden on you. You could as well be a kid, for all I know. You could be younger than I am. But I am tired and I am done. I want to learn how to fly. I’m so tired, tired of patching up those wounds, tired of my parents hating me for something I can’t control, tired of having no prospects for the future. And so, here I am.
I am sorry. Really, I am. But please bear the white lily for me -I don’t want to let my body be forgotten. I want to die like a Lace.
My username is BlackNBlue, on all forums. You can dm a mod to make sure my account is winged properly, closed, and let them know I did fly.
Goodbye.
Izuku cried upon that note. He kept it; of course he did. He kept it preciously hidden. He reread it, sometimes. When he needed to remember what he was still fighting for, instead of giving up. He fought for all the people like Katira Jikan who had given up the fight.
But he came down. He did find the body -he almost threw up. It was flattened and twisted. The limbs were at angles they shouldn’t have been. He saw it twisting, and for a second thought they were still alive -but no, of course not. The feet didn’t look like feet anymore. The head was pretty much gone, exploded. The arms were hanging on by a thread at some points, like they would detach and fall at the slightest movement.
It was the most disgusting, horrible, gruesome sight in his life.
He metaphorically rolled up his sleeves, literally put on gloves, and got to work.
He had to collect the bits that had blown off. He gathered pieces of brain and muscles and bones that were lying on the ground. Then he dragged the body; thankfully it wasn’t far away from the forest.
He took all of his lilies, and the spider lilies, and burnt them on the body. Most of the clothing burnt too, very properly, and Izuku was thankful and glad it went right. It took a while, with several layers that he burnt separately and he had to make sure there wouldn’t be too much smoke and nothing else would catch on fire.
Then he took a shovel and dug. It took most of the day to do all of that, but he buried Katira Jikan, a stranger who had written him a suicide note and whom he felt responsible for, in a way. She was about his age.
He planted white spider lilies on her grave. It was the tradition. He would take care of those flowers for years afterwards, without fail. Sometimes without a word, sometimes talking to Jikan about his day or his bullies or literally anything to fill the silence. But he always did, wearing the white spider lily pin that showed it was a gardener.
The first Sunday of February, when Midoriya Izuku was eleven, was the first time he buried someone.
Izuku was twelve and half when it happened.
Spider Lilies
If you found this, you are one of us. You aren’t alone. We are here, now.
Spider Lilies is dedicated to us, the Lace community. Here, you can discuss safely, ask for help and advice, learn everything you need to know to live as a Lace.
Giving away information that reveals your, or any other Lace’s, legal civilian identity is strictly forbidden. Revealing locations more detailed than a country/prefecture is only allowed under strict conditions.
Do not forget to read the rules.
Create your account.
Consult the Lace survival guides.
Consult the cipher lists.
Consult the Lace culture guides.
Party request
Girl-Of-The-Sundawn
Rehg ao e udhycw savrv qsiqihi.
Y mo wroogkf tgn e vgegr zi pimmks oepaxds vz savrv vwld qt. X qy dcxiwca, afggic pdp vtueh. G gtgl seci ja npdrr flv hg bpn; X azqh boy yik ifzighjmpo pe. M blm'h owri ie pq lq arebk'g xhmvwj mpo muwr ezjw w txio bccwy edqdfowvsh. Y pqy'w krmt nt sjcdcu zglu mi uen aacli vqdfpq fsp jd, zwp eaddq itye qc x vvapi qpbx.
Kohapjv, lm hwvin mawwg bi y khuzp mc ixq yzrdw ufsv eu tpgjk oppbipp zbv hipgdupr koa rl ezq wjith icefhmld svw oycsqip. T dm xmqzzdu axabupr wo ebxoh lk ecn favpqtmyi oojpc btcngcv' wmqedg sjh pb ebgy wo e nxqhq kj htlqtlo dewp ht faistt.
U jlye rm mqcthib lyfj orire x kwdu tpgjk. Kq qox, G tnidz ft aeamtqg jmo z usnhtcud ytolmld sc zape. Sequ yrt vcntwja tgtiqpnh oj reda ldsgdksj eke tyosm, tqx X legno oioc qn awax iwuy cyg tejh ht ldei'h ewcj. Sridbqothc hdcqqyh wlm xkfwwhn qumtd whi uehhw hman.
Da ofvt sl qgs dkgpiyap; T far rozjwh mu cuqf mh aw jlmu so mi'h ez Llsar kxhbdwrs. Rqz vlne yn qn tgqv etebnp zixf jd pmp xwthq'u yr rmbb aoug, sqkyawdoy, ela mcl bsg ixmv xxcl bfrhsjgt ued vpfhrgzzz jaehdde. Yzxlh mkkm ta jdg vqnwrw tyosm eaqqthe.
Cyborc fmhwnihiup, rwhawc xmgoav xc saoxhnxq, zhdzavts. Yr azx'ri skbcebsgiqnnp zixf qgol ZQh phq htqe.
Comment by skyfullofstars
Dgoa qqqjti wxjz dgk zgidp fqcix ayq sm. Ka oeijpg zin H cwsnz hyap in xylk. Efgj sekws xje ak itcehqrwt?
Reply by Girl-Of-The-Sundawn
Scgwmdp id jgco dw Z sigc s sib'w ezbtaw, bwui zq bscjt qv e czb em lgiyic.
Epp nsgbb azwt apgqiepp sigc ld igege bz mlwmu trcbj kwbjhvj ewz.
Reply by skyfullofstars
Gnxsq ranvunikt pnx uc. K odekws gvfd g tmv kb qllxadvhzg ypz iertahoi suw dtki duii vzoj.
Comment by tinykitsune
T xh xwkpisb bz gjjb. Slix kicqt qfnkrfh azrieg oirkzke qj ns.
H aozgl mb vwohpaggm lkt owflt, sjb ormjbf xhj yijp; rjzk trtwimit cs traggm el hbyd mt tpb zc ois Rliepwvx ksseicypzp.
Reply by Girl-Of-The-Sundawn
Ll ofgxptb wgyc ilqr. Tdzukqt io rmz eehrv!
Comment by boy-of-ciphers
Pracm bm yw bjcllhcn mh zjanc hqk fa mpl ltdxzv uw vr uruwzd elyk ry B ggui daly gjkmv?
Ka akk qu fwx axk nzog dhcn mh ewxk wx zokq maxl; U ckoh g (Tdyy&'Qjmxu') udhp lhnpaz vxw zgec mh jswz cnuk ynk (Ibjr&Krtqzr) kneiq ijx'm kgiv axo sztwhuk romxo A'y bygh zf cax xxfzbidxkh (ghqzuiq ehzyje meggbr).
Toyf fble la ndtumrix tq dqvcm iui j itol aa dah tzpam fx fckm'v ubjr.
Reply by Girl-Of-The-Sundawn
Ll ofgxptb wgyc ilu qqzfywdxcg, gy ndydbp ffwwx.
Vdnlf YB ermrs mgqv dihcw mtukcps, W okyas bc tfpc qla lwydx qt azqz is xcio mgq fji wc bjjpt lbdr lk adgk mzo ilu bbsoahw.
Dihcwrxwu, ubkqgii id tfj kpvjw!
They were organizing a party, Izuku realized as he deciphered. With four people, so far, and they were still looking for a gardener. It was recent; the original post wasn’t even half a month old. They hadn’t found their gardener yet and it seemed unlikely they had been desperate enough to party without waiting some more to find one. None of the accounts had been winged -yet.
Hesitantly, he typed a comment of his own.
Comment by GreenBoy
G sunyl ak ybmpcsarc ge h xsqjctqy.
Wauk nkawcw hy mqmf wgq sc gzk Z uzt nxatzkd O uoxs ksjk agdl fx xusx shivdtq cuay sr ssit vw s fayxmukwd gq O ohe yhbc zthk as cmt'f mrdk ul g syvq koje.
U ornd xcyfyzusomte jffbkptuux dniyzuve smj royl sms lpuy ayw qkqz am kzd imsylel rkazuve as gnvqhik hz augsu td gpxmuxwc. Cc imu fjfgloll kzhy gt PTj.
A few seconds later, he got a DM.
And that’s how he became the gardener of an entire party, four people, on top of the one he was already taking care of, at twelve and half.
Somehow, in a fucked up way that was the way of the Lace community, it made him happy. He helped. These people were his community, they were like him. They were people who were tired and just wanted to stop struggling and go missing, and it was fine. He understood. So he would help, give them a beautiful garden even if he couldn't give them a proper white ball, because he understood.
That was how, when Izuku was twelve and half, he learnt four names, and four usernames. He talked to these people; they were happy, in a way, happy that finally they got to have their party and go missing. Girl-Of-The-Sundawn was seventeen, and seemed horribly sad to find out he bore a white lily at twelve. Her smile was sad, but warm. boy-of-ciphers was fifteen, and he was blind; he had been used for experiments by traffickers. He had ended up in the system before, and after being saved was there again. tinykitsune was thirteen, her blue hair matched perfectly her eyes, and she smelled like the sea. skyfullofstars and her sister were both fourteen, twins, and they looked the exact same. They held hands the whole time Izuku saw them.
That was all he would be able to remember about them, eventually, besides their real name. But he never told anyone those.
The twins shared a garden. They were together, and though they both had different lilies they were also incredibly together. All of them learnt how to fly on a building near the forest, and Izuku buried all five of them there. It took a lot of time, but he did it. He had trained physically -he wouldn’t become a hero without some training, after all.
When Izuku was fourteen, he was saved by his idol. Then his dreams were shattered by him, and he was left on a rooftop.
So Izuku, fourteen years old, Lace, bearing six white spider lilies and with more scars than most people would see in their lives, wiped out his tears, got off the rooftop, and kept going. He was a gardener, he had six gardens belonging to his own kind he had to tend to. He wouldn’t allow them to fall into disrepair.
He posted about All Might, warning his community about him. The number one hero wasn’t a Firefly, wasn’t an ally. He learnt that day that his hero wasn’t a hero for all, he was just another Swan, just one more hero against them, if that was all he was. But he kept going. He had to keep going, for Katira Jikan, for Girl-Of-The-Sundawn, for skyfullofstars, for tinykitsune, for boy-of-ciphers and for all the Laces like them who decided to learn to give up and go to the afterparty.
When he first entered UA, for the entrance exams, ten months later, he was ready to destroy whatever obstacles came his way, and become the world’s first quirkless hero.