So I accidentally jammed my finger and had to get stitches which have kept me from being able to write anything for my long fic. Hopefully you enjoy this one shot I wrote a while ago in the meantime :)

It took Izuku a while to figure out what was going on after Aizawa-sensei handed him the ball, and even when he did, he still felt disoriented and empty.

My quirk, he held in the shriek that began accumulating in his throat, just barely sliding past the gasp and the sob. It's… it's gone?!

The feeling of emptiness reminded him of before. Izuku never knew how full he had felt until this moment. When, standing there, stripped bare of what had made him useful, what had given him a chance, was taken from him.

In an instant.

It happened so fast he barely had a chance to breathe. And when he opened his eyes again, Izuku was no longer standing outside with all the others in the UA fields. His classmate's curious faces were replaced by all of the people who used to torment him at Aldera. Kacchan was still there of course, looming in the background, but the other bullies were front and center, watching him with disgusted sneers.

They all approached him at once, yelling at him, accusing him of thinking he could ever become something special. His quirk was nothing but a sham, a fake. It didn't belong to him. It never would. All Might was amazing and wonderful and powerful, something Izuku would never get to be. And they were all telling him this, yelling at him to make sure he got it through his thick-skull.

You're so useless, Deku.

Why can't you understand?

You'll never be a hero.

Without that quirk you're nothing.

You'll always be nothing.

You'll never belong no matter where you go.

You'll never escape because you will always be

quirkl e s s

They were closer now, wrapping around his body— why did he feel so constrained? Izuku couldn't move and felt like crying out, but it was as if his lips were sealed together with glue.

No, no! Izuku wanted to scream and watched in horror as Kacchan stepped forward and plucked a green hair from Izuku's head.

Stop— he tried to move, but again, something kept him bound.

Don't do this.

"Let me take it," the blonde said slowly, eyes narrowed and dangerously evil, glimmering with all the malicious intent in the world. Izuku had never been afraid of Kacchan before. He knew the blonde would never hurt him. But if he took the one thing that made Izuku feel like he had a chance then…

"You don't deserve this, Deku. You don't deserve this power. Give it back or let me take it," Kacchan growled as he twirled the strand of hair in his hands. Soon everyone else was reaching over and plucking pieces of hair from Izuku's head, tugging him here and there, all while he remained unmoving and powerless.

"No! Stop, please. Don't take it away, please don't do this," Izuku gasped out, trying to push them away. They simply continued to laugh and take, laugh and take.

Finally, Kacchan stepped in front of him again and instead of eating the hair, he set the strand on fire. The whole world was on fire.

Izuku's eyes widened in horror as he desperately tried to get away.

"You'll never be a hero, Deku. Remember this."

And then he was back at UA, standing in front of more than a dozen worried faces.

"Midoriya?" Aizawa-sensei asked.

Izuku jumped slightly and almost dropped the ball in his hands. For a moment, he thought it was on fire. He glanced down at it again and swallowed the lump in his throat all while his heart continued thumping violently in his chest.

"Midoriya, did you hear what I said?"

The ball throw test. That's right. I messed up the first time. Aizawa-sensei is letting me go again after he took my quirk. He took my quirk, Izuku gripped the ball suddenly and tried to activate One for All. Much to his relief, the familiar jagged green and red appeared along his skin, but it didn't feel the same. He still felt… empty. He felt wrong.

"Y-yes, Sensei," Izuku breathed out, but he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. If he stayed, if he tried to use his quirk again, he would only fail. Kacchan was right. Aizawa-sensei was right. They were all right. Even his body knew it.

Before Aizawa could say anything else, Izuku ran away.

All Might tried to stop him at some point along the way, but Izuku didn't slow down to answer him. In fact, after seeing him, Izuku pushed himself to run faster, willing his legs to take him somewhere far away so the feeling wouldn't catch up to him again, the guilt that he was undeserving and weak. The emptiness.

He could hear the voices of his classmates now, the new ones from Class 1-A, taunting him as he went.

Poor, useless, Deku.

Always such a Deku.

You'll never be a hero. Remember this.

Izuku tripped and fell, scraping his hands and knees. He only knew they were bleeding because it stung and when he wiped at his face he could taste the blood.

His heart was still thumping loudly in his chest and while he could feel One for All tingling all throughout his body, as if trying to reassure him that it was still there, he still felt the emptiness.

"It's okay, it's okay," he told himself while tucking in his knees. "You still have it," Izuku glanced down at his hands, "it's still here."

But that wasn't enough. He had to know. He had to try it. He had to see if he still had his quirk…

Izuku reached out and punched a hole in the wall.

—

In all his time as a teacher at UA, no, in all his time as a pro hero, Shouta had seen various reactions to his Erasure, but none quite like this. Midoriya's body had gone abnormally still and his eyes glazed over as if he wasn't paying attention anymore, as if he wasn't fully there, which in the short few hours Shouta had been around him, seemed certainly out of character.

If Midoriya hadn't been asking those around him questions about their quirks while they walked towards the field— prodding and poking with a chewed up pencil in one hand and a notebook in the other— he had been mumbling to himself and staring at his worn out red shoes, or the flicker of Ojiro's tail, the shiny metallic glint of Jirou's ear jacks maybe. Even while Shouta asked Bakugou to demonstrate his ball throw and Midoriya had gone silent like all the rest, Shouta could see the wheels turning inside the boy's head, watching as his fingers twitched with a phantom desire to reach for his notebook. A lifeline.

But if Midoriya had been possessed by his desire to learn and absorb then, now he had been taken over and consumed by a different ghost, one who held onto his body more firmly than Shouta's capture scarf ever could. One that left him looking dead. There was no more startling brightness in those viridescent colored eyes, no more sparkle and shine. Just a half-lidded gaze, submissive posture somehow worse than the one he wore before, and a slight tremble to Midoriya's words when Shouta finally let him go and told him to try again.

"Y-yes, Sensei," the boy breathed out but Shouta barely heard him.

He should have known, damnit. Shouta should have known that from the moment Midoriya stepped away, from the moment he gave him his quirk back, that things wouldn't go back to normal. Nothing would change. Something major had shifted and cracked a hole in the ground from the moment Midoriya's quirk was taken from him. The boy had ruptured. Midoriya Izuku had come undone and fallen through the cracks.

Even as the child attempted to become himself once more, Shouta could tell he was struggling. There was not a point in time where he looked up, not even once; Midoriya's eyes remained firmly locked on the ground. His eyelashes were thick and crumpled together, which made it hard to see his eyes, but Shouta knew by their erratic fluttering like a kind of broken butterfly's wings, that the boy was doing his best not to cry, blinking back tears but failing miserably to keep his body from shaking.

Midoriya's hand tightened around the ball. The pro hero gripped his own hands too, balling a significant amount of fabric from his scarf and tightening it around his wrist while he tried to understand. For a moment, it looked like the problem child was going to try again. Despite everything, Shouta managed to see a brief flash of green that quickly disappeared along his fingertips.

Then he was gone.

Midoriya took off in the other direction and the look he gave Shouta before he left was enough to gut him in the stomach. It left him breathless, speechless, and more than confused. Midoriya had made his choice, it seemed, Shouta's own words echoing back at him.

Last place today gets expelled.

But that hardly seemed important anymore.

Why had Midoriya reacted that way to his quirk? Why had he looked so scared?

Shouta had expected that Midoriya would fail. He had watched him during the entrance exam as he recklessly threw himself in front of the robot and punched the hell out of it with a power that seemed a lot similar to the Symbol of Peace.

Where was that boy now?

Midoriya had failed in a way the pro hero had never expected, even if he hadn't known him long, even if he still didn't understand. Because why was Shouta's quirk the thing that scared Midoriya off? Was it even that? Or was there something else? It didn't make any sense. It wasn't logical. And Shouta hated things that weren't logical.

Shouta forgot about the rest of his new class and it took the rumble of conversation from the remaining teens to shake him out of his stupor, the speculation that came from 17 mouths who all must have been wondering the same things as him:

"Is Midoriya okay?"

"Sensei, should someone go after him?"

"Maybe he got food poisoning from his lunch."

"Enough. That's enough," Shouta snapped, as he rewrapped his scarf around his neck. His hands continued to grip onto the fabric however as he surveyed the crowd. The very same cloth Midoriya had seemed to fear. Could that be it? Did he have a phobia Shouta didn't know about? Tight spaces? A form of claustrophobia maybe? Shouta gripped his scarf tighter and turned to address his class.

"We will proceed with the exam now."

"But Sensei—"

That was seat no. 5, Ochako Uraraka. Shouta had no doubt she had been the one to speak as his eyes flitted past her form. She had wasted no time in trying to give up her points for Midoriya before and she certainly seemed inclined to vouch for him once again. Was she also as confused as him after seeing what took place with the boy? Did she know about him enough to understand what just happened?

"We will proceed with the exams now," Shouta said once more, silencing her and his own ruminating thoughts. He could feel her spirit being sliced in half as she turned away from him and stared at where Midoriya had run off to with a longing look.

Shouta stared at the building too but quickly turned away, hiding most of his face behind his scarf. Someone else was looking there too.

Bakugou Katsuki, seat no. 17. Shouta couldn't help the eyebrow raise but that was the last bit of attention he gave towards the issue.

Space. He would give the problem child space. Then they would talk.

He glanced down at his roster again.

Midoriya Izuku, seat no. 18.

—

Izuku didn't mean to punch a hole in the wall. Not really. But now he was sitting there on the steps with a bleeding hand that wouldn't stop throbbing, staring into the hole of some kind of office. Thankfully it was empty but he was sure the person it belonged to would be back soon and then he would be expelled. Or thrown in jail. Who knew anymore.

Izuku's arm was probably broken again too.

So much for proving Aizawa-sensei wrong, he slumped slightly in his seat before suddenly tensing up at the thought of his teacher's name.

Eraserhead.

Erase.

To take away.

Izuku had always fanboyed about meeting someone like him, getting a chance to see his quirk up close. He just never imagined it would feel that way. And while it hadn't hurt him physically, the emptiness was worse than any pain he had ever experienced in his life.

"Hello?"

Izuku nearly punched another hole in the wall from surprise at the rat-bear-mouse looking thing in front of him. It wore a suit and had a mug of coffee in one hand and some documents in another. Izuku figured he must be Principal Nedzu and immediately got to his feet.

"I—" he looked in between the tiny rodent and the hole in the wall, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, this time from panic. "—didn't mean to break your wall, sir, uh, Principal Nedzu, sir. I'm so sorry."

One of Nedzu's whiskers twitched as he let out a small laugh. "Quite alright, young man. You must be Midoriya Izuku of Class 1-A, right?"

Izuku's pulse quickened. "Well," he tried not to wince from the pain in his arm, "I was in that class but I think I'm going to get expelled soon."

Nedzu's eyebrows shot right up and Izuku could have sworn he leaned in a little bit. It was hard to tell when the creature was so small. "How peculiar. And what makes you think that? Did Eraserhead-san scare you that badly with his logical ruse? Although I was sure you of all people would pass his little test."

Logical ruse? Izuku blinked a couple of times from confusion as he tried to gather his own words.

"I, um, well you see it's just that—"

"Midoriya, my boy!"

Izuku whipped his head around when he heard All Might and resisted the urge to run over to him. Nedzu stared at the pair curiously and stepped back a little as the larger man filed in. Toshinori-san looked frantic, still in his All Might form, hair wildly sticking out all over the place. Izuku immediately felt bad for pushing him away earlier. The hero was probably worried sick.

"Are you okay?" His eyes dropped to Izuku's arm and widened. "Oh my goodness! Your arm it's—"

"—fine," Izuku finished quietly with a slight tinge to his cheeks. He was well aware of how intently Nedzu was watching the exchange, not bothering to feign innocence as he occasionally took loud sips from his mug.

"His arm is broken! Just like in the exams," Nedzu wasted no time in interjecting and the blush spread throughout Izuku's entire body. Oh great, even the principal knew about his self destructive behaviors? Could this day get any worse?

"Who'd you save this time little hero?" Nedzu asked, full on grinning now as he looked between him and All Might, except Izuku didn't hear a word he said.

Instead, he focused on Aizawa-sensei's glowering form in the corner of the hall. The man stood leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets with his eyes closed. Izuku was pretty sure he was awake judging by his posture. But exactly how long had he been standing there? Despite looking non-threatening and being far away, Izuku still felt his pulse spike up again as he stumbled backwards and almost tripped on the first step.

"Midoriya? Midoriya, what is going on?" All Might asked worriedly before turning to stare at Aizawa-sensei too. "Oh, Aizawa-san. Did you come to check on Young Midoriya as well?"

Izuku held his breath as he waited for an answer.

"No need. Homeroom is over. It ended a while ago. I'll be in the staff room taking a nap," Aizawa started walking and then glanced back at them over his shoulder. "Midoriya," he didn't quite meet his gaze, but focused on him, "go to Recovery Girl. Your arm is broken again."

The disappointment in his tone was obvious and it continued breaking Izuku down. But there was also something else there, something he didn't recognize in the way that Eraserhead spoke. It's what made him rush after him without thinking.

"Sensei, w-wait!"

Izuku didn't know what he was doing, but suddenly he felt ridiculous and embarrassed for the way he had acted earlier. Surely Aizawa-sensei could give him another chance if he just explained.

Aizawa didn't stop walking but Izuku could have sworn he slowed down a little to let him catch up.

"Back there, I—" but then Izuku stopped. Stopped walking. Stopped speaking. Stopped breathing altogether. Because what was he going to say? There's no way Aizawa would understand. And Izuku couldn't tell him the truth, not just about One for All, but about the bullying, about Aldera and his miserable life. About Kacchan. About being quirkless.

There was no way to explain what had gone on in that test and Izuku knew it. So instead, he let his shoulders drop and slumped in defeat. He didn't realize Aizawa was watching him intently until the man spoke.

"Midoriya, are you afraid of me?"

Izuku almost choked on his spit. "Wh-what?" He stammered, glancing up at Aizawa in disbelief because that was the last thing he expected him to say. He was prepared to get told he was getting expelled or being fined for breaking a wall– the principal's wall nonetheless! "Afraid? Of y-you?" Izuku shook his head so fast he got whiplash. "No, no! Why… why would I be—" but he couldn't even finish his sentence without remembering the sensation. The feeling of emptiness. Izuku winced slightly and looked away from Aizawa's piercing gaze.

The man remained emotionless.

"I'm not…" Izuku began, but he knew it was useless. Aizawa had already seen him hesitate.

Still, his former sensei continued to stare. Then, without another word he turned around and started walking again. "Go to the nurse and get your arm fixed. Then we'll talk."

Izuku gnawed on his bottom lip as he watched him move away. "I'm not… you're not going to expel me?"

Aizawa didn't answer him.

—

Fear.

It was a common emotion people faced. Heroes especially.

Shouta tried to instill the fear of failure in his students every year with tricks and deceptions. They had to be ready for anything and surpass their emotions. Otherwise, those very same feelings would swallow them whole and drown them in a black pit of hopelessness.

He had seen it happen time and time again.

He had been through it himself.

After Oboro died—

Shouta didn't let himself finish that thought.

Tons of students didn't make it.

Whether it was because of what they experienced at UA, or what happened when they went out into the field for the first time and began their careers as heroes.

But never had they been scared of him. Intimidated, sure. Full of hate and resentment, probably. But never scared.

Not like Midoriya.

Shouta didn't know how to react when the teen flinched away from him, when his body started to shake. Did the problem child even realize he was shaking?

Shouta thought that with some time the thing, whatever it was, would go away and he and Midoriya could talk. But now after what happened in the hallway, the underground hero didn't know how to go about this anymore. Because now he knew for sure that the reaction from earlier had been directed at him.

But why? Shouta continued to ask himself as he sat at his chair. His sleeping bag remained untouched in the corner of the room, the coffee he had prepared for the long day now cold and still very much full in its cup. For the first time in his life, Shouta didn't need either of them. He was wide awake and frustrated. So much so that he completely missed the quiet knocks until Midoriya's voice appeared behind the door.

"I'm sorry."

It was the first thing the kid said to him when Shouta told him to come in. No surprise there.

"Why are you apologizing, Midoriya?" Shouta asked. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and settled on crossing his arms over his chest instead.

The boy's eyes travelled to all parts of the room until finally settling on him. He gave Shouta a sad smile that absolutely broke him. For someone who had been so full of energy earlier, a complete All Might mini-me, Midoriya Izuku now looked completely rundown and broken. "It's just that… Well, I'm not afraid of you. I could never be afraid of a hero," Midoriya slowly shook his head. "Especially someone I've looked up to practically all my life."

"Then?" Shouta asked.

Midoriya took in a small breath and started fumbling with his uniform again. Shouta briefly noticed his tie wasn't tied correctly. "B-back there, on the field I just, your quirk. That's what got me. Having my power, my ability taken like that… it was… a lot," the kid breathed out.

"I see," was all Shouta said.

"But that doesn't mean I'll react that way again!" Midoriya began speaking really fast again, the desperation leaking from his shaking frame. Shouta watched the way he gripped at his uniform, tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned white. "I promise. I'll work on it. I'll be brave. It was a stupid reaction, I know I'm weak and I know I have a lot to learn but I promise I can do better and make up for the way I acted back there—"

"Midoriya, you're not weak. It's okay," Shouta said.

But it was as if the problem child had not heard him. He kept going, his voice becoming faster, higher. Shouta watched the rise and fall from his chest, droplets of sweat dripping down Midoriya's neck. He was clawing at his clothes now, as if desperate to hold onto something that would ground him. "Because I know now it was completely unacceptable and non heroic at all. And–and I understand if you have to expel me. I would expel me too. It was the rules and I didn't follow them. I didn't pass the test, I didn't even finish the test I—"

"Midoriya, breathe," Shouta blinked as he tried to process everything the boy had just said.

Midoriya's face flushed red and he looked down again. "Okay," he said softly, "I'm sorry."

"And stop apologizing," Shouta frowned.

"Right, s-sorry—" Midoriya went pale and he slapped his hands over his mouth. "I mean, yes, okay. I'll be quiet now and breathe like you told me too," he said shakily.

Shouta sighed and then he sighed again, placing his head in his hands. He didn't know where to begin because what had started out as one issue, had now become many. Midoriya Izuku was clearly going through something more than what Shouta experienced on the field. He had to tread lightly now since the boy had unknowingly exposed himself with the way he said certain things. It wasn't normal for a kid his age to apologize so much unless he viewed himself to be a burden, or had been made to seem that way by others.

"First of all, I'm not going to expel you."

Shouta heard Midoriya's sharp intake of breath and watched as the color drained from his student's face. "That's okay," he said quietly. "I–I figured this would happen and I was already mentally prepared— wait, what?! You mean I get to… stay?"

His last few words came out as a whisper but Shouta heard them nonetheless.

"I didn't bring you in here to tell you I was kicking you out of UA. 'M not that evil," Shouta grunted.

Midoriya gawked at him and then slumped into the chair in front of him. "Oh! Well, that's, wow, thank you Mr. Aizawa-sensei I'm very grateful that you—"

"I brought you in here because I want to know why you reacted the way you did," Shouta interrupted, folded his hands on the desk and pierced Midoriya with his gaze.

The boy immediately went rigid again, his posture stiffening as he sat up. Shouta noticed how he tried to hide his trembling hands under the table. "It was just a random thing," Midoriya forced a laugh. "Caught me off guard and stuff. I was really nervous. That's all."

"Nobody has ever reacted to Erasure that way," Shouta said coolly as he continued to analyze him. "Not even a villain."

Because it was true.

And that's what made it all the more strange.

"I know," Midoriya whispered into his lap.

"What?" Shouta frowned.

The boy's cheeks went red and he frantically waved his hands in front of his face. "N-nothing. It's nothing, really, Aizawa-sensei. I'm fine," their eyes met and Midoriya seemed to be pleading with him to let it go.

Please, his green eyes seemed to say, please just drop it.

But Shouta would not be letting this go. No matter how many times Midoriya looked at him that way.

"What if I told you I'd expel you if you didn't tell me the truth?" Shouta asked.

A test. Another logical ruse.

"But I'm not lying—" Midoriya began but then he dropped his head. "I'd leave," he said quietly.

And Midoriya had failed yet again.

Except this time his inability to answer correctly gave Shouta some insight into the situation. He decided to use it as a casual segue into the next part of his conversation. "It must be pretty bad if you're willing to give up your dreams," he gave the boy a raised brow.

Midoriya didn't take the bait however and angled his body in the chair as if getting ready to leave. "I understand… if, if you still want to expel me after that."

Shouta, unable to keep the frustration out of his tone, face planted and threw his head back.

"Midoriya," he said with as much patience as humanly possible. Suddenly he regretted not having drank the coffee after all. It stared at him mockingly from the other side of the room. "That was a hypothetical question."

The tips of Midoriya's ears went red and he sank his head into his collar. "Sorry—" he stopped and then shook his head, "I mean I'm not sorry," he stopped again and this time his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "W-wait yes I am, I am sorry, that was so rude, oh my gosh. It's just… this is a lot and—"

"Look, you don't have to tell me," Shouta said quickly. He was afraid if he didn't stop Midoriya now, the poor kid's head would explode. Even if there was nothing else wrong, Shouta was still considering sending him to therapy for his own sake. That much anxiety in one body could never be good. "Or anyone else for that matter. You don't have to tell anyone anything if you're not ready or comfortable. But I just want to make sure you're okay. It isn't healthy to keep things to yourself all the time."

And it wasn't. Shouta knew it first hand. Yet he was a hypocrite who drank coffee and took late night patrols so he wouldn't sleep and have nightmares. It was easier that way.

Midoriya was only a child though. His life was just beginning. Shouta had to make sure to keep him on the right path.

"I know," Midoriya whispered as he closed his eyes. "God, I know."

Shouta let the silence linger. It was so very obvious that Midoriya was trying not to cry again.

"Would you be interested in meeting with a therapist? It doesn't even have to be someone at UA we can arrange—"

"My quirk is fake," Midoriya gasped out before he slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head.

"What," Shouta deadpanned.

While there were a lot of things he expected Midoriya to say, that one was not one of them. Why was this problem child so full of surprises today?

Meanwhile, Midoriya seemed like he was on the verge of passing out again. He was crying now and kept staring at the door and then back at him. "Wait, no, that's not right. It just feels like it's fake because— fuck," Midoriya groaned and began to apologize only to curse yet again. "Shit, did I just, oh god I'm sorry Aizawa-sensei I didn't meant to curse like that, I never curse or say fuck or shit, gah! Sorry, sorry, I'll go now," he started getting up, nearly taking the chair down with him, "I'll just—"

"Midoriya," Shouta reached out this time and grabbed his wrist.

"Breathe."

The boy stopped, stared down at Shouta's hand before sitting back down. Shouta let go of him quickly and tried to ignore the sweat on his fingertips.

"R-right," Midoriya said, more to himself as he began mumbling to himself.

Shouta watched him, trying to make sense of what Midoriya had just confessed to. How could a quirk be fake? Any response Shouta came up with appeared illogical and wrong. He almost didn't want to ask Midoriya to elaborate.

"You said your quirk is… fake?"

Midoriya stopped mumbling to look up at him. At least he looked somewhat calmer than before. Shouta noticed how much more relaxed he seemed, as if a large burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. There was still panic and fear in his expression, but most of it has eased up after what he said. "Someone gave it to me, er, recently. I used to be… I used to be quirkless," he said softly.

"That's why I reacted the way I did when you took my quirk away. Because it reminded me of how things used to be and what people used to say, but like I said, I'll work on it." When Midoriya met Shouta's gaze again, he had that similar fiery determination in his gaze, the troublesome one Shouta had seen when Midoriya took down the robot during the entrance exam. "I promise. And if you could keep all of this a secret that would be really great because I wasn't supposed to tell anyone and wow I guess I just did so I messed up again didn't I?" Midoriya finished with a nervous laugh.

Shouta paused. "Quirkless?"

Was that even possible?

Midoriya seemed to shrink a little in his chair. "Y-yeah. But don't worry. That's not me anymore. I'm past that, I'm better, it's—"

"Midoriya, having a quirk does not determine your worth."

"Wh-what?" The boy looked up at him in shock.

It startled Shouta, how confused he looked. It made something sickly twist in his stomach. He still didn't understand how any of this was logical, going from no quirk to suddenly having one, but he wasn't about to question Midoriya while he was opening up to him. Something in the boy's expression told him he was telling the truth and Shouta was more focused on getting him to understand. That mattered more than anything. He could learn the specifics later.

"Having a quirk does not determine your worth," the underground hero repeated.

Midoriya opened and closed his mouth a few times. He looked nervous again. "W-with all due respect Aizawa-sensei sir, it… it kind of does."

"And who in the hell told you that?" Shouta snapped, unable to keep himself from cursing.

"Uh, everyone? My classmates, my teachers, even my mom. Well, she didn't verbally tell me, but I kind of got the impression that she thought that way. My dad too. It's why we don't see him anymore. He doesn't really come around a lot. But that's okay. I'm used to it," Midoriya finished with a small shrug.

Shouta's nostrils flared and the pencil he didn't realize he was holding snapped in two. Midoriya flinched and looked away.

"Midoriya," Shouta began, but he couldn't find the right words, "that's— fuck."

Midoriya remained quiet and kept sneaking glances at him. Neither of them said anything for a while.

Quirkless. Midoriya Izuku used to be quirkless and now he had a quirk. He was obviously dealing with some kind of imposter syndrome, along with anxiety, self confidence issues, and a whole bunch of other trauma they hadn't even unpacked yet. How the fuck wasn't this kid in therapy yet? Now his actions during the exam made much more sense as well as why his body broke down whenever he used his quirk.

Shouta groaned and rubbed at his temples.

This ran deeper than he initially believed.

"Midoriya."

"Y-yes?" The boy answered nervously.

"You're familiar with my fighting style, correct?" Shouta asked, trying to keep from cursing again.

"W-well yeah. It's why I admired you a lot when I was a kid. Because you basically fought quirkless," he finished with a blush.

Shouta nodded. "Right. But you wouldn't consider me any less worthy if I'm not using my quirk, right?"

Midoriya's eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. He even leaned a little over the desk as if to make his point. "No! It's so impressive how you fight actually. I've always been a fan."

"So then what's the difference between me and you?"

Midoriya deflated then. He even looked a little mad. "Oh, oh come on, Mr. Aizawa-sensei. You know it's not the same."

Shouta sighed. As expected. "I don't. So I'd like for you to tell me," the pro said.

Midoriya scrunched up his nose as he glared down at his hand. "You weren't born like this. Messed up. Wrong. Useless."

The way Midoriya spoke about himself sent shivers down Shouta's spine and the pro was not easily perturbed. He could see the incident escalating. He could see the self-hatred spiraling out of control. He could see Midoriya Izuku dead. And the worst part of it all was that Midoriya was partly correct. Shouta had not been born like him. He had never gone through what Midoriya did and he never would. The discrimination he faced by becoming an underground pro was no where near what Midoriya must have gone through. Shouta dealt with those things because of a choice, but Midoriya never chose how to exist in the world.

Quirkless discrimination was no joke either. Shouta had heard about it before, seen it firsthand when he would volunteer at certain centers where they kept quirkless people in rehab after suicide attempts or domestic abuse. Most of them never lived past 50 and that number was becoming lower and lower each year.

"But you said so yourself," Shouta continued as he slowly formulated his own thoughts despite the anger that was threatening to take over the more Midoriya talked badly about himself, "I fight quirkless most of the time. Are you saying I'm all those things then? Messed up? Wrong? Useless?"

Midoriya seemed to flinch after every word Shouta threw back at him. The pro knew his approach wasn't orthodox. Maybe what Midoriya really needed right now was a hug and some cookies. But Shouta couldn't be someone he was not. And if he was going to help Midoriya Izuku realize his true potential as a quirkless hero, something he had just decided seconds ago, he was going to do it his way.

"No! No, of course not," the boy said in a panic. "You're great. You're Eraserhead, a—"

"A what?" Shouta pushed. "A pro? Someone who's had extensive combat practice? You don't think you could do what I do if you received the same level of training?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"No," Midoriya mumbled.

"Well I think you can," Shouta said.

Midoriya looked up at him. He looked like he was on the verge of tears again.

"Actually, I know you can. Because I've seen what you can do. Because during the entrance exam it wasn't your quirk that made you smash the robot, it was you," Shouta leveled his gaze.

"B-but my quirk—" Midoriya stuttered.

Shouta rolled his eyes and waved him off with his hand. "Yes, it helped, sure. Damnitt, of course it did, Midoriya! But that's not the point. Because I know for a fact that you would have tried to save Uraraka with or without an ability. And it still would have been stupid and I still would have called you reckless but there's no denying what you would have done."

A pause.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Shouta said. "Tell me you would have left her there if you didn't have a quirk."

"I… no. You're, you're correct," Midoriya nodded, a few tears escaping his eyes and dripping down his face.

Shouta didn't comment on it and got up to grab the box of tissues. On the way back to his desk, he also grabbed his coffee and chugged it one go while Midoriya blew his nose.

"I know I can't change your mind, kid. Maybe not today or tomorrow either," Shouta set the cup down and wiped at his mouth. "Quirkless people go through a lot of shit. I can't even imagine what you've been through. No wonder I hurt you."

Shouta paused on purpose this time to catch his own breath.

"I'm sorry, Midoriya. I'm so, so sorry about everything I did, about everything you've been through up until now."

Midoriya stared at Shouta as if he had grown three heads. "Mr. Aizawa-sensei you didn't– you don't have to apologize," the boy shook his head and Shouta couldn't help the bitter chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Guess we're both stubborn, huh?" He gave Midoriya a raised brow.

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "Y-yeah," the boy said quietly.

This time the silence that lingered was a comfort for the both of them. Shouta wondered what Midoriya Izuku could be thinking. If he had his notebook with him, would he be writing this all down? Maybe he should. Shouta would have to suggest it to him the next time they met.

"I still think you could do it," the pro said quietly.

"Hm?" Midoriya looked up as if in a daze.

"Fight without a quirk. Do what I do," Shouta shrugged a little, running his finger along the rim of his cup.

"Th-thanks, I guess," Midoriya mumbled turning red once again.

"But I know words won't be enough to make you see that," Shouta said as he stood up and walked over to his filing cabinet.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Midoriya asked nervously from his chair.

"Making you a training schedule," Shouta responded after plucking Midoriya's file from the M-section and taking it back to his desk.

"A– wait what?"

Shouta offered Midoriya the file once he was done with it. The boy took it tentatively in his hands. "It's obvious that whoever gave you that quirk didn't teach you proper combat. And well, I am your sensei so it's my job to make sure you learn."

Midoriya froze. "Hold on, y-you're not actually going to teach me how to fight like you do? W-without my quirk—"

"How else am I going to convince you to see your own potential? How much you're worth?" Shouta raised an eyebrow and then went back to writing the days of the week on the lined sheet of paper. He would give Midoriya a rest on the weekends, but Monday through Friday would be full of training. Oh, and Shouta also had to make time for Midoriya's therapy sessions. He would have to speak to Hound Dog and the other teachers about incorporating it into his schedule.

"I don't– Mr. Aizawa-sensei this is…" Midoriya was panicking again. It was obvious by all the mumbling that Shouta proceeded to tune out. But when it was obvious that the problem child was not stopping any time soon again, Shouta felt the need to reassure him again.

"Thank you for opening up," he put his pen down and their eyes met. "You're very brave you know."

Midoriya pressed his lips together, probably to keep from crying again.

"But you're still a problem child so don't get too comfortable," Shouta reached over and ruffled his hair gently before going back to the schedule.

"I won't," he heard Midoriya whispered. The boy didn't speak again after that and Shouta found himself working in silence. It wasn't until he finished writing everything down that he felt the need to speak again.

"Even if you had never received a quirk at all, you would have found a way to live out your dream," Shouta said, handing him the paper.

"But how do you know that?" Midoriya asked with a slight pout. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because Midoriya Izuku, you have the heart of a hero. Quirks are a dime a dozen. You could be the most powerful person in the world but if you have no drive then what's the point? Wasted potential if you ask me," Shouta smirked.

Midoriya's bottom lip trembled and then he reached over and hugged Shouta. The pro went still. "Thank you, thank you," Midoriya whispered. "I– I needed to hear that f-from somebody I just… they all laughed in my face. No one believed in me. Not even, not even him."

Despite his lack of experience and general interest in any form of physical affection, Shouta found himself hugging Midoriya back and gently patted his head. It was awkward and Shouta wasn't sure if he was doing this whole 'comforting' thing right, but it seemed to help as Midoriya soon relaxed in his arms.

Midoriya eventually pulled away and rubbed at his eyes. "Could I– could I go back to my other class now? I'm sure everyone must be confused about what happened."

Shouta nodded. "If you're feeling okay, go ahead. But you're always welcome to back here if you ever need to take a breath."

"Yes, okay," Midoriya gave him a wobbly smile. "Thank you, again. I mean it, sensei. Thank you lots."

Shouta smiled back. "No, thank you. For trusting me enough to tell me all these things even after what I unknowingly put you through. I still want you to see a therapist though. And that mentor of yours, are they—"

"I'lltalktothem!" Midoriya shrieked.

"Mm, alright. I'll take your word for it," Shouta said, only because he wasn't sure he could handle any more reveals today.

Midoriya practically bolted to the door after that, a little too eager to get away. Something told Shouta this mentor was going to be a problem. One that he would ultimately end up dealing with himself. "Yes, right, so um, I'll get going now. Thanks, I know I, I know I said that already but, um, yeah."

"Midoriya."

"Yeah?" The boy asked, half of his body out the door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Shouta gestured towards the schedule he had made for him. Midoriya had left it on the desk.

"Oh– oh! You were serious?" He stumbled back into the room, fumbling with his hands again. "You really want to train me?"

Shouta stared him down. "Ask me again and I'll actually expel you."

Midoriya went pale and let out a nervous giggle. "Ah, haha. Duh. You can totally train me, I was just… I was just kidding– okay bye sensei! See you tomorrow in class," he waved before taking off.

Shouta let out the longest sigh of his life when the door closed. God that kid was going to be the death of him. But somehow he didn't mind.

"Quirkless, huh," Shouta mumbled as he sat back down and began going through Midoriya's files until he found what he was looking for.

Aldera Middle School.

Shouta smirked and picked up the phone.

Oh no. He didn't mind at all.