Chapter Text
Not all men are created equal.
It was a hard lesson to learn for Izuku Midoriya. At age four, a doctor told him that he had an extra toe joint and therefore couldn’t manifest a quirk. It was devastating.
His mom took him home from the hospital and he went straight to the computer to watch his favorite All Might video. And while tears streamed down his cheeks, he asked:
“Can I still be a hero, even without a quirk?”
His mother broke down sobbing and hugged him. And she said the words he would never forget his whole life:
“I’m sorry.”
He started to shake, but his mom wasn’t finished:
“I’m sorry that the world will be cruel. I’m sorry for every stone people will throw in your way. But if you want to be a hero, Izuku, then you will be one. And I will be there to help you.”
The small boy hugged his mother back, now full-on sobbing.
And he knew, no matter how much he adored All Might, the greatest hero in his life will always be his mom.
As it turned out, Inko Midory was right with what she feared that day: Society was not kind to it’s quirkless members and her son – her pure, kindhearted, selfless son with a smile that could rival the sun itself – experienced it first hand.
All his friends, even Kacchan, turned on him. They started to call him “Deku”, “useless” and threw slurs at him. Then they started pushing him on the playground. When Izuku started to go to school, it got even worse. A lot worse, actually. She had to replace tons of pens and notebooks that were destroyed or simply vanished. Her son would come home with torn cloths, scrapes, bruises and burns. Time and time again, Inko would try to contact the principal and point out the obvious problems at his school. Because how could it be that her son came home hurt almost every day? How could it be that he told her about the harassing he had to endure from other students and the teachers just ignored it? How could it be that her little angle had detention at least two to three times a week for reasons like picking fights with his classmates or disrupting the lessons, when the boy himself swore that he didn’t do any of it?
However, the only appointment she ever got was one where the principal would inform her of all of her son’s misconducts and his below-average grades and they would have to “take harder measures if this disruptive behavior didn’t change for the better”.
After that, she even tried to go to the police when Izuku came home especially bruised, but they only told her that due to Izuku’s natural constitution, this was to be expected and no reason for an investigation.
Inko tried what she could, but unfortunately, it wasn’t much. She couldn’t do anything against the school or Izuku’s teachers, so she resigned herself to console her distressed child when he came home. She would take pictures of his wounds and then tend to them with all the care a mother could muster. She even bought herself a handbook on first aid to be prepared for all eventualities. Then she would wrap her son in a soft blanket and make him hot cacao he could drink while they watched the hero news together and his tears slowly dried.
Oh, how much Inko wished she could do more!
Maybe then things would have gone differently.
---------------
It was a cold and rainy Thursday in November. Izuku was ten years old and attended Aldera Middle School.
His morning had actually been okay, he made sure to hide until it was almost time for homeroom and he slipped into his seat just before the bell rang. Early enough to not be late (and therefore not be given detention) and late enough to not leave his bullies (especially Kacchan) enough time to harass him before the lesson started. In other words: Perfect timing.
As always, he ate lunch in a mostly abandoned toilet at the far end of the building, as far away from other students as possible. It was not really comfortable, but definitely better than being shoved around in the cafeteria. However, he returned to the classroom with a lump in his stomach.
There were two reasons why Izuku didn’t like Thursdays:
First, it was the only day of the week where his mom wasn’t home in the evening. She worked in the financial department of a middle-sized company that sold hero merch. The good thing about it was that she had access to hero merch a lot cheaper than in the store. The downside was that they had a lot of partners in different countries and thus sometimes had meetings in the evening due to time difference. Every Thursday they had a video conference with a partner in America and since they needed a representative of the financial department to attend and Inko was quite fluent in Englisch (she had learned it together with Izuku when he had insisted he needed it to watch more videos on hero tube and some of them were not in Japanese), once a week she had to work late.
It broke her heart to leave Izuku alone for a whole evening when he was still so little, but they really needed the extra money she got for these meetings. Thus, she made sure to always prepare a good dinner for him to put into the microwave so he could at least eat properly without her.
So, not seeing his mom before he went to bed was definitely the first and bigger reason why Izuku disliked Thursdays. The other reason, however, was what awaited him in the afternoon: Physical Education.
Izuku was by nature not really athletic, which was as such bad enough. However, the real problem was rather that his teachers, who were already turning a blind eye whenever he was mocked and belittled in class, were even more lenient during PE.
And his classmates were really leaping at the chance to use their quirks on a victim that couldn’t fight back. All for educational purposes, of course. They had to somehow learn how to use their quirks correctly, didn’t they? And of course, since Izuku didn’t have a quirk to test out, he should do his best to help his peers. That was completely natural.
At least that was what his homeroom and PE-Teacher, Kanechiro-sensei, had told him.
Kacchan had said that as target Deku was at least somewhat useful.
And wasn’t it sad that this had sparked a little bit of joy in Izuku’s chest to not be completely worthless?
Today, they made an obstacle run. They set up a course through the gym, starting in a corner. They had to do a sprint over the long side of the hall, then climb up a rope and ring a bell hanging up there. After climbing back down, they had to balance over the small underside of a bench until they reached the corner diagonally across from the start. There they had to do a number of push-ups. Afterwards, following the second long side of the hall, they had to duck under a high bar and then jump over some gymnastic boxes of different heights. And finally, they had to run a slalom back to the start.
After they set the whole parkour up, they gathered in the middle of the gym for instructions. Kacchan and his friends laughed and fooled around, occasional explosions popping in the angry blond’s hands. Kanechiro-sensei blew a whistle to gain their attention and it took some minutes until everybody was quiet.
“Alright, obviously, we’re going to do an obstacle run today. You will start in groups of four. You’re classmates are going to stop your time and I will supervise to make sure that you do all obstacles correctly. Try to be as fast as possible, you’re time will be translated into a grade. So give your best! I’ll call up your names when it’s your turn. First off are…”
He continued to call out the names of four students, then handed four stopwatches over to their friends. Izuku’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t have any friends that would take the watch for him, but a whole lot of bullies who’d love to stop his time and probably would “forget” to hit the stop button once he’s done.
Well, what’s one more ruined grade?, the green-haired boy thought with resignation. It’s not like my report would be good, anyway.
The first ones started at the whistle of the PE-teacher and sprinted through the obstacle course as fast as they could. The rest of the class sat in the middle of the gym and cheered for their friends and made fun of a very quite girl with light blue hair (one of the few other students in Izuku’s class that were also bullied regularly by their peers, however, by far not as much as Izuku himself), when she stumbled and fell from the turned over bench.
“Asano, back to the beginning of the bench! Do this once again!”, Kanechiro-sensei called out in a bored voice. The girl blushed, lowered her eyes and did as she was told, while the laughter of their classmates still droned in their ears.
Bakugou started in the second group. As soon as the teachers whistle sounded, he fired his quirk from both hands to get a head start. The teacher didn’t say anything about the public quirk use, not that Izuku expected him to. But he had to admit: Even without a quirk, Kacchan was pretty fast. He climbed up the rope within seconds, nearly sprinted over the bench without even having to hold out his arms to stabilize himself and jumped over the gymnastic boxes without trouble.
Kacchan really is amazing! He will be such a great hero! Of course he finishes with best time!
But his fanboying didn’t last long. Kanechiro-sensei called his name to go in the third round, together with Fukunaga, one of Bakugou’s followers that could extend his fingers and nails, a girl that could produce flames around her hands and a boy who could extend his neck up to two meters.
The stopwatch meant for Izuku was handed to Tsubasa, Kacchan’s winged lackey.
And there goes all my hope to get an at least somewhat fair time…
However, Izuku would not be Izuku if he just gave up in face of the smallest hardship. No, he would power through and do his best, like a real hero. And what was the motto of his dream school? Plus Ultra!
Kanechiro-sensei blew his whistle and the three boys and the girl started to run. Izuku made it through the parkour pretty fast… until he reached the gymnastic boxes. He was just one step ahead of Fukunaga when the other boy seemed to have enough of seeing Izuku’s back.
“Deku!”, he shouted, “You don’t think you’re better than me, do you?! You stupid loser!”
With a dirty laugh, he extended the fingers and nails of his right hand and swiped at the greenet’s back. He hit him in the side while Izuku attempted to jump over a box and threw him off course. Izuku fell sideways, hit the ground hard and slithered further towards the waiting rest of the class.
He whimpered quietly. That hurt.
Belatedly, he noticed that there was a person right next to him. Apparently, his classmates didn’t sit in the middle of the gym, but closer to the side where the gymnastic boxes were. That was the reason why Izuku nearly fell into one of them.
Unfortunately, this one was Kacchan.
And of course that was enough for Bakugou to explode – both figuratively and literally.
“You stupid fucking Deku, what do you think you’re doing? Jumping into me? Are you to fucking stupid to even run straight, you shitty, useless nerd?!”
His hands popped with explosions and Izuku hurriedly scrambled to get up, all the while stuttering out apologies.
“Shut the fuck up, Deku!”, the explosive blond screamed in anger and punched Izuku in the stomach. The green-haired boy keeled over, gasping for air. Tears gathered in his eyes and silently flowed down his cheeks while he tried in vain to catch his breath.
“You pathetic fucking waste of space!”, the larger boy spat. He took a swing with his right hand and aimed a quirk-enforced punch at Izuku’s torso. The explosion in his palm made his movement too fast to track with the eyes and the impact of the punch was far greater than it usually would have been. The smaller boy was hurled back by the sheer force of the attack and he flew back over until his head hit the gymnastic box behind him with a sickening crack.
His vision flickered for a moment and the walls started to spin. Groaning, he tried to stand up but his limbs felt jittery. Still, he managed to stand on wobbly legs.
“Midoriya!”, Kanechiro-sensei called out. “Stop annoying your classmates and get back on the track!”
“B-But I re-really don’t feel well, Sensei”, he answered without thinking and flinched hard immediately.
Never contradict a teacher. Never!
“This was not a question, Midoriya. Do you think you can slack of just because you’re weak? If you wouldn’t oppose Bakugou all the time, he wouldn’t have to defend himself! So stop this act of the oh so hurt patient and keep going! Or do you want me to give you detention for refusal to work?!"
“N-No, Sensei.”
“So keep running, stupid brat!”
“Y-Yes, Sensei”, he stammered and stumbled back towards the last two gymnastic boxes. He more crawled than climbed over them and turned the corner to do the final slalom. His head hurt and he felt dizzy and nauseous. His vision swam with darkness at the edges. His feet didn’t really follow his brains commands when he tumbled for a second.
Gods, he was really not feeling well at all. But he couldn’t afford to enrage their teacher and most of all Kacchan even more. He had to finish the obstacle race and.. and…
Bile rose up his throat and he swallowed it back. Once, twice. But the third time, he lost his composure.
He vomited on the gym floor.
“Ah, gross!”
“Look at that freak!”
“So disgusting!”
“Shitty Deku!”
“Pathetic!”
He couldn’t concentrate on them. He stood bent over, retched violently and tried to take in a breath, until somebody grabbed his arm with enough force to probably leave bruises and turned him around.
“What the heck, Midoriya! That’s disgusting!”
The boy just stared up at the person before him – which happened to be his PE teacher – and didn’t get a single word out. He was so embarrassed, but even more he was scared of what was now going to happen to him. Whatever it was, it would not be something good.
“You’ll clean this mess up immediately”, his teacher spat, “and after class you will come into my office for your detention for dirtying school property! I’ve never experienced something so gross in my lessons ever.”
He threw another disgusted glare to the green-haired boy, before he released his arm with a slight push that sent the teen stumbling back a few wobbly steps. The boy ducked his head, hunched up his shoulders and held his gaze firmly on the ground while he staggered out of the gym to get some cleaning supplies as fast as possible.
Tears still dripped down his freckled cheeks when he arrived at the janitors office.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Izuku felt strangely out of himself, as if he would watch his body move from an outside perspective. It was nothing new to him, he sometimes felt that way when his day had been especially hard or the humiliation and the bullying was just too much to stomach. On the one hand this state of separation scared him, but on the other hand, it was almost nice. The taunting, the laughing and the pain didn’t reach him. It was no longer him that was ridiculed, but somebody else, just some green-haired boy with freckled cheeks and glassy eyes who had nothing to do with himself. It made everything easier to bear.
He knew somewhere deep down that it was not normal, probably some kind of trauma-reaction, but he didn’t want to find out what exactly this state was. If he googled it and he read about dissociation he would also read about how he should seek help and how it was not healthy to indulge in this self-lost state and that he should do something against it. However, he didn’t want to lose this refuge.
So passed his afternoon and when he came to, he was back at his home. There was a new rip in the collar of his uniform jacket and a burn on his shoulder that wasn’t there when he changed for PE. He felt completely exhausted and was still dizzy and his head and his side where Kacchan had hit him still hurt.
All in all, it was just the usual, nothing worse than what he was used to.
Since it was Thursday and his mom had to work late, he was alone at home. So he went to his room, threw his backpack under his desk and pulled his first-aid kit from the middle drawer. Then he made his way to the bathroom to tend to his injuries. When he took of his shirt, he saw deep purple bruising along his side and when he touched it, it hurt.
Sighing, he stepped into the shower and let the warm water melt the tension in his shoulders, even though he had to keep his head bowed so the hammering of the water droplets wouldn’t aggravate the pounding in his head. After he finished his shower, he returned in front of the mirror and dried his body and hair with light touches. Then he carefully applied some bruising cream on the spot and then some burn cream onto his shoulder. Fortunately, all his injuries were in places that were easy to hide from his mother tomorrow.
He felt a whole lot better now that he was clean and dressed in his pajamas, but since he threw up all his lunch in the gym his stomach loudly protested and begged for food. Time to have some dinner.
He couldn’t help but smile a little when he saw that his mom had prepared his favorite meal – Katsudon – for him. She always made sure that he had some nice food when he returned home on Thursdays to make up for her absence. And as always, there was a little not stuck to his bowl:
Hey Izu
I hope you had a good day. Please enjoy your food, I wish I could be there to eat with you. But I’ll make sure to say goodnight when I come home, even though you will be sleeping!
I love you!
Mom
Izuku’s smile widened. He knew that his mom always snooped into his room to make sure that he was tucked in and sleeping well when she returned.
Sometimes he was almost overwhelmed by how much she cared about him. When you got beaten and bullied by everyone at school, it was almost a miracle to be able to return home and just feel loved. He was immensely thankful for it.
I really have the best mom ever, he thought while he placed his dinner in the microwave and switched it on. He stared at the turning bowl as if hypnotized and when the machine dinged, he carefully grabbed the steaming bowl and carried it to the coffee table to watch the hero news while eating, just like he did every Thursday.
After he finished his meal, he washed his bowl and returned to the TV to do his homework. It was nothing difficult, so he only needed a little more than half an hour to complete all his tasks. However, it was still long enough to make his headache worse, so he decided to head to bed. He had seen a fight of Best Jeanist in the news where he had used a new attack (well, he said it was new but it really just was a modification of an older move he didn’t use regularly, Izuku’s analytic mind supplied), but he could replenish his notebook entry on the Fibre Hero tomorrow.
He went to brush his teeth and hopped into his bed, snuggling under his All Might-themed blanket. Now there was only one thing left to do before he could close his eyes and hopefully sleep his headache off: He took his mobile phone out of his night stand (mom had gotten him the phone when she started to work late once a week, but he didn’t want to take it to school due to his fear that he bullies could take or destroy it.) He dialed his mothers number and waited while it rang, until he ended up on voice mail like usually.
“Hey mom”, he started. His tongue felt heavy and he made extra sure to speak clearly as to not worry her. If he slurred a little bit, he could always blame it on being sleepy, as long as it was not too much.
“The Katsudon was really great, thank you so much! Today was nothing special, school was okay. Just a day like any other. Oh, but I saw this supercool fight between Best Jeanist and a villain with a soap quirk that made him extremely slippery on the news. Best Jeanist even used a new move!
I hope your day went well, too.
I love you mom! Good night!”
He ended the call and put his phone back in the nightstand. Then he turned of his bedside lamp and curled up on his side.
He fell asleep a few minutes later.
He slept peacefully when his mother checked on him before she went to bed.
He slept peacefully through the night.
He slept peacefully for eternity.
For in the morning, he never woke up.