Read Era 1 of Mistborn, decided to write this fanfic to take a break before starting on Era 2 and the other Cosmere books. Please, no spoilers for the rest of Sanderson's works!

Crossposted on AO3, that version will probably be the one kept more updated (typos etc) due to easier editing.

Izuku Midoriya was a liar.

He looked over at his completed assignment, staring at the very top of the page. All around him, the classroom was a bustle of activity, his classmates cheering all around now that the surprise quiz that had been sprung on them had concluded.

Name: Izuku Midoriya
Class: 3-3
Quirk: Quirkless

The teacher walked by his desk, and he quickly tore his gaze away from the page, handing it over without a further word. He lay his head against the table, as the chattering continued all around him in the classroom.

Yes, Izuku was a liar. He was not quirkless.

But was it really so bad to lie, if his quirk was less than useless?

The only good side that he had known from using his quirk was that Kacchan's words and beatings didn't hurt him quite as much as it should. For that, he supposed he should be grateful.

"Alright, class, settle down," the teacher said, arranging the collected answer sheets at the teacher's desk. "Now, then. As this test very clearly reminds you, all of you are third years now." She glared at a few choice members of the class, the ones who were still spending most of their time slacking off, and they grinned sheepishly.

"You need to start thinking seriously about your future! I will be handing out these career forms for you to carefully consider your options, but –" He sighed, as though having gone through this many times before. "I assume that many of you here are going to be heroes."

That got an immediate reaction from the class. Sparks flew in the air, smoke trailed vapours out of the window, limbs and extremities morphed into all sorts of shapes, amid the displays of a dozen other quirks. Izuku merely stared at his desk meekly, hoping that no one would pay attention to him, as he pushed his latest Hero Analysis for the Future slightly further under his desk.

He didn't know why he still bothered with it, if he was being honest with himself. He had a quirk, and it was useless for hero work. It was useless for almost every context he could think of, save for letting himself take the bullying that had been directed at him throughout middle school without breaking.

There wasn't much else he could do, anyway. If he revealed the true nature of his quirk, the bullying would only intensify. At least Kacchan had mostly stopped bothering him, since Izuku was now more discrete in keeping his pipe dreams for the future to himself.

"Oi, class!" the teacher scolded, regaining control of the class. "Behave yourself! You all have wonderful quirks, but don't use them in school or in public!"

Izuku heard a loud snort from behind him, and he stiffened reflexively, before forcing himself to relax. "Sensei! Don't lump me in with those losers!" He could recognise Katsuki Bakugou's voice anywhere. "As if I had anything like their crappy quirks!"

That, of course, prompted a loud rebuttal from the class, and a prompt retaliation from Kacchan. He was used to that by now.

"Bakugou! That's enough!" the teacher warned sternly. He paused for a moment, eyeing him, before continuing once he was satisfied. "You must be aiming for Yuuei High School?"

Yes, Bakugou was probably the only one in their class who had a realistic chance of attending Yuuei. He had a powerful quirk, on a level above the other potential hero candidates of his class. Below them on the totem pole were those with quirks suited to support roles – logistics, administrative matters, surveillance – less flashy quirks, but altogether necessary for heroism.

Of course, lowest on the hierarchy was him – the quirkless kid. The Deku.

"Of course I am! And shut up, you extras!" he declared, rising to his feet and looking challengingly around the class. "I'm the only one who's entering Yuuei, and I'll surpass All Might and become the best hero there is!"

Again, that sent the others in their class into an outrage. The only thing that could possibly unite them and Kacchan was –

"Oh, Midoriya! You're aiming for Yuuei as well, aren't you?"

He had been quietly expecting it, but he still flinched at that, as all heads turned toward him as one. He couldn't fault his sensei for revealing that titbit Izuku had told him during their private guidance session – Sensei tried his best to be supportive, no matter how unlikely the possibility was. He tried his best to include Izuku into the class, even though it was clear he wasn't close to the rest, and he couldn't blame the man for his good intentions.

"What, One Yen Midoriya?"

"No way!"

"Good grades alone won't get you to the Hero Program!"

He braced himself, fingering the coin in his pocket, wondering whether or not he needed to put his quirk to use. He considered briefly, then decided against it. With Sensei taking charge, even Kacchan couldn't go too far out of hand.

"Deku!" Kacchan gave the expected response, almost snarling at him with rage. "You still think you can compare with me, you piece of shit? Forget these extras with crappy quirks," he said, gesturing behind him broadly. "You don't even have a quirk!"

"Bakugou!" the teacher roared. "That's enough!"

Bakugou glared at Izuku for a moment longer, but finally obeyed Sensei's words. Izuku winced. He knew what was going to happen after class.

I only just wrote this up this, too, he thought, thumbing the notebook under his desk.

It was a good thing he saved his quirk, though. He was running out of one-yen coins.

-o-o-o-

"DEKU!"

He had tried making a quick exit from school, but alas he had been spotted. He braced himself, turning around to face an irate Bakugou, his hanger-ons eagerly waiting by his side.

They had been friends, once. Izuku didn't know whether Bakugou's resentment was because he couldn't uphold his end of their childhood promise of becoming heroes, or if he simply hated him for what he reminded Bakugou of his past. Of being friends with a weakling.

Again, Izuku couldn't blame him. He knew, rationally, that there was no chance he could be a hero, not with his quirk. Perhaps if he were quirkless, he had the excuse of blindly hoping that one day his quirk would manifest, but even now he still refused to face reality.

"What was that shit?" Bakugou stormed up to him, a series of miniature explosions sparking from his palm. Nitro-glycerine sweat was a potent ability. "I saw you squirming in class! You're still making those damn books of yours, aren't you?"

There wasn't a point in hiding it away. He knew from past experience that if he didn't reply truthfully and hand over the book dutifully, all the contents of his bag would be burnt to a crisp, rather than just the one book. And so, he wordlessly took out the book, head hung low, as he passed it to Bakugou.

"You little piece of shit," he said, voice intoned low, snatching it away from Izuku's hands. "You're still hanging on to this silly dream of yours? Get real, Deku! You're not even an extra! You'll never be a hero!"

Right, then. Now was the time to put his quirk to use. He kept his eyes low, head down, as his fingers dug into his pocket and withdrew a single item. He never bothered explaining why he did it, since doing so would require explaining his quirk and making the bullying intensify.

"He's doing it again!" he heard someone point out, laughing. "One Yen Midoriya is at it again!"

He fiddled with the one-yen coin in his hand, and let his quirk flow.

Immediately, he felt a bizarre sensation take hold, one he had never gotten used to despite having used this quirk many times since he had first discovered it on accident at the age of eight. It felt numb, yet not physically nor emotionally so. It didn't lessen the pain from him being sent sprawling onto the floor by Bakugou's forceful backhand, nor did it stop the tears from flowing as he watched Hero Analysis for the Future be burnt in front of his very eyes – more from soot and smoke, however, than any actual emotional attachment.

"You shitty Deku!" Bakugou continued shouting, but still he refused to look him in the eye. Bakugou will give up eventually, he thought. He always does.

Yes, his quirk did not lessen the hurt, not in any measurable way. What it did, however, was make it as though it wasn't Izuku Midoriya's dreams that were being trampled, burnt, shredded, tossed into a bin, or the dozen other ways Bakugou and others who decided to follow his lead had done before.

If he had a word to describe it, his quirk made things feel distant. Impersonal. It was the only reason why he could still continue clinging on to the notion that maybe one day he could become a hero, no matter how unlikely the possibility was.

At last, Bakugou finished his tirade, throwing the still smoking vestiges of his dreams onto the floor. Izuku knew that all signs of opposition to Bakugou's words would have left him, since he couldn't feel any emotion related to the sight of the now ruined book save that it was a ruined book.

It's just a book, after all. Who cares?

Bakugou glared at him for a moment longer. "Wake the hell up, you One Yen Deku," he shot a final parting sentence, spat at the smouldering remains of his book, and then left.

He let the flow continue for a moment longer, until Bakugou was out of sight, and the blackened book had stopped trailing wisps of soot.

Then, he cut the connection, tossed the coin aside, and felt the weight of his crushed dreams return in full force.

That was his quirk. It only worked with a one-yen coin – not five-yen, not ten, nor fifty, nor a hundred. Only one yen.

His quirk was a reminder that one yen was all that his dreams were worth. He was the one-yen Deku, a useless person, worthless. He had never bothered revealing to anyone how his quirk worked, not even his mother. Despite all the research he had done on the quirks of heroes and villains, even the ordinary everyday people, he had never heard of a quirk more useless than the one he had.

As he clutched the remnants of his hard work on his hands, he thought that perhaps he had been given this quirk just so that he could cope with the knowledge that he could never become a hero. Perhaps it was all just some cosmic practical joke.

-o-o-o-

As the villain enveloped his body of ichor around him, Izuku was thankful that he had the presence of mind to reach for one of the few one-yen coins remaining in his pocket. He flooded it with whatever his quirk was.

It didn't stop the agony of suffocation in the slightest, nor did it make him any less fearful of the thought of his impending doom. He struggled valiantly, of course, but what could someone who was less than quirkless do against a villain like that?

At the very least, his death would impersonal to him this way. He was no one, an empty shell of a body, behaving on pure instinct as he warred with the overwhelming force of the villain with a body of slime.

That was how his quirk worked: in the end, all that was Izuku Midoriya was worth exactly one yen – no more, no less. He didn't have to deal with the thought that he would die never achieving his dreams, nor those who Izuku Midoriya would leave behind. He would just be yet another human departing this earth, a victim of fortune and misfortune that governed all.

One yen. The cool metal in his hand was a calming thought, even as his other hand desperately tried to rip away the liquid still trying to burrow its way into his mouth on pure survival instinct.

Then, there was a loud thump of metal, a rush of air, a shockwave of force and a cry of pain, and Izuku was suddenly free. He gasped, the coin having been forced out of his grip, cutting off the effects of his quirk, and he felt all the fear and despair of nearly dying without ever having accomplished anything meaningful intensify in a flash. It took another second before relief flooded him, that yes, he wasn't dead, and holy crap is that All Might standing in front of him?

"Kid!" All Might's powerful voice bellowed, leaning down low to his level. "Kid! Are you alright?"

It was All Might, in the flesh. His smile seemed as though to wash away all fear he had, to inform him that yes, everything would be alright, because he was the Symbol of Peace.

"Hey! Hey, respond!" he spoke more urgently, and Izuku finally had the presence of mind to reply.

"A- All Might!" he squeaked. Part of him still disbelieved that this was really happening.

"Excellent!" his voice boomed, standing tall and proud, just as he always did on the television. "Apologies for being caught in my villain hunt. This one here proved slippery," he said, gesturing to the bottle held in his hands, a sinister-looking liquid moving and thumping against the sides. "But my success here is all thanks to you, young hero! I've contained the villain!"

…he was every bit the hero that Izuku knew him to be. It was his inspiration that pushed him on with his dream, to be the one that saved people by leaping into burning buildings and fighting off villains with chainsaws for arms without any regard for his own life.

All Might was the hero, and the sole reason why he still believed in his dream.

It was why Izuku couldn't turn down the opportunity to ask the question that had haunted him ever since he first realised how his quirk worked, all those years ago.

"All Might! Can I ask a question?" The words tumbled out of his mouth.

"Hmm?" He had been bending low, about to leap off into the distance. "Sorry, kid, but I need to bring this one to the authorities! I'd love to stay, but as every hero knows, one must battle not only villains but time –"

"Just one! Please!"

He couldn't believe that he had just interrupted All Might, and he was about to apologise hurriedly for wasting his time, for even thinking that One Yen Deku could have a moment of his time, but then All Might did the impossible.

He looked down at his watch, hesitated for a moment, before flashing him a bright, genuine smile.

"Very well, young one! What is your question?"

"Can someone without a quirk become a hero like you?"

This was it. If even All Might didn't think that a quirkless had what it took, then Izuku knew that his dreams had to end here.

All Might paused for a moment, his smile straining slightly, and Izuku knew then and there what the reply would be.

"A Pro Hero must always be willing to risk his life," he said slowly, but also empathically, knowing how every word stabbed at Izuku. "A hero must always know that it is his ability that people's lives hinge on. Without a quirk…" he hesitated, then let the words come slowly, gently, and yet somehow firmly. "No, I should think not."

Izuku suspected as much.

"I see…" he said, then bowed to All Might. "Thank you very much for your time."

Izuku saw how genuinely empathetic and concerned All Might was, and for that, he was thankful. The Hero stood there for a moment longer, looking as though he wanted to say more words, but then glanced at his watch again.

"I'm afraid I must be off," he said.

Izuku could barely muster the strength to nod, and with a final parting look of a strange emotion, All Might took off.

Even All Might didn't think he could do it. And he was right; if a hero didn't have a quirk and tried to save others, it wouldn't just be his life at stake. Trying to be a hero while quirkless and powerless was selfish, at best.

Being quirkless was not something to be ashamed of. His father was quirkless, and he still met mum, and together they had him, as mum had tried encouraging him many times before.

He knew all that. He had heard it a thousand times before, from Bakugou, from his classmates, and from himself. It was the rational thought, and yet…

Why was it that he couldn't stop the tears from falling?

For an instant, he felt the impulse to take his one yen coin, to let the weight of his shattered dreams fall away once more, but then decided against it. He had to do this. He had to accept reality.

He was One Yen Deku, someone whose quirk was to lose his sense of self by dumping it in a one-yen coin, and he could never be a hero.

-o-o-o-

He didn't know how long he had been sitting on the park bench for, fiddling with the coin in his hand. It had taken a long time for the tears to stop flowing, and even though he wasn't actively using his quirk at the moment, he still felt empty. Hollow.

He hadn't wanted to go home just yet. He had wandered off aimlessly, eventually making his way to the bench he now sat on, thinking.

Izuku had to face reality, however. It wasn't just Bakugou or his classmates telling him that his endeavour was pointless anymore. He stared at the charred remnants of the book in front of him. He was meant to have disposed of that quite some time ago.

He sighed, and let his quirk flow once more, and his crushed dreams felt strangely disconnected once more.

Just a while longer, he thought to himself. Let me just hang on to it a while longer.

He cut the connection once he felt the rising emotion dull once more. It rushed back as a tide, but it at least was now back to manageable levels.

The writing wasn't legible anymore. Bakugou made sure of that. The bundle of paper in front of him wasn't worth even one yen in the state that it was.

At least there's something more worthless than me, he thought grimly, smiling wryly to himself. We make a good pair.

"Kid!"

He snapped out of his contemplation, facing forward once more, turning toward the voice. He blinked in surprise at the sight of an almost skeletal-looking man, tall and lanky with barely any meat on his bones, looking at him with concern. He held an ice cream in each hand, offering one to Izuku.

"Kid," he said, sounding concerned. "Are you alright?"

Well, we do make an odd pair, he thought, looking at the frail man. Izuku hesitated for a moment, wondering what he should do, thinking of what a sore sight he must have been to warrant the gaunt man's attention. He continued smiling warmly at Izuku, his hand remaining outstretched, and Izuku felt compelled to take it.

"Thank you," he muttered, as the man sat down next to him on the bench.

For several long moments, he didn't talk. He didn't even pick at the offered food, just staring at his lap, as he had been doing for what felt like a long time.

"What's got you down, kid?" the man asked, concerned.

Izuku didn't look him in the eye, but he felt like he needed to speak. He had to give up on his dreams, he knew. This was the first step to acceptance.

"I –" he began saying, then stopped, fighting back the tears that were beginning to return with a fury.

"Kid?"

He forced himself to turn to face the other man. Now that he could see his face, Izuku's first thought of him was that he was kind. He wasn't like the kids in school, who picked on him for being useless, nor was he like mum, who never once looked down upon him.

This man's smile was of a different sort from All Might's, but he knew that if he spoke, the man would listen.

"I met All Might today," he said, his voice only catching slightly. How strange. He wouldn't have ever believed he would be saying those words, much less with such a bittersweet pang to it.

The man waited patiently for him to continue, never once judging, never once forcing him to do anything. "He saved my life. A – a villain was about to kill me. All Might showed up, and he saved my life."

It had finally struck him a few hours ago just what kind of situation he had been in. Had All Might been only a minute late, Izuku would have died right then and there. It was proof that the quirkless had no place in actively participating in hero work on the front lines.

"I asked him a question," he said, shutting his eyes at the memory. "I asked if someone who was quirkless like me could become a hero. He told me –" He hesitated, and he felt tempted to bring the flow of his quirk back once more, but decided against it. This was his reality now. No more running away. "He told me that it wasn't possible."

"That's so rude of him!" the other man shouted. "Don't listen to him, kid! If you want to be a hero –"

"He's right," Izuku interrupted, opening his eyes. Declaring that out loud didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. The other man looked surprised – shocked, even – but Izuku continued. "All Might… if he hadn't showed up, I would have died. He's right. Someone without a quirk can't be a hero."

"Kid…"

"I – I lied to All Might, earlier," he blurted out. Now that he had finally begun to accept it, he couldn't keep the words from coming out. Izuku had to tell the man just what had happened, if only just so that he could rationalise to himself out loud. "I actually have a quirk."

"You do?" the man asked, surprised. "But in that case, you can be a hero, too!"

"My quirk is useless," Izuku said, smiling in spite of himself. He showed the man the one-yen coin. "I don't understand how it really works, but… when I use my quirk, something moves from me into a one-yen coin. My dreams, my aspirations, everything that is me… I feel it all drain away," he explained himself to the man, speaking aloud for the first time as to just how his quirk worked. "I become just a nameless, dreamless, meaningless human in this wide world."

Perhaps it was how frail the other man looked, that perhaps Izuku felt a sense of kinship with him. Perhaps it was just that he had run away for too long, and now needed to face reality. Perhaps it was both, or neither. Still, he said his piece.

"One Yen Midoriya," he said. "One Yen Deku. That's what the kids at school call me. It's all my quirk is worth."

There. He had admitted it aloud. He flicked the one-yen coin away.

"All Might was right," he said, standing up, ice cream clutched in one hand, Hero Analysis in the other. He smiled in reassurance at the skeletal-looking man, who looked conflicted. "I should thank him. He finally helped me face reality."

He took a deep breath, and tossed the book into the bin next to the bench. It was done.

"Thank you," he said, bowing deeply. "For listening. And for the ice cream."

With that, his chest simultaneously feeling both heavy and empty, he left the other man alone, and began walking home.

-o-o-o-

Toshinori Yagi didn't know what to think about the boy. All he could do was stare at him as he slowly walked away in the distance, before becoming lost in the crowd.

He had seen the boy from earlier sitting alone on the park bench after he turned the villain into the station. He felt guilty for the words he had spoken to him that had clearly made him upset, and had hoped to talk to him. He had expected him to only have angry words to say about All Might, but it had turned out to be the complete opposite.

It was almost cruel. Not only did the boy have a quirk, he had one that made him as good as quirkless. Which was the better alternative, Toshinori didn't know.

Toshinori cursed how he had found himself tongue-tied as the boy spoke his mind. He could talk to the reporters, project an image of peace, to smile just as his sensei had taught him, and yet he couldn't find the right words to bring comfort to a boy whose dreams had just been trampled on.

Should he have done differently? If he had told the boy not to give up on his dreams, would that have been the right decision? Would that have brought him hope?

Or would that hope merely have led him to his death? Would he have ended up like his sensei?

Toshinori didn't know. By the time he finally knew what to say, the boy had stood up, thanked him for destroying every dream he had, and left him alone on the bench.

One thing was for sure. Talking to that boy, watching him accept the reality of his situation – he didn't feel like a hero.

I won't be a hero much longer, he was reminded of that, clutching the scar in his abdomen by force of habit. Already, he had almost revealed his true form to the boy, earlier. More than ever, he knew that he needed to find a successor, and fast. People like that boy needed a Hero of Justice to protect them, and he wasn't sure if he could be that person for much longer.

Perhaps Nezu and Sasaki were right. Perhaps he should choose his successor among those currently in Yuuei. Something held him back.

He didn't know why he still hesitated, when even a child like that boy had the courage to move on.

Yes. All Might didn't feel like a hero that day.