Chapter Text
A notebook, a ballpoint pen, and a TV whose volume is just a bit too high; centered on a news broadcast.
Childhood is not something that can be defined, Izuku knows this, but his can really be summed up in just three things: a notebook, a ballpoint pen, and a TV whose volume is just a bit too high; centered on a news broadcast.
Maybe it’s because of Izuku’s sentimentality towards his favorite childhood hobby of hero analysis. Maybe it’s because if Izuku were to truly think about his childhood he would only remember the pitied stares, the bruises from being pushed down in school, or when his mother fell to the floor in tears because his dad served her divorce papers.
Or maybe it’s because he never had a quirk to make him normal.
Maybe it would be better to just end it all.
“You? A hero”
The class laughed all around Izuku, their mocking ringing loud in his ears, infecting his brain like maggots.
“I know you might want to be a hero, but be realistic Midoriya, there is no way someone like you could be a hero.” Some girl in the back of the class said, stirring up murmurs of agreement around the classroom.
“But-”
“Listen, Midoriya, it is not realistic for someone who is quirkless to be a hero,” his teacher – he never really remembered his name, there was no point in remembering, they were all the same anyways – explained, momentarily joining the class in their raucous laughter.
The teacher sat back down at his desk, after quieting down the class, huffing as he adjusted his glasses to focus on whatever work he had left from the end of the semester. One glance at the clock and Izuku knew that class was over, but unlike all the other students, he chose to instead slink down into his seat, praying not to be noticed.
“Oi, Deku.”
His prayers were never noticed before, why start now?
“Hey, he’s talking to you dipshit,” One of Bakugo’s ‘friends’ snarked, kicking one of the legs of Izuku’s chair, making Izuku flinch from the jerking movement, and in turn only making the others laugh.
In the next moment, Izuku felt a hot spark ignite on his shoulder, the already thread-bare shoulder of his school uniform singing at its seams and most definitely leaving a burn mark on his shoulder. Izuku looked around, whatever hope was left in him wanting their to be someone to notice, to care.
The teacher left the classroom without so much as a backwards glace.
“Don’t you dare think about applying to U.A., what the hell would you even do there?” Bakugo scoffed, the thought alone seeming to rile him up more than anything else. Once Bakugo let go of his shoulder, he moved with lightning speed to grab Izuku’s hero notebook and throw it out of the school window.
Izuku felt his legs jerk, itching to run after it, to grab the only thing that brought him some comfort in his day-to-day life. He could feel himself staring out towards the window, desperate to see if his notebook was alright, maybe it would have avoided the fountain, and just be waiting on the solid ground for him to pick it up. Maybe, maybe, maybe-
“Maybe you should do yourself a favor. Take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk in the next life.” Bakugo laughed after his taunt, smiling to his friends as he walked away.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
It would be so easy.
Mom is never around anyway.
She doesn’t care; nobody does.
Maybe it would be for the best.
Maybe I would be doing myself a favor.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Only Izuku remained in the classroom.
Alone, he was alone now, always.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
The bottom of Izuku’s uniform was positively soaked, sloshing through the green-tinted waters of the school pond, as he flailed around trying to feel for his beloved notebook. He could hear the other students who were leaving late giggling as they watched him flounder about. The mockery still irked him a bit, it always had, but he grew used to it enough that it wouldn’t cause him to breakout into tears like it would have a few years ago. Mockery as something he could handle, bullying was something he could handle, it was the pity that made him clench his teeth and feel his bones grind together in something like annoyance, maybe it was anger, or maybe it was sadness for himself.
There was once a teacher at his elementary school who took pity on him. She was a soft-spoken woman, with a weak water-based quirk, and she was positively adored. But every time she looked at Izuku, she would give him this look with her eyes slightly downturned, her bottom lip slowly rising above, like she was looking at a kicked puppy.
But she never did anything.
When he was picked on in class, pushed during recess time, mocked day in and day out, all she would do was give him that pitying stare.
“What a poor child,” she must have thought, “Born quirkless, a freak, behind everyone else in every way”.
Izuku was kicked out of her class when one day, when he got pushed into a desk. He saw her watching him, those sad, pitying eyes focused on him, and then turned away like nothing had happened. So, in an act of childhood anger, he kicked her in the shins.
He was suspended, for a month, and then moved to a different class.
When his mother was told, she was mad, righteously so, but later she gave him that same pitying stare, that same “I’m sorry Izuku” that he got when he was four, propped on the exam bench of a pediatrician’s office.
So yeah, the bullying sucked, being treated like a heap of worthless trash sucked, but that self-gratifying pity made him want to claw his eyes out and take a swan dive-
When Izuku eventually found his notebook, it was absolutely sopping, having rested itself at the bottom of the pond, and was also being nibbled on by a blubbering koi fish. Izuku gently pried the koi fish off his notebook, setting it as carefully as he could back into the water. Then, without even getting out of the pond, he attempted to pry the pages open. Everything was a mess. Pages were stuck together, pen marks were smudged, some beyond recognition. He thought there might be a chance of saving it if he found some way to let it air dry, but his hope seemed unfounded.
With a sigh, Izuku stepped out of the pond, the sogging bottoms of his pants snuggling against his skin as he walked, weighing down every step he took.
Izuku kept his head down, a habit he gained naturally through his life, as he walked down the streets. He tried to avoid the busy roads, not wanting to run into any of his classmates or others who knew of his quirkless status, not wanting to introduce more trouble to himself before he could go home and make himself a mediocre dinner. The weather was fine, a light breeze blowing through that would have been much appreciated any other day, but now was just making his shins absolutely frigid.
Once he approached the overpass, he felt his arms hunch closer to his ribs, his gut stirred with worry, a sinking feeling that he couldn’t quite place. But this was the only path for him to get home, any other way would take another twenty minutes, and Izuku was running out of momentum fast, he just needed to take the quickest way, for his own sake.
“You’ll do nicely.”
Izuku felt like he barely had time to look to find the source of the voice before he was drowning.
His notebook fell from his hands as they reached to grasp at the sludge invading his mouth, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. Every limb flailed out, there had to be an escape there had to be something that he could do because he was drowning. He tried to scream, to beg for help, but because of his declining lack of oxygen, all that could come out was pathetic wheezes, which only seemed to inspire the villain to try to drown him faster.
“You know kid, if you would just shut up and let me take over we wouldn’t be having these problems. So just stay still!” The villain made of sludge growled out.
Izuku clawed, his arms trying to reach into his mouth only to be held back, everything was getting consumed in sludge. He was being consumed. In one last test of strength, Izuku used whatever energy he had to clamp tightly the muscles of his jaw, slamming together his teeth and effectively biting the villain with as much force as he could muster.
“AH! YOU LITTLE SHIT!” The villain yelled out, obviously pained, but no less deterrent in his attempt to fill Izuku’s lungs until every molecule of oxygen, of life, inside him was snuffed out with whatever awful smelling sludge this villain was made of.
The muscles in his arms and legs began slowing down, losing the fight to the sludge, feeling like they were trudging through tar. His eyelids would barely stay open, the gray concrete coming in and out of focus as his body felt less and less like his own.
His thoughts were slowing down, the adrenaline had run its course, like even his own body knew to accept defeat. Of course this would be what came of Izuku Midoriya, quirkless freak, wants to be a hero so bad; yet cannot even save himself. How could someone like him ever save someone else?
Well, now he wouldn’t have to find out.
.
.
.
TEXAS SMASH!!!
Izuku gasped in a heaving breath, his lungs still felt coated in sludge, and his mind was still fuzzy, but all that he could currently understand is that he was freed from whatever the villains plan was. He hunched over, his lungs violently expelling all the sludge they could, the coughing eventually making him dry heave on the ground, he felt bile come up his throat but he tried to swallow it down, god forbid he embarrass himself in front of All Might.
All Might.
All Might?
“ALL MIGHT?!” Izuku screeched, wondering if he really was dead, or just plain delirious because there was no way that the number one hero was right here! The same hero that Izuku collected posters, figurines, clothing, any piece of merch he could get his hands on. The same hero Izuku watched since he was three years old, the same her who (in figurine form) came with him to brave the worst day of his life. The same hero who was fighting a fire-quirked villain when his dad abandoned him and his mother – secretly Izuku liked to imagine it was his father who All Might fought, who All Might put in handcuffs and sent away forever, never to make his mother sob again. It was him. It was Izuku’s hero. It did not matter that he was the number one hero, it did not matter that he was known all throughout the world, no, he was Izuku’s hero that was all that mattered.
“Is this yours, young…?” All Might questioned, handing him his sopping wet hero analysis notebook. In All Might’s hands, it seemed so pathetic.
“Midoriya, my name is Izuku Midoriya, and you’re All Might!” Izuku rambled out, his brain barely being able to think through any word he was saying as he looked into the glowing blue eyes of his hero.
“That I am young Midoriya, and now you shall never fear because I AM HERE!” All Might announced, slightly flexing his muscles in a gleaming expression perfect for a candid photo. And Izuku would have absolutely taken hundreds of pictures if her could, except he could barely register that he was even on the same street as All Might – and also his phone camera has been cracked since forever.
“All Might I-”
“You would like an autograph? Of course! I’ve already signed it on that notebook of yours!”
And one glance proved that true, that even though Izuku’s notebook was sopping wet, All Might had dutifully scratched his signature on it with a small permanent marker. It didn’t matter if his notebook was completely ruined, he was never getting rid of it now!
“Thank you All Might! Oh my god this is so amazing! I just wanted to ask you-”
“It’s been wonderful talking with you young… citizen! But now I must go and deliver the sludge villain to the police!” All Might declared as he held up an empty bottle containing a large amount of gray sludge which if one were to look closely, one would see glaring eyes and a snarling mouth.
“Thank you for helping me catch him! And remember, go PLUS ULTRA!” All Might shouted as he readied himself to soar away.
Izuku knew, legitimately knew, that he should let All Might leave, go home and appreciate this encounter with the best hero in all of Japan, and even all of the world. But… but Izuku needed to ask All Might, he needed to ask the ultimate hero himself if he ever stood a chance. He just needed All Might to answer one question!
So, naturally, Izuku grasped onto his knee cap.
The force of the air as it bombarded his face felt like he was being pummeled with the force of a hundred blasts of Kacchan’s quirk, but now was not the time to regret his choices.
“What are you doing?! I really appreciate my fans but this is too much!” All Might shouted, shaking his leg violently trying to dislodge him.
“IF I FALL I’LL DIE!” Izuku fearfully screeched, his fingers desperately grasping at All Might’s hero costume.
“…Good point!” All Might responds, and a second later, All Might begin veering off towards a tall rooftop.
Once All Might lands safely, Izuku truly feels like he has to vomit, but he shoves the feeling down before he looses his chance, his one and only chance.
“All Might I need to ask you something!” Izuku yelled.
“Well alright, you’ve already done this much to ask me young citizen! Just make it quick so I can deliver this villain to the rightful hands of the police!”
Izuku steadied himself, taking a deep breath, his skin feeling like it was crawling with fire ants and his blood thumping through his veins like the banging of a bass drum. He just needed to spit the words out, to rip the band-aid off just as his mother told him to do when he was younger. He could do it! He could look All Might in the eyes and say-
“Do you think someone like me, someone who’s quirkless could become a hero?”
The air around him felt like static electricity after he uttered those words from his lips, charged with a feeling of something he couldn’t quite place. He tried to study All Might’s reaction, he had what looked like a little bit of blood emerging from the corner of his lips, but his eyes seemed to pay no mind to if there was something actually going on, he just looked completely lost in whatever answer he was going to give to Izuku.
Maybe he shouldn’t have asked his hero something so intense. He should have just gone home, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Deku. He probably made All Might feel awkward, which was absolutely not the first impression he wanted to make on his all-time favorite hero. He probably made him feel so uncomfortable, and even if Izuku became a hero he would be blacklisted from any hero company because All Might would tell everyone how weird of a kid he was and how uncomfortable he made him and then he would never become a hero because All Might would hate him and everyone would hate him even more and he would never become a hero even if he got far enough to be one and –
“No.”
The world stopped, the once electrified air of anticipation fell to be frozen, forever stilted now that, that All Might gave his honest answer.
“A quirkless person cannot be a hero, it’s true, I’m sorry. Without a quirk you would only hold other heroes back, you wouldn’t be able to handle facing off against villains. I’m sorry, but no, you cannot be a hero.”
Izuku felt fractured, like his lungs were always in-between a breath, like the world was stilted and nothing made sense besides the fact that he was here, on this random rooftop, and not even feeling like he was alive.
Izuku just stood there, for what felt like hours, and when he finally felt himself snap out of whatever dissociative state he was in, he realized that All Might was gone.
It was just him.
On a random rooftop.
He had no one to go back to, his mother left him two years ago to find his dad in America because she could no longer be burdened with taking care of her quirkless son, who was only ever a burden to her.
His home was falling apart, he moved all the things he could to a random abandoned building near the area of Musutafu where he and his mother lived, that way nobody would notice (nobody would care to anyways).
He had no friends, any that he would have left him the moment when he realized he would be nothing but a worthless Deku. And Kacchan, Kacchan was no longer his friend, he hadn’t been for a long, long time.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
He had no one who would care, no one who would miss him, if anything he would just make everyone’s lives better if he just… jumped.
You cannot be a hero.
A quirkless person cannot be a hero.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry Izuku.
Mom, that was never what I needed, I never needed you to say you were sorry, I never needed you to feel bad for me or pity me. I just needed you to believe in me, to stay with me.
Take a swan dive off the roof.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
He had no future, no people, nothing, nothing, nothing to make him stay.
Nothing to make him stop.
Maybe he would pray for a quirk in his next life, or maybe he would pray to not have a next life at all.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
He already had scars, it wasn’t like he had not thought about this before.
Izuku climbed over the railing keeping him from the edge.
He left his bright red shoes on the roof with his burnt bag and his sopping notebook.
He didn’t want to have anything with him, he lived a life ignored and alone, and he would die a death ignored and alone.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Izuku peered downwards, the moment he hit the ground there was no chance of survival, no chance of returning back to this worthless life.
He could rest, he could be happy.
Goodbye, mom, Kacchan. I’m done.
Izuku put one foot off, and let the air encapsulate him in its dearest hug.
Izuku was holding onto the railing of the building, readying himself to climb over it and welcome the sweet relief brought about by the ledge.
Wait.
No.
No no no no no no no no no.
NO NO NO NO NO!
I’M DONE!
I’M DONE!
LET ME DIE!
Izuku rushed over the railing, practically flinging himself off the ledge with his backpack, his shoes, everything.
It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, I just need to die!
Izuku was close to the top of the railing.
Izuku was falling off the ledge.
LET ME DIE
Izuku was falling off.
PLEASE
Izuku was falling.
WHY
Izuku-
WHY CAN’T I DIE
Izuku Midoriya, fifteen years old, threw himself off of the ledge of a building six times that day.