Chapter Text
Chapter one: Why did we get here.
To most of the student population in Aldera Middle School, Izuku Midoriya was just that one stupid little Quirkless boy with too much hope, wanting to be a Hero despite what everybody told him, however, people tended to forget the lost child that arrived to Middle School a year after Midoriya, the reason was simple, that kid avoided people like the plague, always watching, always paying attention, running away at the mere sight of problem and never talking to anyone that got suspicious of his quirk status, coincidently, Quirkless. For Lucien, their encounter didn't have anything special, at least the first time they saw each other, one of them was being beaten to pulp, the other trying to keep a low profile, the first one just getting away from his own classmates, lucky to be fast on his feet.
To be honest, Lucien did´t think about the green haired boy too much, considering they were part the same minority, people would think they would stick together, but no, in Japan, Quirkless kids were rare, not treated like actual persons, so while having an unsaid agreement to not bother each other and share some occasional bandage they wouldn't talk to one another, too risky, too dangerous, unsafe in all kind of ways. Lucien wouldn't risk it, he had gotten this far surviving by sticking to himself and getting away from things like the one before his eyes, or well, that was until he heard the aspirations of Midoriya, a whole new sentiment of admiration was in order where there used to be a feeling of condescending.
But, looking back at that time now, while sitting on a rooftop somewhere close enough to see the hint of UA's building with a villain and heroes battle going on just down below on the streets, yeah, he should have stayed away, he could have gone on with surviving, not this weird mixture of betrayal, anger, sadness, pain and broken hope. As people used to say, one should never meet their heroes...
Three years ago:
It was just the start of his first year of Middle School, the boy in question, Lucien, stared to the white ceiling above him, waiting for the alarm to go off, having woken up way too early for his liking, his rose gold long hair was spread like a halo under him, a little tangled due to tossing in his sleep, his zaphire eyes seem dull, like a pair of jewels that hadn't been polished correctly with hope in a long long time, the kid felt like everything was too much, his only way of coping was to push everything down in a little wooden box on the back of his mind, save from all living people, save from himself, showing too much was bad, so a small mask of stoic features covered his face every day from the moment he got out of bed. His mom hated him, and thinking of the small time where he got hugs, where he and her baked cookies together, where both of them sat on the porch of the house to paint hurt too much, so now she just pretended he didn't exist most of the time, his father, no better, they used to play catch, run around screaming and laughing, getting the living room cover in muddy footprints and getting yelled at by mom, now days, all their interactions involved some hits on his torso, shakes that left his mind foggy and words. To him, words were the worst, he could heal a broken arm, he could hide bruises with makeup and swallow the screams of pain; but the damage words did, could not be undone just like that, they stuck in his brain going around at all times of his day, they came back every time he thought he had already gotten rid of them, no matter what he did words always hurt the most, in a world that hated him, kind words to heal his broken heart were nowhere to be seen and he was all alone with no one to help him fight the injustice, long forgotten by all of them.
It was just then that he heard the alarm, a small sound of annoyance that showed the start of brand new day, there was some muffled words outside the door of his "room" which was really the big closet in his sister's bedroom, now empty of her clothes after she moved to a boarding high school for idols, according to his parents a quirkless boy like him couldn't have thing that where his, not that many at least if you counted clothes. So, he moved, turned off the alarm with a movement of his hand and started to change into his new uniform, at least he got the walk-in closet where he could move around a bit, and not one where he couldn't even raise an arm without touching the ceiling of the room. For once, his mother wanted to keep their image, providing him with some new clothes in order to not look suspicious to his classmates, it was up to him to fix it tho. Once he was ready, he waited. It usually wasn't a good idea to make a lot of noise this early in the morning, so he counted the minutes before he could get out, slowly stretching, giving his sore muscles a chance to move, to uncramp before he had to get out there. After around 30 minutes he walked outside the closet in silence, checking the cost before starting to do his chores of the day cleaning the set up room his parents showed teachers, media, friends and every one that they could rope in to their lies of a happy caring family, fixing the bed even tho he didn't sleep there, putting the clothes were they go, once he finished he went to the guest bathroom to clean his face, brush his hair and putting it in a low ponytail, it was a calm morning today, but his thoughts jinxed it, because he heard a crash that sounded like broken crystal and an angry scream after wards. Welp, there goes unharmed hands courtesy of crystals that he now needed to pick up without tools help, perhaps half of his breakfast was going to be thrown away due to the incident, even if he wasn't in the room where it happened. Sure enough, his name was called, and he rushed to the first floor of the house, things in his backpack already, honestly, it was just 7am, why did life hate him?
The walk to Aldera was uneventful, as most of his life was when no one knew who and what he was, keeping his eyes low watching the way his shoes and feet took him to another 3 years of people being rude to him if he was lucky, the other options where just painful, coming closer and closer to what he knew was going to be awful wishing that something would change even when his mind screamed at him to run now, he gave it 10 minutes max, for what? For hell to break loose of course. Just as he was going to reach his goal of arriving early to class, he heard shouting on the left alley close to school. A quick glance let him lock eyes with a boy, green emerald eyes, filled with pain, no action to defend themselves, all while a bunch of four guys beat him. The clear ringleader was a boy with spiked blonde hair and a really loud voice, his mind bowing to remember to stay away from him at all costs, before his eyes went back to the kid who clearly needed help and yet… They both knew the moment they met eyes what they were, they had the same look, resignation, low self-esteem, a hint of rage in one's case, and a hint of hope in the others, both knew that Lucien would not do anything, so, he nodded his head, almost imperceptibly, a show of telling how sorry he was, that he understood and that he could not do a thing, with pain and a feeling of being useless, he tightened his grip in the handles of his lilac backpack and prepared to face the worst, if that was how they treated that kid, he couldn't imagine his fate, or rather he didn't need to, he could see it already.
His guess that it would take 10 minutes for everything to go wrong was way off,, it didn't even last 5, the teacher, a woman with blonde hair, brown unkind eyes and a scowl in her face had told the class the moment they started attendance, asking of them to teach him, to help him, because he was just an useless sad little kid with no power, no quirk, nothing to look out for, yep, he was screwed. Low and behold, he entered lunch time with a punch in his face, a little cut in his arm and pain filling his body. He seeked kindness in an egg sandwich, some mochi and a thermo with warm oolong milk tea. Yeah, it was the little things that helped with everything, though that everything was starting to grow, too loud, too much pain, too much, it was all just too much, like always, how could he be so stupid to think that he would get a break?
Exiting school was an odyssey, a whole journey really, apparently, hunting him for sport was going to be a popular sport, a ¨tradition¨ of sorts that some older kids shared to the youngers, something that they teached the youngers after hearing the fun news, what were the odds that two quirkless kids ended up in the only school in the area that accepted them, ended up just a year far away. But, he was fast, contrary to popular beliefs, anyone could get a fit body and be good at sports without quirks, so his mission was to run away, from five of his classmates, thinking something fast, he used some trees to escape the people trying to catch him, calling for him to stop, to let the pain win, no chance, he didn't like pain, it always ended being too much, like everything always felt too much.