Chapter Text
The water is cold under his feet. Izuku doesn’t shiver, however. There’s the sun, trembling in the trickling stream, Izuku reaches to pull it up.
But the sun doesn’t like him, it burns, burns, burns at his little, outreached hand.
“ I don’t need your help! You goddamn Deku!”
Red eyes stab into his own round, green ones, burning with anger. Izuku’s little face contorts in confusion, because that’s what a hero does, isn’t it? Heroes reach out their arms pull the suffering and the hurt from rivers, save them from drowning.
Izuku is going to be a hero. Izuku is going to be a great hero like All Might.
Izuku is going to save people.
“You should give it up now,” The doctor shows no change in expression, staring impassively at the young boy sitting in front of him, “You’re quirkless.”
Ah.
Izuku gazes detachedly at the wall in front of him, and his mom lets out a choked breath. He pretends not to hear it.
“Are you sure?” Izuku’s mom sounds stricken, and Izuku himself doesn’t know what to think of that. The doctor sighs and nods his head. He explains to his mom, something about a joint in his toe, Izuku doesn’t really understand. What does his pinky toe have to do with him being quirkless? He supposes it’s just boring, grown-up, science stuff.
So what if Izuku was quirkless? He’s sure there are lots and lots of heroes that are just like him! He grins down at his lap, and his mom sobs uncontrollably at his side. He doesn’t understand why . Izuku is going to be a hero! Izuku’s-
–mom is crying. He sits in front of their singular, treasured computer. All Might has his trademark smile plastered on his face as he carries several injured people on his back.
“ I am here! ” He speaks in a booming voice, and the man behind the camera gasps in relief. Yes, Izuku thinks, I want to make people feel safe.
“Look at him, Mama.” Izuku’s voice comes out quiet and shaky, he doesn’t know why . “He smiles, no matter how hard it is. He’s always smiling,” his mom takes in sharp breath, as if bracing herself, he doesn’t understand why, “Do you think I can be like him, Mama?-”
His mom bounds over to him, throwing her arms around him and clutching him close to her chest. She lets out her unending, loud sobs. They’re gutwrenching and there are tears in Izuku’s eyes. Why is he crying? He’s happy! His smile is wide and making his cheeks ache, and Izuku- Izuku—
Why why why why why—?
Izuku has always understood. Maybe he understands more now, safe in the desperate clutches of his heartbroken mother. Izuku knows that there’s no one like him out there in the videos he watches on their rickety old computer. Izuku knows no one will ever believe in him.
That’s alright.
Izuku will be the first one.
“ Izuku! You’re going to be late!”
Izuku startles out of bed and runs for the bathroom like a possessed man. His body aches at the sudden movement, burns chafing against the fabric of his shirt. He ignores the pain and starts his shower.
By the time he makes it to the kitchen, he is already ten minutes late. Izuku curses himself internally, this was the third time this week! He frantically pulls on his loud, red shoes, tripping over himself as hops to the door.
“Oh no- no you don’t !” His mom sternly calls him back, before her voice quickly turns to desperation, “You can’t just skip breakfast again! I don’t care if you’re late! Izuku !-”
Izuku squeezes his mom’s hand and laughs, “I’m sorry!” and promptly rushes out their front door. His teacher isn’t one for leniency, especially not for him.
“Nice of you to join us, Midoriya.”
His teachers voice was flat, and Izuku’s classmates laughed in response. He hunched over, trying to look as small as possible as walked to his desk. A few of his classmates let out little snickers as he walked by, and one of them lifted out his foot to trip him, Izuku stumbled and the snickers increased in volume.
“Midoriya, stop distracting the class and get to your seat.”
“Yes, Sensei .” He whispers and rushes over to his seat. He stares at his desk, and finally feels his body relax as the gazes digging into his back turned back to his teacher. He is talking about plans for their future, bringing attention to the fact that they are third-years now.
“Who am I kidding, of course all of you want to be heroes!”
He let his head fall into his arms, refusing to watch the class bursts into hysterics. He doesn’t look up when his teacher quiets the class; He doesn’t look up when Kacchan berates the rest of his class, he doesn’t look up when—
“Midoriya? You’re applying to U.A. as well, aren’t you?”
A breath catches in his throat. The class falls silent.
Why why why why why—?
The class roars with laughter, and Izuku wishes that he could dig a cave in the floor and burrow deep, down there. Kacchan tears at the collar of his shirt, screaming in his face, but Izuku can’t hear him. His chest feels hollow, where all the usual anxiety and fear would normally swarm inside him. He is hollow.
The classroom empties, and all that is left him and the sun. He watches, numbly, when Kacchan grasps at his notebook, at every semblance of hope hidden within those crumpled pages, and his hands burn, burn, burn.
“ If you want a quirk so badly, go take a swan dive off the roof and pray for one in your next life! ”
Izuku’s chest pangs with a familiar ache. He stares at the book, drowning below the thriving koi, and grieves .
The walk back home is partnered with—surprisingly—complete silence in his head. It was unusual, his usual being his thoughts racing against each other every second of his day. But not today. He crosses under a bridge, a shortcut he’d discovered in his efforts to avoid Kacchan and his lackeys.
Then suddenly, there’s a clatter in the dark underpass, and something is pushed down Izuku’s throat. And there’s something—he can’t—he can’t breathe!
“Stay still,” A voice croons, and Izuku could take in a breath maybe he’d sob or scream, “It’ll only last for 45 seconds.”
Maybe he should just wait. Wasn’t this a desirable outcome? Everything would come to a stop. He would no longer have to play the role of Midoriya Izuku, the quirkless, utterly useless waste of space.
He should be disturbed at how quickly he accepts the black spots forming in his vision, how quickly he accepts his death. Somewhere amidst the crackling static in his hears, he hears the sludge villain’s laughter, and an even fainter “ Smash!” before things go dark.
All Might is…nothing like Izuku expected. He’s tiny now, shrunken in a cloud of smoke, sickly skinny with blood dripping from his mouth. All Might looks weak. Izuku doesn’t know what to do with this information.
Like the blood that spurted out of the hero’s throat, a question tears its way out of him. It’s entirely unintentional, like Izuku when he latched onto his hero’s leg—much to the man’s dismay—Izuku just couldn’t help himself.
“ Can I be a hero without a quirk? ”
…All Might really is nothing like Izuku expected. Everything feels… numb . All Might’s words are muffled in Izuku’s ears. He watches, from somewhere far, far away, as All Might lifts his shirt above his hip. The scar crawling across his skin is grotesque. Izuku doesn’t know what the man is saying, not over the ringing in his ears, but he can hear the dismal tone drowning the pro’s words. Izuku stares at the distorted mark. He can picture his soul in a similar state.
Izuku wasn’t—He wasn’t expecting an immediate, or enthusiastic ‘ Yes!’ No— No, not at all . Izuku was not an idiot. But still, still, even though somewhere deep, deep inside him he knew, he just—he just—
He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t fucking understand. Why —why was he born like this? Why why why—
A door slams behind him. Izuku flinches, his thoughts abruptly coming to a close. He hadn’t noticed All Might leaving, and now the rooftop was terrifyingly silent. Terrifyingly empty. Izuku stares at the edge of the roof. The fence is a simple one, completely different from the tall, meshed one sitting of the roof of his school building. He muses, wryly, that Kacchan was uncharacteristically stupid in his statement. Izuku couldn’t possibly leap—especially not in a swan dive —off of the school roof, it was simply impossible. But here, over this fence just barely below his waist…Izuku could actually…
Oh.
He’s not entirely sure when he ended up right at the edge of the roof. But there he is, his ugly, bright red shoes toe at the edge of the cement where it turns upwards. Izuku looks up at the cityscape, searching for something that could possibly pierce the horrid numbness in his chest. His eyes catch on, for a second, to some explosions in the distance. Vaguely, he can sense a familiar urge in his heart, whispering, begging, pleading, that’s Kacchan—you need to save him, you have to save him—!
Maybe, in another world, the numbness would’ve been conquered in a split second, and Izuku would’ve rushed down the same stairs All Might took a few moments ago. Maybe, in that universe, Midoriya Izuku would’ve ached at the sight of his friend in distress, and desperate reached for him, cutting his suffering short. Maybe. Maybe in another world.
In this world, however, Midoriya Izuku remains on this damned rooftop. In this world, Midoriya Izuku strips off his shoes, fighting against steadily rising nausea, and climbs over the perfectly sized fence. In this world, Midoriya Izuku is weak, and standing on the edge of life and death, Izuku smiles. He smiles widely, tasting the salty tears caught in the crevices of his teeth, and mocks himself thinking he was a fucking idiot for ever thinking he was strong enough to be a hero.
Izuku stares down at the sidewalk below. There is no one there now, but there will be someone soon. He pities the people who will find his body, red and mangled, right where it belongs. His mom will be distraught, surely, but ultimately, this is the best case scenario for her. He will no longer be a financial and emotional burden for her, and Izuku takes comfort in that reassurance.
…It’s not a swan dive.
Izuku hesitates, only for a second. This will make do.
His knees buckle. And Izuku falls, falls, falls down to the ground. His head hits the ground with a sickening crack.
And he opens his eyes to a city scape. He thinks he can hear explosions in the distance.
… What?