Warning: Mentions of suicide, bullying, medical issues, etc. These are pretty common themes, so don't read if they bother you.
"My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes."
-L.M. Montgomery
All men are not created equal.
It is the simplest lessons that hurt the most.
Midoriya Izuku was always an excitable kid. A bit of a follower, maybe, if you'd asked his teachers, never one to take the lead, but he'd follow with his best foot forward and a smile on his face. He was so happy, so good, and that determination! Why, when the children got together and their mothers had a moment to converse, they would titter. He would make such a good sidekick one day.
And, honestly, Izuku was content with that. More than content. One day, it would be him and Kacchan, taking down bad guys! Kacchan would blow them up and be all big and powerful and heroic, just like All Might! And Izuku would be just like Sir Nighteye! They'd be a team!
They'd be a team.
Until they weren't.
The doctor's words were spoken bluntly, with a tinge of pity, but little care. However much they seemed to reverberate throughout the tiny hospital room, it took both Midoriyas a solid pause for the words to kick in.
"But maybe he's just a late bloomer-!" Inko exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing as she laid a hand on her sons shoulder. "After all, I even-"
But Izuku couldn't hear her anymore. It was muffled; in that moment, everything was muffled. It couldn't be real, it couldn't be. They were going to be a team. He was gonna be a hero, he was going to save people with a smile on his face-!
Inko tried to fix it, Izuku cried, but even then—
Izuku smiled.
"Can I be a hero?"
"I'm so sorry Izuku, I'm so sorry!"
Midoriya Izuku was a skittish kid. It was a bit uncomfortable to watch, honestly. He was always a bit of a weirdo, with the whole mumbling thing. And didn't you hear? Quirkless. My, he's going to have trouble in this day and age. And still following after that Bakugou boy! Now that was a kid who was going places, with a quirk like that. Midoriya would probably get the hint soon, and leave all the heroics to the abled people.
It was pathetic to watch really, but kids will be kids.
"Kaa-san?" Izuku whispered, eyebrows furrowed as he peeked in through the cracked door. The bedroom was dim, and he could barely make out the shape of her bed through the low light of the moon filtering through the curtains. "Are you sleepin'?"
There was a soft sound of fabric moving, and a vague form sat up slowly, leaning heavily on their arms. "Izuku, baby? Is that you?" A hoarse voice responded.
The five year old boy quickly took the words as an unspoken invitation and opened the door all the way, dragging a small blanket behind him as he quickly entered the room and crawled up into the bed. Inko scooched slightly, raising the covers so that the younger boy could creep in before laying back down and wrapping an arm around him.
Izuku wasted no time in snuggling up against her, only to pause and look up at her, befuddled. "Kaa-san, you're shiverin'!" He wondered. The room itself was on the warmer side – it was mid-June, and they're air conditioning barely worked on the best of days.
Inko let out a soft chuckle, threading her fingers through her son's hair, a soft smile on her face. "Kaa-san's just a little sick, baby." She told him. "She'll be better soon. Now, what are you doing up so late, hmm?"
The young boy let out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the covers. "Nightm're." He murmured, but he didn't seem too terribly affected by it, already half asleep.
Inko's smile faded slightly, but she kept petting his hair. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She hummed. There was a pause as Izuku seemed to contemplate whether it was worth the effort, but he did eventually answer.
"…'s Tou-san comin' back?" He whispered, peeking up at her through dark eyelashes. Inko couldn't help the slight flinch in response, but she swallowed it down and closed her eyes. Took a breath.
"No, baby, he's not." She could make out the slight quivering of Izuku's lip even from beneath the thin sheet, and she'd recognize the sheen to his eyes a mile away. The boy let out a slight sniffle, burrowing his face into her chest.
"S'cause I'm useless." He muttered, the words muffled by her t-shirt – it felt like a knife to the heart. She could barely bite back her own tears at the words, and quickly kissed her son's messy head of curls.
"Oh, no, nonono, baby you aren't useless. Tou-san- Tou-san and Kaa-san just- it wasn't your fault, okay? You're perfect." She murmmered, the words breathless. Inko could feel the wetness gathering against her chest, could see the slight shaking of the boy's shoulders, and rubbed his back.
Inko wondered how many times she would have to tell him that before he'd believe it.
"I can't do this anymore, Inko! I just- I can't. We messed up, we shouldn't have even done this, we can't afford this!"
"Hisashi, just be rational-!"
"He's never going to amount to anything! All these, these tests, all those toys and that god damn video, Inko, you're just wasting your time!"
"He's your son, he's our son!"
"He's useless Inko!"
All men are not created equal.
All men are not created equal.
All men are not created equal.
Search: how do u get a quirk
Search: how do u fix a brokin quirk
Search: can u buy a quirk
Search: how to make yur parents proud
Search: how to make sumone love u
Search: how to be yoosful
Search: why did
Search: why dont
Search: heros with no quirks
Search: peeple with no quirks
Search: rencarnashun
Search: re incarnashun
Search: what happins when u die
Search: late quirks
Search: what does it meen when sumone throws up a lot
Midoriya Izuku is a quiet kid, kind of dull, really. You'd barely notice that he was there half the time. He's a good writer and all, his grades aren't bad, but he doesn't really stick out you know? Kind of plain. I mean, with the whole quirkless thing – well, some kids get at him a bit, but boys will be boys. It'll stiffen his spine, he'll need that you know? Especially with what happened with his mother. Oh, didn't you hear? Why, she collapsed in old Fukashu's corner store just last week-!
They never really give her a diagnosis. It's more like a smattering of issues, all accumulated into a body that just doesn't work. Gastroparesis and neuropathy, and dysmoblility, fibromayalgia, and postural orthostatic tachycardia. Izuku can't begin to count the nights he'd stayed up late, just researching and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping, but there's never a solid answer. Its never anything quantifiable, nothing that can be written off and fixed with a pill you took every day.
Just a long string of doctors that didn't have answers and a backpack filled with more daily medication to take than most homes had in the entirety of their medicine cabinet.
The doctors got expensive. The medicine got expensive.
Izuku watches his mother suffer, and waits.
Kaachan doesn't talk to him much, anymore. Oh, he likes shoving him when he walks by, and popping sparks next to his face when he's scribbling in his notebooks, and yeah he'll ruin his stuff or put burn holes in his clothes, but they don't really talk. It's either a, "Get outta my way, shitty fuckin' Deku!" or its nothing at all.
The burns hurt. He starts buying cheaper notebooks, starts learning to memorize what he wants to say before he even attempts putting pen to paper. Fire starts to make him nervous.
Izuku thinks he hates Kacchan.
But he misses him even more.
His mom spends most of her time sleeping now. Sixteen to eighteen hours a day – sometimes, she's awake when he leaves for school, but she's usually napping by the time he gets home for the day. Sometimes, she'll have enough energy to wake up for a bit and have dinner with him even if she can't really eat it, and he loves her so much he thinks his heart is going to burst.
She smiles at him with a pale face and purple lips, asks, "How was your day baby?" And he smiles back, eats his microwave dinner, and lies.
Oh, it was great! They're starting the Muromachi Period in history and it's just fascinating, and he got to pet a stray dog on the way home, and there was this hero fight he saw on the news-!
He doesn't mention the bruises and the burns and the words that cut so deep he wears them like a brand under his skin.
Izuku isn't naïve, for all that he still wants to be a hero. He's done his research, he's lived with his mother day in and day out, and a part of him knows. Even if he doesn't think he could say it out loud, he knows.
His mother isn't going to live forever. Kaa-san loves him more than anything in the world, and he does her, and he never wants to hurt her. So he tucks her back into bed, cleans up the dishes, does his homework, and he waits.
Because he's living for her. For now, he has to live.
He waits.
It's Kacchan who puts the idea in his head – he does that with a lot of things. It had been the blonde boy who'd first said, "Your stupid dad probably left cause he didn't wanna stare at your dumb face!" It had been him who'd exclaimed in front of the whole class, "You still wanna be a hero? You're quirkless, you idiot! Your worthless! You think someone's gonna want to be saved by a freak like you?!"
Children are cruel. Izuku can't help but think that the teacher who watched it happen and didn't say a word is crueler.
It's the first year of middle school when it happens. They're halfway through the break between third and fourth period when Izuku finds himself abruptly shoved up against a wall, his head cracking audibly against the brick of the school building. A muffled hiss escaped from between his teeth, the world around him is blurry for only a moment.
"Fucking Deku, looking so goddamn smug!" The words are familiar, but the tone sends a shiver down his spine as he looks up in a panic. Kacchan's red eyes are glowing as they glare down at him, and Izuku can already make out the burnt-caramel smell of nitroglycerin emanating from the boy. Kacchan's in a bad mood.
It never ends well for him when Kacchan's in a bad mood.
"I'm sorry-" He tried to whisper, only to flinch violently as a fist impact the wall directly next to his head. Kacchan is nearly snarling now, hackles risen as his lackeys look on, smirks on their faces. Izuku already knows no help is coming from that direction.
"It makes me fuckin' sick just looking at you! Coming in here, thinking you can still amount to something, how fuckin stuck up are you, huh, Deku!?" Kacchan punches the wall again, and this time a small explosion eeks out, singing Izuku's hair and ear and he winces, closing his eyes and just waiting for whatever comes next.
Its wet. A splash of liquid meets his face unexpectedly and the younger boy sputters, eyes opening abruptly as he tried to wipe at his face – it stings in his eyes, and smells of – apple juice? Through squinted vision, he can make out the crumbled form of his lunch bag, where his juice pouch had apparently been turned against him. It had been one of Kacchan's 'friends,' the one with the wings whose face was twisted into a sneer.
"Hey, fuckin' extra, did I say you could do anything?" The blonde boy spat, quickly turning around and glaring ferociously at the other boy who paled and backed away, carefully not making eye contact. The kid's actions seemed enough to get Kacchan to back off for the moment, looking down at Izuku wet and miserable as he tried to rub juice out of his eyes.
"Better than you deserve, useless Deku. Might as well bring bleach to drink tomorrow, do us all a damn favor." He spat, and with a final harsh shove and a flurry of sparks, Izuku was left sitting on the school ground, alone.
His hands were shaking, he noted almost mechanically as he checked himself over. His ear was throbbing from where open flame had met it, and his hair smelt singed. His chest ached from the force of Kacchan's shove, and he knew he was going to have a sizeable lump on his head by tomorrow morning.
Drink bleach.
"Stupid Kacchan," He whispered, unable to fight back the tears that welled in his irritated eyes. "Stupid- stupid, stupid-" Izuku muttered, fisting his hands in his hair and for a moment just tugging, inhaling sharply at the sting before relaxing.
He had only a few minutes to get cleaned up before class – he couldn't get away with changing into his gym uniform, so he'd had to get as much of the juice off him as he could.
Standing on shaking legs, Izuku left, but he didn't forget.
He never forgot.
He couldn't kill himself.
It wasn't like the thought hadn't gone through his mind before, that there wasn't an easy way out where he didn't have to wake up and face the gaping hole inside of him, knowing that every day he got up was pointless and that he was going to die never having accomplished anything, never having been loved or wanted or smiled at by someone who knew how useless he was-
But no matter how tempting, he couldn't. His mom loved him. Midoriya Inko lived and breathed for her son. After Tou-san had left, Kaa-san had worked tirelessy to provide for him, to provide the extra tests from specialists to be absolutely sure he was quirkless, for his schooling, for their house and everything else. She worked for years, until her body started to fail her, and she worked even then.
It wasn't until she collapsed that she finally agreed to rest, to file for disability and just take it easy. She put food on the table for him, instead of medicine for herself. She smiled at him through the pain, she laughed and held him when he cried, and he would do anything to repay everything she had done for him.
So he would. As long as him mom lived, so did he.
And when she died, so would he.
So he planned, and he waited.
It gets harder. He grows up, watches his classmates flourish and leave him behind, and he aches. He catalogues every quirk he comes across near obsessively, convinced in some way that maybe he can make up for his complete and utter lack of ability in knowledge, like he's somehow find a way to overcome all of his burdens and become the hero he always wanted to be.
He knows he can't, but a part of him still wants. Wants to believe, wants to be. He knows it'll give up eventually. A rock can only be eroded so far before it crumbles.
Kacchan is brilliant. He is bright and colorful and loud and alive and sometimes Izuku thinks he's like a comet, where you see him and for a moment you're mesmerized, but eventually as you get closer and closer to the light you realize its heading straight towards you and hits the ground and shatters everything you ever cared about and-
And well. Kacchan is going to be amazing. He's going to be a hero that can beat even All Might, he's going to save lives and make money and Izuku will always be there, quietly cheering him on from the sidelines. Kacchan deserves to be a hero, after all his hard work.
Kacchan is worth something
He has nightmares about those eyes
The gut wrenching fear every time someone flicks a lighter
He just wanted to be friends—
Kacchan is going to be a great hero.
So I'm the kind of person that loves reading sad shit, and also writing sad shit, so here we are my dudes. This is mostly a kind of vent fic, as someone with a chronic illness and a Very Sick Mom, but who knows where it'll go! This is kind of a prologue, as we'll be getting into canon next chapter. Also a heads up, not sure if I'll include romance, but if I do its more likely than not gonna be gay, so if that bothers you don't read it.
I always love feedback~! I also know I switch tenses 24/7 and I Am Sorry.
Song of the Chapter: Milk and Honey by Flowerface