Heya, nice to meet you guys.

Disclaimer: BNHA ain't mine

Lemme know what you think of the story. Please excuse the grammatical mistakes (I get lazy to review it after I write. Else, couldya mention em if you want to). I hope you like the story :3

Chapter 1

To Live a Lucid Dream and Wake Up Crashing to Reality

Midoriya Izuku was a quirkless boy, a revelation that seemingly crashed the dreams, hopes and the world the boy hoped himself to be a part of in the future.

The forest haired child stared skull-shocked as the doctor told his mom that he could find no quirk or gift whatsoever in the child. His hands were a standstill, frozen from its past enthusiasm- he would have cheered in utter anticipation for the power he would have beheld. His body followed, still unwilling to face the present and the future it deemed on him.

His vision flashed multiple images of heroes with different quirks, their supporters and technicians who weld powers, regardless of how flashy or seemingly innocuous they looked like. He thought that regardless of what he would have, he could utilize its potential to its complete extent to help people.

His mother was uncharacteristically loud. The usually meek yet happy woman seemed oddly distraught at something- she was demanding, asking, begging for a second examination. Something must have gone wrong with the examination. This must have all been a big mistake.

Maybe her baby boy could have a more detailed diagnosis. It didn't matter how expensive it would be- maybe the doctor would change his mind after something popped up in a more detailed examination. Maybe it was a misdiagnosis, equipment failure or some other kind of error.

Yet, the doctor remained firm. He was sure.

This... this was reality.

Sometimes life dealt you with bad cards. But you've still gotta play.

The greenette's hands finally unpaused itself, opting to fidget about for something in thin air. It was a practised motion- he was looking for a book to jot down his storming thoughts. It buzzed loudly in his head, making him feel like he would soon hallucinate the sounds of an angry beehive.

Data about heroes, plans about how he would make the world a better place, information about villains, his to be costumes and hero name... All jotted down in ink, but not present for him to add his newest circumstance and the possible contingency plans. It represented his future- non-existent - like his quirks.

The doctor's pitying looks were cast upon him, while his mother looked frantically hysteric. She was tightly clenching her wrist with enough force to leave a bruise... like she was punishing herself for having the genetic disposition to put her treasure into this ugly scenario.

Her eyes swam around in urgency as she was frantically thinking of anything she could do to salvage this situation. No doubt, her mind was flashing back to the countless number of times her son chirped about his future heroics- his eyes sparkling. It was a stark contrast to what her precious child looked like now with his rapidly dimming eyes, as it dawned upon him about what this all would mean to him.

It was at this time that she loathed the fact that her child was extremely intelligent. It seemed like darkness had seeped from the bottom of his eyes and slowly draped itself languidly on his small shoulders, as it sagged with the weight of the present and the burdens that his fate had bestowed upon him.

Midoriya was unresponsive even as she had fled from the hospital, to seek shelter in the comfort of their home. The quiet and stillness were fraying her already short and tense nerves. Her ears became extremely sensitive as they strained to hear sobs or words of some sort. Her own eyes felt blurry as tears fogged her vision.

When they reached home, the boy dashed into his room and ran straight to his computer. The child was feverously looking through the internet.

The next day, Midoriya decided to break the news to Kacchan and their pals. He felt that things might be better if he confided in them- that he would know that he was making a mountain out of a molehill as he had always done.

Kacchan would know what to do. He was always brave and heroic and he could easily take on anything and everything that could happen to him or anyone else. The boy was resilient, courageous, bold and smart. He had once reassured Izuku that he could become his side-kick on many occasions.

"I went to the clinic yesterday... to get my quirk evaluated-" but he somehow couldn't will himself to continue. His throat had something lodged in itself. It made it hard for him to breathe, let alone speak.

Bakugo looked at the red-faced brat in front of him and smiled mockingly, "What? Did the guy say that you got something really lame? Well, that's Izuku for you.". The other two kids prodded the greenette hoping for something embarrassing enough for the books, their imagination going wild.

"So? Spit it out already!" the bomber teased, feeling impatient. His 'requests' always had a way of making Midoriya feel like he simply just had to respond, and he whispered-

"I'm quirkless."

Then silence reigned. It was so oppressive that Midoriya's head bowed down from the weight of its gravity. But his curiosity egged him on to take a peek at his friend's face.

The betrayal that painted the blond's face made him snap his head up. His body immediately tensed as the three he had confided had looks of derision, with Bakugo's wrathful face made a keening buzz which rang loudly right next to his ear. He didn't know what the other said, but it felt like time was slowing down until he was the only one left in the streets.

His ears burned with something and he felt like he was choking on something. He dazedly thought that he would be late to school if he stood there any longer, so he plodded onwards with heavy footsteps.

His entry into his classroom was welcomed with an unpleasant surprise. All eyes were on him as he heard the remnant of the conversation. Turns out, the other two friends of his found the revelation to be extremely worthy of gossip- enough for them to loudly announce and share it with the rest of his classmates. After all, there was the well known saying, 'Sharing is caring'.

Things changed from that day.

Anytime Midoriya volunteered for anything, his classmates would guffaw and giggle, amused by the idea that he could accomplish something anymore. The very notion that he could help them out in some way was hilarious. In their school's sports festival, the teacher straight up ignored his participation, thinking that the one quirkless guy couldn't meaningfully contribute to their festival. The kid would probably get injured in the first second and get his parent to fuss over the school's safety programme.

He had spent days investigating everything about their each and every quirks to exploit their habits and little tidbits so that he wouldn't pull them down with him. He wasn't even planning on letting his mom know that he'd be taking part to escape the obvious refusal. He was adept in concealing anything that would happen to him. He wasn't a burden. He swore that he wouldn't be a burden to society. On the contrary, he planned to be the one to lift their burden...

Bakugo snapped horribly when Midoriya dared to utter that he would still become a hero, despite being quirkless. The explosive boy would look at him like he was a goddamn idiot that looked down on the notion of being a hero like he was downright disrespecting the profession and insulting the other.

"You're a fucking Deku. You're delusional if you're still saying you want to be a hero. You even idiotically wrote that on the career aspiration form that the teacher gave us. Change it. That teacher didn't have the guts to tell that to you face to face. That guy told me to 'advice' you cos he thinks we're friends or something.

Stop pulling me in your mess, idiot. And change that from now on, so that this doesn't repeat from now on."

"N-no!"

"What did you say, Deku?! Did you just talk back to me and with that kind of nonsense?!"

It was his conviction. He wrote it in writing as an oath that, that was what he would become- regardless of what die life rolled out for him.

"Deku! I'll do you a favor and pretend that I was deaf the past ten seconds. Now, what did you say you'll do?"

"K-kacchan. I'm still going to apply to UA-"

"What part of being quirkless do you not get?! Getting good grades sure hasn't gotten you to fucking wisen up! Idiots like you won't get it until someone beats some sense into you!"

Why did it turn out that this one goal of him made him out to seem downright senseless in front of other people? When people said that nothing is impossible when his mind supplied solutions after solutions as it ran itself ragged to help him with a dream that was transforming into an obsession. Hearing objections, whether voiced out loud or from their body language, left and right- it made him think of even those lifeboats that his brain supplied, as mirages; deceptive illusions.

"What are you even going to do? What advantage could you have against a person with quirks? Deku, I'll spell it out for you so. You know how people like us are different from you? We're you, plus the quirks. Anything you can do, we can do, and plus ultra" the explosive boy quipped sarcastically.

"N-no, Kacchan. I can still do something. I've been training. I'm also spending more time developing my mind-"

"You think that by somehow working to your death, you'll somehow become superhuman?! Do you even get what 'super human' means? That somehow, by working your ass off, you'll break through your biological limits and 'get a quirk'?

You'll be a fucking liability and you're worse than a civilian!

You creepily stalk and act like you read each and every one of us and yet, with all that data you've snooped off of us, you can't even see the gap between us?! Are you underestimating me?! You?!"

The two of them were once from the same mould- having the same goal. The two would have done anything and everything in their means to reach their goal. But now, it seemed like the one thing that separated them, gave the other tinted shades that warped anything and everything the former did.

A deep fracture broke between the two. Midoriya remained the same, even after the diagnosis. But Bakugo couldn't see him beyond his label of being quirkless. In fact, none of his school mates nor his teachers could.

Midoriya's passion for discussing heroes and quirks and his penchant of going into their in-depth analysis had to be confined to his books. This was because his classmates couldn't take his words seriously anymore as they heard him superficially while seeing the hilarity of a person of his disposition speaking so intimately about the topic. Bakugo made his ire more apparent.

"What can the quirkless Deku have to talk about heroes?! It's not even related to you! So just shut up!"

"If I want to hear about heroes, I'll hear it from someone who actually has the one thing needed to even put himself in those shoes. And that ain't you."

"Watching TV and documents about a hero won't get you any closer to being one. You can stuff that worthless brain of yours completely with everything about heroes, down to what underwear they wear every day- but I swear, it's not going to get you to ever a minuscule closer!"

"Tell you what, there hasn't been anyone from the hero association or any hero that's quirkless. And it's not going to start with you either!"

"You better quit it with the books, or I'll take that and shove it so deep into you, you'll be shitting paper for the next three days!

If there's anything you'll be in the future, it'd be a professional creep, aka, a stalker."

Disproval dripped like poison from Bakugo's tongue. The explosion user was armed with approval from everyone around him, only further bolstering him- making his words venomous, and his actions more and more dangerous. Was Midoriya pushing him to his very limits and testing his very limited patience? Or was it the other way around?

Midoriya couldn't get a break, even in his own house. Midoriya Inko walked on eggshells with him, trying to cater to anything he said he wanted. She stopped scolding him and even tried offering anything his eyes lingered on.

It was nerve-wracking. She was trying to compensate him, but Midoriya wanted to desperately believe that he hadn't lost anything, despite the various wounds and burns that his classmates and his ex-friends gave him, in retaliation to his stance. They had raised their fists, infuriated and riled on by his stubbornness; he couldn't defend himself. It was as appalling as hearing a person insist that the world was flat.

He pretended that he couldn't see the obvious pity that the adults around him gave him, nor that he could see the spotlight that society put on him for being such an underwhelming anomaly.

He instead opted to bury himself into books, documentaries and reports about heroes- anything hero related. His eyes drank up any little idiosyncrasy they adopted. He vividly, vicariously lived his life through theirs.

But then, once... He sat numbly in front of his computer in the dark. Books, papers, newspapers, reports, storage devices about heroes laid haphazardly all over his floor. At that time, his lovely mother entered the pitch dark room. Light peered through the gap to fall on the face of a desperate little boy.

The child opened his big emerald eyes, which looked bloodshot as his mind stood trembling in front of the truth. It was on its last stand, teetering and shambling with pain. His raspy voice quivered as he spoke-

"Hey, mom? Do you think even I could be a hero?"

Doubt niggled and bit into his mind, sinking its fangs deep into his psyche. He had lived up to this day, with it eating him alive. It was a gluttonous little thing.

There were two paths in front of him. One of an underdog, or one of a madman who refused to listen to reason. Lately, he was feeling like his mind was the one being driven to the depths of insanity.

His mother teared up along with him, as tears shone and dribbled down his cheek reflecting how his grief was flooding out at last. She ran towards him for a bone-crushing hug.

And then proceeded to apologize fervently.

"I'm so sorry, Izuku" she sobbed like a grave sinner pleading with the gods for a tiny bit of mercy. her tears flooded as it became clear that she was lamenting his fate, having long accepted it and having cemented it -engraved it deep within his very being.

He felt like the hell he was put on wouldn't even put on the appearance of giving him a thin, spider thread to climb out off with.

There were no pleasantries, no excuses, no wishful or hopeful thinking, no mollycoddling and no pacifying him. She simply laid out the truth for him.

Then...

He would choose to be blind.