Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He stands trembling, shielding the crying boy with his body from the three boys in front of them. “That’s mean Ka-chan. Can’t you see he’s crying? If you keep going i-i-I’ll never forgive you!”

“Even though you’re quirkless,” Bakugo Katsuki; a tough, cool looking child with a flashy quirk, the ideal person to become a hero; slammed his fist into his open palm, creating an explosion with the force. “you’re pretending to be a hero, Deku?”

The three boys charge him and it ends much the same as it always does. Stupid, worthless, quirkless Deku on the ground, beaten and burned, the victors happily marching away, Ka-chan leading the pack. No one comes to save him, the kid he stood up for had long ran away. This is the reality the beaten boy learned about society at the young age of four when out of every single child, he is the odd one out.

All men are not created equal.

Depending on the person’s genetics and the type of quirk they inherit, a person could be born with their quirk or it will develop by the time they turn four years old. Quirks are inherited hereditarily and a child will either inherit the father's Quirk, the mother’s Quirk, a fusion of the two, or a mutation will occur. By chance, Izuku managed to get none of these. A seven percent chance, how lucky. Two joints in his little toe determined that he will be plain in every way and pitied or ostracized by his peers.

When they were younger it was fine. Ka-chan was outgoing and let him play with the group; though he did tease Izuku quite a bit and the other boys started doing it too… Then Ka-chan’s quirk manifested and Izuku became too worthless to play with, but better to beat up. At fourteen the young green haired boy had enough burn scars as evidence that Ka-chan was no longer his friend. Izuku had even switched to using Katsuki when he was around the blond. Not that it helped. As the full name seemed to exceedingly piss off the other boy as much as the nickname did. For the most part he was left alone during their high school years. Katsuki has been there every step of the way, even if it was just a shadow.

Stupid, worthless, quirkless, Deku.

Izuku thought he had reached the turning point in his life. High school being almost over and colleges asking him to apply, his dream almost in reach. When it was announced that Izuku applied and was accepted to U.A., the same hero university as Katsuki, something in the blond snapped.

His stuff thrown out the window, burns littered in with the freckles on the side of his face, hair singed, and some parting words. ‘If you want to be a hero that badly, there’s a quick way to do it. Believe that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a last chance dive off the roof!’

Today marks the day. Izuku can’t take it anymore. So here he is, on top of Aldera High, the sun setting in the distance making the sky beautiful oranges and pinks. To be honest, it is a pretty good day to die. The weather’s nice, the school’s quiet except for a few after school clubs, no far off sounds of sirens from police cars or heroes fighting. A cool breeze rustles his hair as he looks over the edge of the building. Unlike intercity schools further in Musutafu, this one didn’t have a three meter tall fence to keep students from the edge. Just a bar about waist high. Carefully, Izuku slips around the bar, shrugs off his backpack, and holds it over the drop. Taking a deep breath he lets go, counting how long it took for the bag to hit the ground.

Barely two seconds.

He’s fifteen meters up, no time to angle himself head first during the fall, he will have to put effort into how he fell rather than just taking a step off the side. Last time he checked he weighs roughly 58kg. So if he were to dive off head first then his body weight should break his neck on impact, or at the very least crack his skull open. Izuku lets out a shaky breath. This is it. His heart thumps painfully in his chest as he shifts his toes over the open air.

Green eyes slip shut and the boy plummets downwards.

There are lights flashing before his tired eyes, muffled voices swimming in and out. Izuku’s whole body hurts, throbbing with dull pain. Blairily, he blinks to clear the blur in his head, realization slowly dawning on him. He’s still in his school’s uniform, his jacket nowhere to be found but his undershirt’s sleeve is rolled up enough to expose his inner elbow. An IV dripping fluids directly into his vein, a beeping monitor behind his head.

HIS HEAD!

Hands flying up, his fingers racing through green locks, not finding any damage. Why isn’t his skull on school grounds doing an impersonation of a cracked open watermelon right now? The heart motor picked up a bit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Katsuki would make him suffer even more for screwing up a suicide, he could hear it in his head now.

‘Stupid Deku can’t even kill himself right, and here I thought that would be the one thing you could manage.’ Katsuki’s voice is dark and menacing, not even sparing Izuku in his own thoughts. A cold sweat breaks down his back. What is he going to do? What is he going to tell his m…

His Mom.

Blood freezing, the teenager’s eyes go wide with panic. He never considered his Mom and what would happen to her. Oh God what will she think!? Breath coming in short painful bursts, Izuku distantly thinks he’s hyperventilating. Fingers curling painfully in his hair, the heart monitor’s beeping becoming more insistent. He can’t let her see him, he can’t face her right now, she’ll be so heart broken. Probably ask him why. Why would he do this to himself? Izuku can’t unload years of pain and fear onto her. It wouldn’t be fair to hurt her more with the secrets he’s been keeping.

The beeping is getting louder, ringing his ears, filling up his brain with its unbearable noise, making it hard to think. With a wild cry, he whirls around and punches it. Glass shattering and slicing up his hand as he pulls his fist back. Without thinking he rips off the wires and tubing connecting him to the machines and runs to the door. He grips the handle about to pull it open when shouts come from the hallway. Eyes darting around for an alternative he spots a chair by the bedside and a fire escape next to the window. Snagging the chair, Izuku jams it under the door handle and hurries for the window. Feet pounding the metal stairs by the time the door burst open.

His body is on fire as he pushes himself to keep running down the lamp lit streets; pain lacing up his legs and air sandpapery in his lungs. On the outskirts of town, he finally comes to a stop. The lamps are spaced out further and there’s more trees. Squatting down on the side of the road, Izuku hunches over himself, head between his knees as he tries to not vomit. After a moment of dry heaving, he lets out a gross sob. What is he going to do?

WHY!?

… why is he like this?

He can’t go back, not after this, and he can’t go home. Inko’s face pinched in misery flashes in his mind’s eye and Izuku wails harder. Wails became hiccups, and hiccups became sniffles, and eventually he wipes the tears and snot off his face and stands. Walking blindly to wherever his feet take him.

He’s in an unfamiliar area that looks worse for wear; there’s potholes in the road, overgrown weeds in the sidewalk, and the building ahead is partly collapsed and dark. Wait… he recognizes that building, it’s the allegedly cursed Musutafu apartments a ways North of where he lived. Built back before villain activity reached its all time high and kept getting smashed, burned down, torn open, etcetera due to hero/villain fights. Other contractors refused to build near the site and the owner of the complex changed five times when they realized there was no way to profit off this space. Izuku remembers hearing the place had been rebuilt so many times that the last owner refused to fix it. Oddly enough, when the owner left it run down nothing else bad happened.

Cautiously striding up to the abandoned building, the teenager gives it a scrutiny. Six apartments, technically five. The left top side of the building is caved in but the right side where the stairs are is still intact. He needs a place to hide after his earlier stunt. The police are most likely searching for him and the amber alert would have been sent out by now. Giving each intact doorknob a jiggle, he sighs when none of them budge. Standing dejectedly at the broken entry way of the top left apartment, he figures a broken roof over his head is better than no roof at all.

Stepping over the rubble, Izuku creeps forward to find a safe spot to rest. Carefully testing each step to see if the floor would creak concerningly or crumble under his weight. The kitchen, bedroom, and living room are all open to the elements, but the bathroom has some solid roofing left. Brushing away some chunks of tile and leaves, Izuku curls up in the corner of the shower.

He tries to keep it bottled up, but the day’s events play on repeat in his head. Flopping on his side the teen crushes himself tighter and quietly cries himself to sleep.

Waking up sore all over, Izuku goes to roll over and look to his All Might poster for some encouragement to start the day, but his face smacks into a wall. Green eyes pop open and come face to face with the chipped tile of the abandoned apartment he huddled in for the night. Oh… right. He abandoned his life and can’t show his face ever again. Sitting up, the green haired teen stretches till his back gives a satisfying pop. He’ll need a plan of action if he’s going to survive this way. Cupping his chin, he taps on his bottom lip, small twinges of pain lacing through his cut up fingers as he moves them. Going back or getting caught means being subjected to the shame and ridicule of his peers, and the bitter disappointment from his Mom.

Logically his first step should be assuming a new identity… or trying again.

His stomach lurches.

Even with his eyes closed it was terrifying to fall like that. Attempting to take his life with other methods seems too scary now. That marks that option off the list. No trying again, he’s going to live.

Mumbling out loud, he stands to pace the length of the rubble littered room. Assuming a new identity will circumvent him from facing the consequences of his actions; i.e. ruthless ridicule, more death threats, disgust, and worst of all pity. Pity for the poor, depressed, quirkless boy.

Life on the run would be far more merciful. But to do so he’ll need clothes, water, food, and possibly better housing; in that order. Most likely his face will be released on the news and being the only quirkless resident in his area, most people know him. An infamous attraction for them to gawk at. Makeup will be a necessity to hide his freckles. Unwittingly in his pacing, the young man stepped on a thin piece of plaster hiding a pit in the floor. The plaster crumbled and he fell through with a shriek.

Pain explodes through his side and arm as he collides with the floor awkwardly, the young man hissed through his teeth as he inspected the tender area. Nothing feels broken. Gingerly wiggling the sore arm and pressing on protesting ribs, Izuku cringed at the little twinges of discomfort. There’s no burning agony so that’s a plus. Taking in his new surroundings the greenet notes that he fell into the apartment below. Wandering the new space, he makes note of the pristine condition that the mangled outside doesn’t suggest. With nothing else better to do with his day Izuku rummages through the previous occupants’ leftover belongings.

A few minutes later he’s sitting happily at the dining room/ kitchen table eating handfuls of dry cereal and sipping on a cold glass of water. His luck paid off by leading him to this gold mine. The old building is updated enough to be on the city’s free water and electricity grid; he doesn’t have his phone so he can’t check if there’s universal wifi either. Not that the free wifi is great, but spotty access to the internet is better than none. Stuffing another handful of sugary cereal into his mouth his eyes rove over the items laid out on the table. Cataloging his findings.

Shelf stable food, baggy but usable clothes, a wall clock that needed batteries, a handful of toiletries, a futon with no blankets, and as it turns out, keys to the other apartments! If Izuku had to guess, he’d say this is the last landlord’s home. What it looks like is that after the most recent damage, the landlord kicked out the other tenants, grabbed their immediate personal effects, and then got as far away from here as possible.

With the keys Izuku can rummage for more useful things left behind in the other apartments. Draining his glass of water with a hum, Izuku’s brow furrowed. This place has everything anyone would need, how has it remained so untouched before him? Perhaps the cursed rumors and the numerous heroes fighting crime have kept the building safe? No matter, it’s perfect for his needs and took care of shelter, water, clothes, and food until he ran out. Humming again, he refills his glass under the sink tap, brain working furiously on a game plan. He has food here, but not for long. To get food he’ll need to steal (which he’d rather not) or buy it. Buying food requires money, but how’s he going to earn it? If he tries asking for a job somebody will recognize him and turn him in. Stomach clenching, a nauseous lump of worry works his way up his throat. His Mom must be so worried.

He can’t go back, he can’t face them, can’t face her. He might not survive a second time.

Hours later the green eyed teen picked the other apartments clean and claimed the bottom middle one as his own. It looked the least lived in and didn’t make him feel as if he’s squatting in someone’s personal space. Izuku lucked out again when he scavenged the top right apartment. It must have belonged to roommates or just one very up-on-the-fashion-trend woman. There were plenty of cosmetics roughly his skin tone that he can use to alter his features. Which would be useful if only he knew how to use makeup.

Darkened blues and purples bruised the sky by the time he chanced going out. Dressed in his new baggy clothes, disposable mask, and a frankly girly hoodie, he braves the outside world. He tries not to turn away when people stare at the hoodie. It’s fine, it’s just very eye-catching, they’re not looking at his face. And the hoodie is very attention drawing. Bright cyan blue with a smiling green bunny on the front, pink zippers on the pockets, all neon. Bunny ears droop from either side of the hood to top it off. The hood itself is strange, it had two holes in the top and button flaps in the front. Izuku considered that someone with horns made the adjustments so they could actually wear the hood. Odd clothes aside…

Curiosity is gnawing at his insides. He needs to know what’s being said about yesterday. How detrimental is the search for him? How active are the police? How scared is his mom? The walk towards the city dragged on. He doesn’t have anything to check the time, but Izuku feels that five or ten minutes must have passed before the buildings started to get closer and taller. Handfuls of people don’t pay him any mind as he strolls by. This part of Musutafu city is unfamiliar to him, but it doesn’t take long to find a small electronics store with TVs filling the window and a newspaper rack out front. The front page is covered by a large picture of Mount Lady’s with a blurb of her debut. Second page is a smaller photo of All Might and the sludge villain he captured. Flipping to the back, right after the obituaries, reveals a black and white school picture of him.

High school student from Aldera High. Alegilly attempted suicide but rescued in the nick of time by a fellow student who can transform into a gelatinous mass; breaking Midoriya’s fall. Unfortunately, the impact still knocked Midoriya unconscious. The young man was rushed to Musutafu Hospital but disaster struck again as Midoriya was kidnapped out of his hospital room. “We only left the room for a minute. He was unconscious and on pain relievers for the deep bruises, there is no way he could have left by himself” -nurse from Musutafu Hospital. No perpetrator was seen leaving the hospital and the police and heroes are without leads. If you see Midoriya Izuku, contact the authorities immediately.

Folding the newspaper carefully with shaking hands, Izuku puts it back on the stack and adjusts the paper mask over his nose. Kidnapped… couldn’t have possibly left by himself. Heroes and police without leads. It’s- it’s almost sad that no-body believed that stupid, worthless, quirkless Deku would run away by choice.

It could play into his favor. Kidnapped victims don’t usually walk around by themselves. People won’t look twice at him since there’s no shady figure directing him where to go. Stomach gurgling, Izuku blushes under the mask at the noise reminding him he didn’t eat before he left. Money, he just needs a few yen to get a hot meal.

Staring at the flashing colors of the TV screens, Izuku pondered where he could find a bit of pocket change. Then it hit him, people are always dropping coins at ATMs and vending machines at the train station! The greenet quickly finds a bus stop and peers at the map; smiling under his mask when he sees he’s only a few blocks from the nearest station.

He got a few strange looks from crawling around the vending machines, but a quick mumble of ‘dropped my change’ had people helping him look or flat out giving him a few hundred yen. Izuku repeats this at two other stations, his paper mask smudged with dirt at the sides of his face from pressing it to the ground. After getting on his knees for the umpteenth time the green eyed teen wishes he had his mom’s quirk so he could pull the coins out from under the ATMs and vending machines with a wave of his hand.

Sitting on the station’s bench the greenet counts out his findings. ¥3,627. Let’s see… he has to eat at least twice a day to keep himself from slowly starving. If he plans it out right, he can get this to last him three weeks or more. That is, if he uses the leftover food at the apartments wisely. Learning how to cobble together a meal from scraps will be a necessary skill. On the bright side, Izuku has the relieving luxury of eating fresh, hot food once a day. Hurrying back in the direction of the electronics store, he hops into the convent store across the street from it. The greenet goes straight for the karaage, mouth watering at the smell of hot fried chicken; his enthusiasm falls short when he sees the price. ¥500 is steep for a single stick of karaage. Stomach growling in disappointment as he wanders through the refrigerated section and settles for two different flavored onigiri. He pauses on his way to the register and nabs a two pack of batteries for the wall clock in his new home. The cashier rings him up and he counts out ¥311, getting rid of most of the smaller coins so he has less change to keep track of.

Groaning as he bites into the onigiri, Izuku chews as slowly as he dares to savor each bite. Walking down the lamp lit sidewalks, he deliberates on what he’s going to do with his life. He has no papers, ID, or Highschool diploma. He has minimal job experience since not many people would hire a quirkless for a summer job, and he’s currently hiding from the authorities. His original dream was becoming a hero, helping people in need and being the reason they smiled, just like All Might. That dream cracked a bit as reality bore down on his fragile childhood innocence, but he still wants to continue his education and somehow become a hero.

Swallowing down the last of his onigiri bitterly, Izuku dimly thinks he’ll need to reconsider the hero bit. Education wise, he’ll never graduate Highschool, but he was taking advanced courses and half way through the year before he jumped. Can’t get into college but he can use the library’s resources. Although, he’ll need ID and proof of address to check out any books, but he can read them and take notes while in the building.

Meaning he’ll need notebooks and the money to buy them. He had good luck finding a decent haul of cash, but it took hours and going to three different train stations to get it. People will start to catch on if he does it too often and the other stations are too far to walk there and back within a day. Not to mention his increased exposure to people who might recognize him.

Pulling out the second onigiri, he takes a bite out of the soft rice and salmon filling, crumpling the wrapper and stuffing into his pocket. Suddenly he’s jerked into an alleyway. Snack splatting to the ground, a furred hand clamped over his mouth, and a knife under his chin. The young man struggles against his attacker, trying to pull the furry hand away from his mouth to scream as he’s dragged deeper into the dark. He’s slammed to the concrete wall of the alley, dark spots cloud his vision from the bang to his skull and lack of oxygen.

“Hold still,” Cold metal of the blade presses into the delicate skin of his neck and Izuku freezes. “Jiro wants your wallet, try anything funny and Jiro will…”

His attacker wiggles the blade under his chin, scraping the creases in his neck ever so slightly, to draw out a sting. There’s no guarantee that this guy is going to let him go after taking what he wants. He needs to escape! He needs to get away! Fueled by adrenaline, Izuku’ body reacts without his permission. Sinking his teeth into the guy’s furry fingers and stomping his foot down hard onto his attacker’s toes. The guy reels back, stumbling into the opposite alley wall, letting his knife and Izuku go. The greenet darts for the weapon and holds it in one hand with his other reaches back to touch the wall. Grounding himself with the cool cement, because if he doesn’t his legs will give out. The man has a dog head, scarred snout and viscous teeth bared in a snarl. His fur is short and black with brown around his muzzle, like a doberman. The inhuman growl, and reflective eyes of the dog man scare Izuku so badly that he thinks the knife will rattle right out of his hands from shaking so hard.

With a snap of saliva dripping jowls, the dog man lungs at him. Shrieking, Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, hand thrusting the knife forward as a barrier between him and his attacker.

High pitch whining makes Izuku open his eyes. His legs had crumpled and he’d slipped down to the ground, the dog man hunched over him. Izuku’s arm leads up to the guy’s midsection, hand white knuckling the knife that’s lodged into the man’s stomach. The dog man whines in agony before vomiting up blood in the greenet’s lap, then slumps lifelessly on top of the teen. Izuku can’t bring himself to scream, his mouth is open, he can feel the sound building in his chest, but nothing’s coming out. Flailing under the heavy body, he shoves the dog man off of him hysterically.

He claws at the wall, scrambling to his feet when a glint blinds him out of the corner of his eye. The knife reflecting light from the mouth of the alley. Finger prints, evidence, they’ll know, they’ll know they’ll know they’ll know! Grabbing the handle, Izuku rips it from the dog man, shuttering at the wet sound and shoves the bloody blade into his hoodie’s pocket and runs.