[PROLOGUE]

As a minority population that was only continuing to decline, quirkless people didn't really fit well into society anymore – particularly in a country of 'superior purebloods' that perceived quirklessness as an 'opportunistic disability.'

For the last two decades the number of anti-quirkless members within the House of Representatives had grown. Combined with a line of radically conservative prime ministers who each felt quirkless people had somehow become non-traditional meant Japan had earned it's place as one of the world's worst countries to be born quirkless. How quirkless prejudice manifested in Japanese society was deeply, and deceptively psychological.

Suicide in quirkless communities was normal.

Expected, even.

However, Japan was not directly attacking it's minority population the way others were. Rather, it was cutting them out of society through deliberate neglect. For example; it wasn't technically illegal to deny them accommodations in school, disinclude them from 'equal opportunity employment', and even dismiss them in court.

There were so few quirkless people left they couldn't even stand up for themselves anymore. The majority had begun to see their needs as obsolete and unnecessary. They were a waste of resources– especially when the resources provided were being so frequently abused by quirked people feigning quirklessness.

And as if that fire needed any more fuel, the number of quirkless people born in Japan had dropped from barely 3% to less than 2% of the population, an all-time low, within just two decades.

The decline was said to be due to a genetic mutation, spread by disease from mother to infant, that caused quirkless children to have weaker hearts, resulting in an unusually high mortality rate. The natural scientific implication, then, was that women– even quirkless women themselves –were suddenly unable to produce viable offspring due to a spontaneous change in their base DNA. Somehow, almost a million people from different families and generations, all across Japan, fell victim to the same mutation with no other outward symptoms.

Some were suspicious that the recent drop in birthrates was controlled by the government. It was a complex conspiracy theory about ensuring that Japanese citizens could become biologically stronger, developing more impressive quirks with every generation. Security had clamped down somewhere around twenty years ago, however, so there was little in the way of supporting evidence.

Even if there was someone who wanted to, there was nothing that could be done.

Whether it was deliberate or not, quirklessness was disappearing from Japan.

The letter Izuku got from UA a week after the entrance exam was cruelly ironic to the way his life had turned out. It seemed to fatten the pages between his fingers every time he re-read the words "congratulations" and "accepted" stamped in bold, black letters on crisp, white letterhead.

He wondered how much it weighed now. Already it felt like one of those twenty pound dumbbells he'd moved while cleaning Dagobah Beach.

Izuku's scarred hands shook a little when he clumsily folded the letter back into the envelope and then placed it down on the frail table in front of him. He scratched at a bandage on his cheek.

What was the point? Why send him this? It couldn't be a prank – no-one in school could've known where he lived now and even if they did they wouldn't want to risk the slums for it. His last foster family, the Usoros, had moved back to America and Izuku couldn't afford to stay in their apartment with the monthly allowance they sent him. Not even Kacchan knew where he lived now.

Izuku hadn't taken the entrance exam thinking he'd actually get in. He'd taken it more because he wanted a chance to see the future heroes and their quirks – which was probably really creepy. He still wasn't sure if letting him take the practical at all had been a mistake of misplaced paperwork. There was no logic in letting him, a genuinely quirkless person, of all people, take that practical.

"You can't be worthless if you're not quirkless"– or so the saying went.

With a burdened sigh that befitted more an old veteran than a fifteen year old student, Izuku Midoriya sat back in his creaky chair and tried not to feel sorry for himself. He had his own apartment all to himself, Kacchan wouldn't be there to blow up his notebooks anymore, and he was even taking some college courses online!

He was set on the right course to graduate college with a good degree before he died, just like he'd promised mom. When he met her in the afterlife she could be proud of him.

Izuku had learned a lot since she passed away, about life and how to make do with what you have. His foster families had taught him sometimes it was better to be ignored, to value clean air and silence. His teachers taught him how to endure. And All Might had taught him how to face reality, how to give up on something even if it hurt in ways you hadn't imagined before.

Izuku had learned to let go of his dream.

The dream, though, couldn't seem to let go of him.

Deku hadn't been trying to be a hero when he leapt out between the bodies of idle pros to save Kacchan. He hadn't been trying to be a hero when he stepped in to protect that little boy from the yakuza upstarts Izuku knew were in charge of a human trafficking ring. He hadn't been trying to be a hero when he'd dragged that girl out of the rubble and helped her escape the zero-pointer during the practical exam.

But, after all this time, Izuku thought the most important thing he'd learned since his mother's death was that you didn't have to be a hero to help people.

And there should be more to their lives than just survival.

So even if all he could do was make life just a little better for someone, that's what he wanted to do.

The next day Izuku canceled his own UA enrollment. He had a feeling he wouldn't live long enough to finish high school and then move on to college after, even if it wasn't a requirement for UA students.

He'd promised his mom he would finish college for her.

It wasn't like he could afford to attend UA anyway. Being quirkless meant he didn't qualify for any of their free-ride scholarships.

Izuku would just have to make do with what he had for just a little longer.

This was something that had never been done before. None of the students accepted into UA had ever withdrawn their application after receiving their acceptance letter.

No-one.

Except for Izuku, Midoriya.

And that made some heads turn.

I'm giving this fic a trial run to see if it's worth publishing. Let me know if you're interested by leaving me 'O' in the reviews. If you're not interested either leave me an 'X' or just stay silent.

Thanks :)