Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a normal day.
Well, it was, until the end of the day.
They were sitting in class, Aizawa-sensei was beginning a new topic, called Application of Quirks.
Basically, the class was asked to look at a scenario and A) think of the perfect quirk to solve the problem, then B) look at a list of quirks that are on the hypothetical scene, and figure out how to solve the problem with them. Some of the quirks were powerful, flashy quirks perfect for limelight heroes, while others were more…unconventional, like for underground heroics.
Izuku had no problem with it, really! He was all for it, actually, remembering how those heroes at the Sludge Villain scene couldn’t figure out how to use their quirks efficiently, when the idea that Izuku used was inspired by how Kamui Woods used his special move. Kamui Woods, who was on the scene, who was a Pro-Hero, with actual training, but Izuku digresses.
Where was he?
Oh, right, when everything went to shit was when one of the ‘quirks’ on Part B was written as Quirkless.
Now, internally, Izuku is whopping with joy, he’s jumping up, hollering and high fiving everyone in the Musutafu area. Mentally, he’s on I-Island, crying with Melissa about this improvement.
His classmates, however, didn’t have the same ideas.
“Uh…hey, guys,” Kaminari starts it, speaking hesitantly, “is there an error in scenario 5 part B?”
Izuku realises that’s the question with the Quirkless person, and all he can think is…uh oh. A pit forms in his stomach as his classmates make questioning noises.
“What part?” Yaoyorozu questions.
“Part…4,” he says as he points at the question. Izuku sucks in a silent breath, heart rate jumping. That’s…the Quirkless person.
A hush falls over the classroom as everyone finds the ‘error.’
“Huh, maybe there was?” Mina says, tilting her head as she looks at the sheet.
“Why would someone like that be there?” Ojirou asks.
Surprisingly, anger is the first response Izuku has. It’s faint, wisps of clouds that you wouldn’t think could turn into a storm.
‘Like that,’ Izuku thinks bitterly, what a peculiar way to say Quirkless person.
Yaoyorozu hums somewhere behind him, and Izuku picks it up with ease. He stares blankly down at his paper, the word Quirkless screaming up at him. Reflecting his years of torment, of complacent teachers and cruel classmates.
He feels the unease lay thick in the room. Like the idea of a Quirkless person doing anything is insane.
She takes an inquisitive tone in her voice but layered with a gentleness not unlike the one someone would use on a child. “They’re quite fragile, aren’t they? It wouldn’t be right for them to be on the scene at all.”
And ohhhh doesn’t that sentence make Izuku’s rage bubble over, burning hot all over as he pushes down his urge to spread this magma across the classroom.
The babying tone of voice, just teetering on condescending, saying how fragile we are, how we’ll just break if we do anything dangerous.
Pisses Izuku off.
“They shouldn’t be on the scene! It’s our job as heroes to save those weaker than us,” Tenya exclaims, waving his arms robotically.
Implying that Quirkless people are weaker, just because they’re Quirkless… Izuku squints at his desk. Bet Melissa could beat your ass, but go off, I guess.
Behind the surface of rage bubbling through him, an underlying feeling of hurt courses through Izuku. Pumping through his veins like an old friend; holding him close and whispering I told you so’s in his ear.
He thought it couldn’t get worse. Learning that his classmates—family? Yeah, family—who have been through so much together, would despise him before U.A. That they would…they would…
Be just like them. Like his tormenters. Like his teachers. Like everyone that knew he was Quirkless. Like the ones that kicked him, tripped him, stole his stuff, carved their marks on his skin. Like the ones that sneered, cackled, spoke behind his back, that dressed his wounds with bandages made of poison words and silver lies.
It couldn’t get any worse than this.
Of course, Fate has never been kind to Izuku, has it?
“Hah? What’s a freak like that doing on the scene? They’re gonna get themselves killed.”
Izuku gapes at Bakugou, lips curled in thinly covered disgust, eyes boiling over themselves: with tears? With a low-simmering rage? Probably both.
Both directed at Bakugou Katsuki.
Bakugou, the one who had grown up with Izuku.
Bakugou, who knew what people said about Quirkless people; himself being a main offender.
Bakugou, who Izuku thought was getting better, especially after their fight, after he…found out…about One For All…Izuku’s newly gained quirk…
The veil that was covering his anger snapped. Pulled taut, carrying years of abuse, of wounds and scars far beyond healing, piling on top of each other before it became too much.
The fabric’s ripped, torn at the seams. Trust, built ever so carefully, broken beyond repair.
But Izuku will not crumble, will not lie on his back and submit, like he has countless times before.
No, he will bare teeth and claws and fight back.
He shoots out of his chair, the legs screeching against the tile floor as he slams his hands down on the table. The class goes dead silent, and Izuku takes a deep breath.
“How dare you,” he says in a deathly whisper. Then, louder, “How dare you!”
The class stares shocked at the outburst. Probably thinking what’s got the sunshine incarnate shaken up? He never gets angry.
Yeah, fuck that, Izuku thinks, it’s time they learn what this fucked up thought process gets them.
“You call yourself heroes. You call yourself the saviour of the weak, the damned, the hurt and betrayed. Yet this is how you treat fellow humans?”
“They aren’t as evolved as us, though, so are they really human—”
Izuku stares incredulously, open mouthed at Mineta. He points to him. “Now, I don’t have time to begin to unpack how utterly fucked up that thought process is.”
He looks up at the ceiling. Praying to every kami out there that he doesn’t cry. Not now. Not when this bubbling rage is so new, so unexplored. And tears don’t feel right, right now. He doesn’t need pity; he needs them to understand. So, he takes a deep breath in, holds it, then lets it out, keeping whatever else he’s feeling besides rage temped down.
“I just…What about not having a quirk affects a person’s worth? Why does that Quirkless person have less value when, by my calculations, they’re probably the best option for that mission? Are least likely to make mistakes, least likely to break cover, most likely to understand the trauma that the victims went through?”
“But they can’t do that. They don’t have the education and qualifications to handle a situation like that, kero,” Tsu says.
It’s like they’re desperate for Izuku to give this up. Like they’re waiting for him to pull the curtain, to say sike! Haha can’t believe you’d think I’d actually stand for respecting Quirkless people as human beings.
Like they’re pleading for him to leave this alone. To slap a fucking band aid on this gaping wound of a discovery. To sweep this dust into the closet filled to the brim with skeletons.
“N-no, that’s not, in any way, shape or form, how that works.” Izuku feels like he’s talking to Kota when he’s being stubborn about something, except less endearing, and more damaging. “Quirkless people are not a monolith. You’re talking as if they all feel, do, learn, and experience the same thing. While, yes, a lot of Quirkless people don’t—can’t—get that kind of education, it’s because of this kind of discrimination and stereotyping that has led to Quirkless people not being able to get those qualifications.”
Also, the fact that the sheet never said anything about qualifications, or if the quirk user had a hero license. All things considered, they could easily be citizens caught in the crossfire, that a hero has to guide on how to help. Izuku thinks bitterly. And don’t get me started on whether it’s morally right or wrong to leave a situation when you could do something, especially if there’s nobody else that can do anything.
He thinks of Hakai and has to violently tamp down the urge to breakdown. Later, Izuku, breakdown later, no time now.
“But they’re useless to a society where quirks are the centrefold, even with education. They make up, what, 20 percent of the population, with very few in our generation, so…?” Hagakure says.
And Izuku wanted to scream. They were so close, so close, to getting the point of what is wrong in this current society.
Then it’s like they took the point, threw it up in the air with Ochako’s quirk, and smashed it with a baseball bat.
And that’s when Izuku realises, this is a waste of time. They’ve come full circle. He’s rebutted every point made. Brought up every factual statement he could think of. Hell, he’s backed it up with his personal experience! Not that they know that, but still.
They’ve circled back. Back to what this whole argument started with. Back to quotes that Izuku has heard a million times over, they’ve really lost their meaning.
Less evolved. The fact that we don’t know how or why quirks evolved should really erase this entire thing. Are they really less evolved when quirks don’t really have a benefit? At least not at the level of other evolutionary paths. Quirks are so unique to the individual, it’s hard to say if they truly have any evolutionary benefit.
Not as intelligent. Blatant bullshit is all Izuku hears. How does having an explosion quirk make someone more intelligent than someone who doesn’t have an explosion quirk, especially when that Quirkless kid could have been the top of his class, if he wasn’t discriminated against?
There’s always someone with a quirk that can do a quicker job. But quicker doesn’t equal better, does it? Sometimes jobs require meticulous planning and execution. Sometimes said quirk-user can’t get there in time, sometimes a Quirkless person is simply better suited to the job.
They can’t really do anything, can they? It’s not like they contribute to society anyway. Mmmm hard to contribute to society when majority of Quirkless teens die, whether to suicide or hate crimes, before we can contribute.
Quirkless people in this generation only make up less than 1% of the population worldwide. Ignoring the fact that 1% is still a lot of people, census’ lie. Statistics are rigged. Besides, they’re still human.
.
.
.
But that’s the issue, isn’t it? It all boils down to viewing Quirkless people as human.
So, once again, a waste of time. He could, technically, explain all those points to his classmates, explain in great, horrifying detail, how he was treated, teach them basic human decency.
But, God, Izuku is so tired…
And he can’t do anything here, not when they’re so close minded. He needs to find a way out, a way to understand how he didn’t see this happening. Sure, the topic of Quirklessness never came up, but he used to be so good at reading people…
So he watches his classmates, analyses them (like you should have, his mind cruelly whispers to him, that feeling of hurt wrapping around him tighter, tighter, tighter, until it feels like it might suffocate him, you should have, when you first came to this school. Instead you got so caught up in all the heroes and all the quirks, that you forgot about yourself. But, what’s new?) and he sees it. The barely covered disgust, the way they scan over him, as if he’s less than human just for thinking of defending Quirkless people.
Don’t go near him, I heard Quirklessness is contagious!
You’re just the dirt under my shoe, freak.
The way Yaoyorozu, Iida, Sero, some others have that look. That fucking look. Like Quirkless people are made of precious porcelain and can’t do anything by themselves.
Midoriya, sit out of PE today, they’re playing dodgeball and we can’t have you injuring yourself, can we?
Stay behind, will you, Midoriya? The bell had just gone for lunch, and it just so happened to be the day after one of Izuku’s attempts to report the bullying. The principal, and other teachers have decided it’ll be safer for you to stay inside during these breaks, at least until you gain a thick enough skin to deal with some simple rough housing.
Yeah, make that the last time he ever relied on a teacher.
God, nothing he hated more than those people. Well, except those people who are a weird mix of the two.
What a disgusting deku! Can’t do anything by himself.
He swallows, thinking, the tang of iron strong from where he bit his cheek. Nobody does anything. Nobody says anything.
No defence. No sort of rebuttal. Just stubborn refusal to even think that, maybe, just maybe, Quirkless people are, you know, regular people.
Izuku rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he walks towards the classroom door, stuck in his own head. His eyes are brimming with tears. Feels it in the way his throat burns when he swallows. Feels it in the way his eyes burn, and his nose gets clogged.
He keeps his head to the floor. Kami, he feels like he did in middle school. The lessons from Hakai repeat in his head for the first time in years (did they ever really stop?).
Keep your head low, keep your voice lower. But don’t hunch, and don’t whisper or you’ll bring more attention to yourself. Keep yourself unseen by being seen. It’s the only way you’ll survive.
And hearing her voice, the mix of concern (not pity, never pity) and authority washes over him, and he has to bite back a sob.
Multiple pairs of hands grab his shoulders, and all he can think as he tenses is:
Weak
Worthless
Don't apply to U.A., nerd
You're such a deku!
Hands shoving him around, using their quirks to hit punch hurtburnhurtpAINPAIN S C A RS
If you wanna be a hero so badly, here's a quick way to do it.
Pray you'll get a quirk in the next life and take a swan dive off the roof!
But he stays standing tall, keeps the instincts trained (beat) into him close by.
"Deku where are you going?" That was Och—Uraraka. And wow he really doesn't want to be called Deku anymore, does he? Not after he's found out that they would probably call him that in mocking tones if they knew the truth.
Actually...
"Deku-kun!" Te—Iida exclaims. "You can't leave class while it's still in session! That is incredibly unbecoming of a heroics student!"
Izuku turns so fast that he might have whiplash. He doesn't care. The class needs to learn, before it gets an innocent civilian killed.
"No, Iida." Maybe it's cruel that Izuku takes sick satisfaction in the way the class flinches, both at his tone and use of the last name. "You want to know what's really not heroic?"
He sees out of the corner of his eye Oc—Uraraka reach out for him, hears her say "woah! calm down" and One For All roars in Izuku’s veins. A caged lion, snarling and roaring, finally free.
He snaps his head to her, feels the caress of lightning and the thick scent of ozone hit his nose. His eyes harden, and he glares at her, scowling.
Izuku thinks he hears a voice, of someone old and wise by centuries, cheer him on, deep in his core.
Somewhere beneath the fog of unadulterated rage, he knows he probably looks how he did when fighting Muscular, and Overhaul. Can't bring himself to care, really.
Bigotry is as much of a villain as real people, after all.
Look at Stain, Overhaul. Hell, look at Shigaraki, he’s gotten infinitely more dangerous now that he actually has a solid belief besides kill All Might!
“You know what’s not heroic? Having this, frankly, disgusting view on Quirkless people. It baffles me how your opinions of them range from being actual glass to being the scum of the Earth. Probably both at the same time. This false idea you have about Quirkless people is going to get people killed! Has gotten people killed.” He speaks in a hushed tone, but it’s a false sense of calm. Trying to keep his cool when he’s been thrust into the deep end of emotional baggage that he’s kept locked in the furthest parts of his mind.
The eye of the storm, floating out on a calm sea before the hurricane of emotions are going to rip through Izuku. He’s never been this pent up outside of a fight. He doesn’t have an outlet, and as much as he wants to, he knows he can’t feebly punch anyone or anything without serious consequences.
His yelling is probably gonna get him a detention, though.
“Why do you care so much?” Someone asks, the disgust thick in their voice. Izuku can’t be bothered to identify the voice, the feeling of hurt pulling him under. An endless depth of ocean, beckoning him with a sombre siren’s song. But he isn’t safe, not yet.
So, they’re past the point of disguising it, and have now gone down the Maybe If I’m Salty And Rude They’ll Back Down road. Classic.
Izuku steps back, so the door is in front of him. He reaches a hand up and grips the handle. His knuckles have gone bone white, his fingers twitching from the force. He’s gonna get the worst cramps later, but it’s keeping him grounded in the moment. Stopping him from floating somewhere else, from losing his train of thought and drowning.
He sweeps his gaze across the class and utters one sentence he never thought he’d say. Thought he’d buried it deep beneath his core, shrouded in self-esteem issues, internalised quirkism, and a dash of hero complex. Thought he’d take this secret to his grave. Keep up the façade of having a quirk all his life, only to die the way he was born.
Quirkless.
But those experiences shaped him into who he is today. The storms he faced may have rained on him, struck him with lightning a thousand times over, and knocked him down with careless winds. He may have felt ashamed of what—no, who he was, and what he experienced, so much that he hid it.
But he can’t hide it, not anymore. Not when he thinks of the lives that could be saved by revealing this. So, he takes a calming breath, imagine the storm passing over him, leaving a fertile field for growth, and says:
“I was quirkless.”
And as the tension skyrockets in the room, Izuku slams the door shut.