Nobody is created equal. We might say all men have an inherent equality. But it is the truth of the matter, when it is stated that some are more equal than others.

My name is Izuku Midoriya. Son of a chronically stressed woman, Inko Midoriya, and a father who never shows up, Hisashi Midoriya. In a world where 80% of the population have a superpower, known as Quirks, I am a part of an ostracized few, the Quirkless freaks, the ones unlucky enough to be born without powers. While I try to never let it get to me, I find that rather ridiculously impossible to do in a society filled with the stuff of comic books. Superheroes.

That morning, I walk towards my middle school, Aldera High, a cheerful smile on my face and a spring in my step. Within myself, however, I relive a distant memory. A memory of me, an unpowered little kid, trying to defend his age mate against his former best friend, who just happened to be the wielder of an unfairly strong ability. Of course, things went horribly wrong for me, despite my rather feeble attempt at heroism. That memory stuck out to me, mainly because It was around then that I finally realized mankind's inequality. These days, race and cultural heritage matters little, if at all. Instead, discrimination had taken the form of the ostracization of the Quirkless. While that was stipulated to slowly dwindle, due to the gradual decline of the Quirkless population, it was still a somewhat major issue today. For a kid that wanted nothing more than to become a hero, finding out that you lacked an essential component, making you essentially subhuman in modern society, was a rather devastating blow.

My rather grim thoughts circled through my headspace in this fashion, following me, haunting me as it did practically every single day. A dismal gloom began to set over me, dimming my enthusiasm till even the breathtaking sights of cherry blossom petals weren't enough to draw me out of my funk anymore. Only one thing could, at this point in time.

As I walked through the streets of Musutafu, now thoroughly downtrodden, I came upon a sight. A crowd of people were converged under and around Onibas Station, witnessing a battle between a Hero and a Villain. Instantly, my mood became better, and with a grin, I ran towards the congregation to better bear witness to the confrontation.

"Whoa! It's a giant villain." I exclaimed. Indeed, a villain stood at least fifteen feet tall, moving and shouting erratically in the middle of the road as the Heroes converged on him. I recognized a lot of them, some particularly standing out, like Death Arms, who was collaborating with the police in an attempt at crowd control. The others weren't really well known, so I didn't pay much attention to them even if I could recite their entire career history in my sleep. The main star of the show, however, arrived the moment I joined the crowd.

"Eek!!! It's Kamui!" A gaggle of girls a short distance away squealed in excitement. Indeed, the well known, up and coming star, Kamui Woods, swung into the scene.

"It's Kamui Woods! He's a young hero who recently entered the Superhero scene. His rise to fame is pretty meteoric considering his age, and the short amount of time he's spent In the spotlight!" I rattled off facts that I had probably recited again and again, excitement coursing through my veins and showing through the wide grin I had on my face.

"Sheesh kid. You're pretty knowledgeable. Wanna be a hero too, eh?" A middle aged man, one who was slightly mutated probably as a side effect of his quirk, said. When I realized that he was in fact speaking to me, my stomach plunged down to the depths of my soles, and though my smile didn't disappear, it noticeably dimmed.

"Uh, yeah, kinda." I replied, carefully leaving out the fact that I didn't even have an ability to call my own, an individuality that would facilitate my entrance into the hero scene. Not wanting to be put down so soon after cheering up, I refocused on the fight. Kamui Woods swung into the scene, performing mind boggling acts of utter flexibility as he traveled through the air, before eventually settling on a surface.

"Illegal use of abilities during rush hour, as well as robbery and assault!? You're pure evil." The Arbor Hero proclaimed rather dramatically, something that served to wind up his audience, including me. When I saw his arm beginning to transform, I immediately deducted his subsequent action. I began to exclaim excitedly: "Here it comes! He's going to use his Preemptive Binding..."

"... LACQUERED CHAIN PRISON!" We said at almost exactly the same time, and immediately, his wooden arms began to bloom outwards in snaking vines seeking to capture the perpetrator. It was a mostly sure fire technique, known widely as his signature restraining move. Unfortunately, things didn't go quite as planned.

"CANYON CANNON!" A loud female voice bellowed out, followed by a devastating kick from a giant female in a cream, purple and gold costume with purple horns. The giantess knocked out the villain with a rather well placed attack, just as Kamui's technique was about to end the fight, effectively stealing his spotlight. The woman was unfamiliar, and as an acknowledge Superhero nerd, that was quite alarming. Photographers and reporters instantly converged on the new arrival, most of them muttering something about'booty shots' that made me turn red. And indeed, when the giantess settled to a stance, and leaned down slightly, her rather alluring figure was put on display.

"You can all call me Mount Lady. Today is my debut. Nice to make to make your acquaintance everyone!"

Ah. So that's was why I didn't recognize her. She was just starting out today. I scowled. That was probably also why she stole the spotlight directly from under Kamui's nose. At that moment, I gained a miniscule dislike of her. Real heroes wouldn't have done what she did, especially not my idol, the number one Hero. This further increased my dislike for heroes who were In the business of saving people only for fame and glory, and reinforced my determination to be an Ideal Hero. A symbol for people to look up to. To depend. Despite my lack of powers, I swore to myself that I would try my best to make an attempt, or several attempts, to reach my goal, no matter how low the likelihood of my success was.

Later

Sitting quietly in the back of my classroom, I write down a list of Stats, ideas and wikia on the Mount Lady section of my Hero Ideas Notebook that I created that morning. I steadfastly ignored whatever was happening in class, and i was thankfully ignored in return. That is, until the teacher decided to open his big mouth.

"Hmm. Now that I think about it, isn't Midoriya also applying for UA High?" He said. I froze, my eyes widening in panic and my fingers clutching my pen in a mildly painful death grip. Shit. Well played, I thought glumly as I raised my head, preparing for the coming explosion. The class was silent for a few moments, all of them staring back at me in shocked incredulity. Then, the explosion happened.

"What!?" A flash of yellow light, and my book and table erupted in a violent boom, throwing me down to my backside due to a minor shockwave. A blonde haired male stood over me, his lips pulled back in a snarl and his red eyes practically gleaming in a rather obvious expression of his utter fury.

"What the hell are you thinking, Deku!? You don't even have a quirk, you loser! You tryna compete with me, huh!?" The angry blonde pomeranian raged, making me back off in gear for my health in the short termed future. His name, was Katsuki Bakugo, my former childhood friend and the bully who has continuously turned my school life into a living hell for almost as long as I remembered.

"K-kacchan! They a-abolished that r-r-rule a year ago! B-besides, I c-can always g-go for the General S-studies C-courses!" I exclaimed in panic. At that moment, I hated myself. I hated the way I quivered In fear, I hated the urge I felt to justify myself before his anger, I hated the way my heart squeezed in utter despair, the way perspiration born of panic and terror bloomed across my skin. I loathed, especially, the way my eyes welled with tears, despite how much I fought against it. Most of all, however. In that moment, I hated myself.

My panicked blubbering seemed to calm him down a little, as expected. The teacher later called him down, half-heartedly reprimanding him for his usage of his Quirk In school, while my classmates laughed and jeered at me. The constant mockery all served to make me feel just a bit more empty, and before I knew it, the day had passed by me, trapped as I was in my self-loathing daze. School had ended, when Kacchan decided to grace me with his magnanimous presence once more.

"Hey Deku! We're not finished here." I heard as I was packing my things, getting prepared to leave the mostly empty classroom. I tried to ignore him for the most part, up until he took my Hero Notebook.

"What's this? My Plans For The Future...You never really give up, do you, Deku?" Kacchan sneered when I turned to face him. Ignoring his snickering lackeys from behind him, I reached out to collect my Notebook. "Give that..." I was too late. With a casual use of his Quirk, Kacchan engulfed my note in concussive fire and smoke, before summarily flinging the burnt stationary out the window. I froze, staring in horror. Before I knew it, Kacchan's face loomed over mine as he gripped my collar, and he menacingly stared down his nose at me, like I was a bug beneath his notice, so far below him that to exist in his mere presence was an affront in and of itself.

"Look here, Deku. I've always wanted to be like all those top heroes, those who come from backwater schools like this, and then go on to become great people in the future despite their lackluster backgrounds. You could say that I'm a perfectionist," He said, his palms crackling as he held it menacingly close to my face. "So if you think I'll let you ruin that for me, you've got another thing coming, Quirkless loser." He finished with a shove that perfectly complimented the vitriol that had been dripping off of his speech. With a derisive snort, he started to walk around out of the class, his two friends trailing behind him. The both of them were whispering something beneath their breaths, though I couldn't be bothered to listen. I did hear the scathing line Kacchan through over his shoulder though.

"You know? If you really want powers that much, maybe you'll get lucky in your next life. All you have to do is jump of the window right there."

I hated myself, right then, again. It seems these days, the sun wouldn't set without me at least hating myself once or twice. I hated that the moment anger overwhelmed me at hearing that sentence, I was once again effortlessly quelled by my bully's rather smug display of power.

Later, after retrieving my note, which was in a rather pitiful and almost unsalvageable state, from the water fountain at school, I once again found myself lost in my memories. At the time when, barely four, I had my dream snatched out from under me without so much as a preamble. When I had sought comfort from my mother, desperately needing her to say the words I needed to hear, to support my dreams and affirm my aspirations even in the face of overwhelming odds. But she hadn't. I think that, more than anything, was what made us drift apart. The fact that Inko Midoriya couldn't lie to her son's face. Most times, I tell myself I would've taken that lie, than the stark truth that haunted me to this day.

As I approached a tunnel on my way home, I saw something strange, and I came to an abrupt stop. Right in front of the tunnel, shattered against one of it's walls were glass pieces and strange colored liquid from what seemed to be several chemical lab beakers. Lying among the glass remains, was a single intact beaker, filled with strangely luminescent green liquid, and plastered with a white sticker that was labeled with something I couldn't see. Narrowing my eyes, I walked towards the green beaker, picking it up and then examining it. Written with a blue pen on the white sticker were the words 'Project Trump'.

As I stared at it in mild puzzlement, it suddenly occured to me that the liquid might be a highly poisonous biohazard. Scanning the floor for any indication as to where it came from, I sighed when I found nothing, and ended up staring at the faintly glowing green liquid in the beaker. It wasn't long before I was mesmerized, filled with something that resembled intense curiosity somewhere beneath the cloud of gloom that still hung around me. Struck by a sudden impulse, I popped open the container, and brought it up to my nose. No smell. Then, to emphasize the fact that I wasn't thinking straight, since I definitely wouldn't have attempted it if I was, I upturned the contents of the beaker into my mouth. No taste. It wasn't even bland, instead filled with a permeating freshness that could almost be called crystalline.

It was then I realized what I was doing, and recoiled so badly that I flung the beaker as far from me as I could. Beneath the horror and cold fear that gripped me, I sarcastically told myself that if it ended up being highly toxic, I was sure that no one, short of my mother, would miss me. Filled with even more horror at my morbid thoughts, I wiped my fingers on my gakuren uniform, unaware of the still increasing coldness spreading through me.

With a shake of my head to discard bad thoughts, metaphorically, I held my head high and began to walk through the tunnel, beaker long forgotten. Before I got halfway through, however, I heard unsettling sounds, echoing in way similar to sludge. Freezing in my tracks, I slowly turned. I blanched.

"A meat shield, if a bit average. Nobody said 'he' was coming to town!" The absolute monstrosity dredging itself upwards before me said. Even as I gasped in horror, and tried to back away, the sludge monster lunged towards me and engulfed me in it's rather repugnant slime. I tried to struggle, I tried to scream, but all my efforts were in vain. My hyperactive tears, a result of my genetics that I both loved and hated, began to rush out in gushing waves as my vision steadily darkened due to a lack of oxygen. Memories of my pathetic life flashed through my eyes, and my despair gradually built up till I wanted nothing more than to just die, then.

The last thing I saw before I was embraced by all encompassing unconsciousness, was the manhole cover being blown off it's hinges, and a muscled form eruption outwards.

I woke up not long afterwards, feeling extremely disoriented. As awareness returned to my addled mind, I could feel vague visions from something that might have been a dream, slipping away from the grasp of my conciousness. It was only when I gained sufficient awareness that I realized that a large hand was tapping my cheeks as gently as it could, even though I still felt numerous tiny stings on my relatively soft cheeks.

"Wake up, young man! Wake up!" I heard from a bellowing voice. I forced my eyes open, groaned when I felt the unforgiving sting of light shining down on my sensitive pupils, and focused on the large shadow bearing down from above me. For a moment, I was sure that I'd hit my head bad enough for hallucinations. When the image standing above me didn't vanish, however, my eyes snapped wide open, and I exclaimed in shocked surprise: "ALL MIGHT!!"

The towering figure stood up straight, revealing his humongous frame, golden hair, and that massive smile that brought a feeling of utter safety to those he saved. In a world of Superheroes, the one person closest to the perfect ideal Hero, no, THE perfect Ideal Hero himself, was the one standing before me. All Might, the Number 01 Hero. In Japan anyways.

"Well, young man, you seem to be doing better! I would like to thank you and apologize for accidentally knocking you out back there, but as you know, we superheroes do not only fight the villains, we fight against time itself! I'm running a bit late now, so you'll see me next time, through your television screen. Hahaha!" The most esteemed Hero In all of Japan said in such a rush that by the time I was registering what he said, he was already preparing to jump away. Immediately I realized this, I scrambled up to my feet, my heart pounding with a sense of extreme urgency.

"Wait! There's something I have to ask you!" I yelled, my hands outstretched as if to take hold of him and preventing his departure. When he paused, I breathed an explosive sigh of relief, then readied myself for what I was about to enquire from my childhood idol. I saw him open his mouth, probably to inform me again of his dwindling time, but I plowed in regardless, preventing him from voicing whatever was on his mind.

"IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE A HERO WITHOUT A QUIRK!?"

Silence.

" It's just, ever since I was a child, it's been my dream to be Hero. Y-you inspired me, A-All M-M-Might. It's all I've ever wanted, and I-I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I don't at least try to be a Hero. Y-You see, unlike most p-people, I don't have a quirk. I don't h-have a special ability, an individuality. I know it'll probably be a-a long shot to try to be a Hero without a power, but please, tell m-me All Might. Is there a-at least some hope for me? As l-long as I have the d-determination t-t-to see my dreams through to the end, I have a fair chance o-of success, r-r-right?"

More silence.

And then;

"I'm sorry, young man. But I don't think so."

And just like that, my world came crashing down.

I didn't notice when All Might left. I didn't notice when I started walking home. All I remembered was an excruciating emptiness, and a desire to just drift away. Even though warmth filled my body, which I didn't even notice at the time, my mind was, for lack of a better word, stilled. Frozen in time. It's refusal to comprehend the words that came out of the mouth of my idol was so intense that it stopped processing all together, leaving my subconscious to take charge. Or at least that's my theory.

I remember feeling adrift, and I remember wishing that there wasn't a physical object I couldn't go through, since I wasn't sure I was in the presence of mind to free myself long enough to open the door to the house. I remember everything blurring by, I remember the tears finally pouring out when I reached my room.

And now, standing in the middle of my room and staring at the All Might merchandise that filled it to choking, I remember the fact that I never walked home. Of course, I remember the feeling of gradual progression, of moving forward, but that crucial act of walking, I didn't remember. I also realized that I never opened the door, and yet, here I am.

My heart pounding, my veins singing it's blatant refusal to believe what I was beginning to suspect, I looked down. My mind became numb.

For the second time that day, I cried like there was no tomorrow, as my heart rebuilt itself on a tiny foundation that signified the concept of 'Hope'.

I, Izuku Midoriya, was floating a feet in the air.