Izuku Midoriya was four years old when he found out he couldn't be a Hero. Later in his life, he would learn that the 'toe joint test' wasn't an accurate assessment of the presence of a quirk, but it made no difference. The best tests money could buy wouldn't change the truth that Izuku was quirkless. Useless. Kacchan seemed to think so, at least.
His teachers didn't seem to care.
His father wasn't around to cheer him up.
His mother only apologized.
Izuku Midoriya was five years old when his mouth spoke in a voice that was not his own. He was scared, as most five-year-olds would be. The voice that came out was rough and broken, and unfamiliar in almost every way. But somewhere under the voice, Izuku could feel that it was afraid. He did his best to comfort the voice. He gave soothing words and introduced himself, and when the voice was calmer it spoke again.
The voice knew only a handful of words like 'why', 'water', and – strangely enough – 'chain'. They did not know their own name, nor did they seem to have any Idea who exactly they were. Izuku took it upon himself to teach his newfound friend every word known to him, which was far less than most of the grown-ups he knew, but it was something, at least.
Izuku Midoriya was six years old when the voice – who, with lack of a proper name, Izuku had taken to calling 'Mr. Voice' – asked him, "why does Katsuki call you 'Deku'?" The voice was still learning how to speak, so a full sentence caught him off guard. Izuku stammered out an answer. He explained that It was a nickname. A different (wrong) way his name could be spelled. It meant Useless.
The voice was greatly upset by this. "But that is not your name," they said, "he shouldn't call you that."
Izuku had tried to jump to the argument that there was nothing wrong with nicknames, but the voice interrupted him, blurting, "Your name isn't Deku. My name is Deku. You can't have my name."
Izuku was six years old when he learned that arguing with Deku was a lost cause.
Izuku Midoriya was seven years old when Deku asked if they were a boy or a girl. "You don't know?" he asked. Deku explained to him that they didn't feel like a girl. They didn't feel like a boy either, but they felt less like a girl than they did a boy. Izuku couldn't argue with that logic, so he didn't.
Izuku Midoriya was eight years old when he asked Deku if he cared that he was quirkless. "I'm quirkless too," Deku had said, and that was that.
Izuku Midoriya was eleven years old when he learned that he could sleep while Deku stayed awake, and vice-versa. It started when he realized one morning he was getting more muscular. He at first chalked it up to puberty hitting him strangely, but soon found out that Deku had been sneaking out to the roof at night to exercise. Izuku worried over Deku for a while, nagging him about sleep deprivation and unbalanced diets, but Deku was hearing none of it. "I'll just nap through the day," he said, "we'll be fine, Izuku." True to Deku's words, neither of their sleep schedules ever interfered with each other's.
Izuku Midoriya was twelve years old when Deku decided he wanted to be a vigilante. He asked Izuku if he could use the body they were sharing to go out and fight crime. Izuku asked why Deku didn't want to be a Hero istead.
"You have to go to school to be a Hero, right?" Izuku nodded. "I don't think I'm smart enough."
Izuku knew that Deku was wrong to call himself stupid. He really wasn't. Deku was there when Izuku was in classes, and he was there when Izuku did his homework. Izuku knew that Deku was capable of being exceptionally clever. He just had a bad habit of… well, 'letting his mind wander' was one way to put it.
Izuku was at first very against the idea of letting Deku go out to fight crime on his own, but promised to give it thought.
The next night, when the subject was brought up again, Deku promised to always be back before dawn, and promised to wear knee pads, and promised to only hurt bad guys, and promised to not get arrested, among many other promises Deku made that night. Izuku saw how much Deku cared about his dream, and eventually gave in. Izuku just wished he had the same grit when it came to his own dreams.
Deku was so happy that he couldn't stand still. He jumped and ran and yelped and cheered with joy (though let it be known that Izuku did manage to keep Deku quiet enough to not wake his mother). Deku celebrated until he went to hug Izuku. He then realized that he couldn't hug Izuku without himself getting in the way. This made Deku sad, but he was happy again a minute later when Izuku took out a notebook and they started drawing costume designs.
Izuku Midoriya was fourteen years old when Deku first made himself known to the world. Izuku was already having a bad day; one too many encounters with Kacchan tended to do that. Couple that with a new group of bullies who didn't know where to draw the line, and Izuku was having a very bad day. It was the end of the school day, and Izuku was just on his way out when his path was blocked.
Deku watched on as the blond – the one with firecrackers bursting from his palms – reached out and took one of Izuku's books. He took one of Izuku's Hero notebooks. Took one of Izuku's cherished books that the boy spent hours a day scribbling and muttering in. Took one of Izuku's most prized possessions, and torched it.
Izuku had turned his head down and waited for Kacchan to spew his insults. 'The day was almost done', was what he was thinking to himself, 'we're so close to going home'. But the insults never came. Instead, Izuku's body moved in a very un-Izuku-like way.
Growling and thrashing like a wild animal, Deku was on the blond in a flash. There was a blur of movement and it took their shaken spectators a moment to realize what had happened.
Deku braced to engage the next bully but they just stood there wordlessly.
He stood there with them.
He felt a tickle on his hand and looked to see the skin on his knuckles had split open.
He looked at the boy at his feet. He was sitting on the floor, gasping for breath, looking up at him with an emotion Deku didn't know. One of his hands held a bruising throat while the other clutched at what used to be an ear.
Deku felt something fleshy in his mouth and prodded it with his tongue.
Blood pooled beneath the both of them, and Deku numbly realized he had just done something terribly wrong.
Izuku Midoriya was fourteen years old when he was admitted to a mental institution.
Inko Midoriya considered herself a reasonable person. She managed to keep herself calm when she needed to, and she could bring herself down from a panicking state. Sure she got emotional at times; all Midoriya's do.
The point is that she tried to see both sides of an argument. And if she didn't agree with something, she could at the very least try to understand – a lesson she drilled into her son often.
But, when she received word that Izuku – her sweet, timid, quiet Izuku – had bitten off a classmate's ear – she couldn't wrap her head around it.
Then shortly after she got a call that he was calling himself 'Deku' and the social worker on the scene theorized a sudden case of 'Dissociative Identity Disorder' and Inko Midoriya was aswarm with thoughts.
Thoughts of 'how long has my baby been struggling with this?' and 'oh god– I'm such a horrible mother for not seeing it sooner' muddled together in her mind till she felt numb all around. She had to slap herself to knock herself out of those thoughts. Something had gone wrong with her Izuku, and now she had to make it right.
Inko Midoriya wasn't an idiot.
She knew that quirkless people lived hard lives. She knew that statistics were not on her son's side. And she knew that this was going to make his life so much worse. She was going to help her son in any way she could. And so, with teary vision, she signed on a last desperate deal.
They told her he would be gone for a year at most. Just six months if everything went perfectly right.
'Just six months,' she told herself. 'Yes, a year at most, but please, just six months.'
One month in and they had a proper diagnosis.
Two months in and she had heard very little good news. They let her visit every other week. And every other week, she was there.
Three months in and she told herself, 'halfway there.'
Six months in and they told her he needed to stay for a while longer. "Until he's safer to be around," they said.
Ten months in, and she was told things were getting better. She could now visit him once a week. And once a week, she was there.
One year in, and she was told things were getting worse.
"How much longer?" she asked them.
"However long it takes," they told her.
Then a second year went by.
And two years turned to three.
And she was told Izuku was himself again. She again asked how long it would be. They told her his condition was 'receding'. They needed to be sure he was recovered.
Another six months went by, and she only heard good news.
Another two months, and he was free to go.
For three years and eight months, Izuku was kept in the institution. And for three years and eight months, Inko only knew him from behind a three-inch pane of plexiglass.
When Inko Midoriya finally hugged her son again, he was nearly a man.
It took nearly an hour for Inko to dry her eyes enough to drive them both home. The waterworks started again when Izuku found that his room had remained unchanged.
They had katsudon that night, and they both agreed that it was the tastiest meal they had ever had. They had mint ice cream for dessert, and afterwards Izuku excused himself to the bathroom.
She tried her best to keep from worrying when he didn't come out for a while, but the effort left her when he came out and she saw his face.
"Mom, w- I, have something to tell you, but you have to promise you won't tell anyone." Now she was definitely worried.
"Of course, sweetie. I'll keep any secret you need me to."
"Ok, here goes." Izuku took a deep breath. "I- um- I-haven't-actually-recovered-and-Deku-is-still-with-me."
There was a beat of silence.
"Izuku."
Izuku winced.
"Izuku. Sweetie. I need you to run that by me again. A bit more slowly, okay?"
Izuku nodded and took a few deep breaths. "I… haven't actually recovered," he looked away for a few moments before forcing himself to look back at her.
"Deku is still with me. We faked recovery to get out."
As Inko sat and thought of what she could possibly say next, she watched as her son seemed to morph in front of her eyes. His frame seemed to almost grow. His shoulders, which usually hunched forwards, fell back in a comfortable yet proud manner. His jaw set itself, and his eyes glinted with a look so unlike her son.
"Yo. I'm Deku."
Inko fainted.
"Mom!" Izuku cried as he lurched forwards to keep his mother from hitting anything.
"She took it way better than I expected," Deku remarked.
"She fainted, you asshole!" Izuku propped her up on the couch and made sure she was breathing fine, just in case. Izuku walked to the bathroom and gave Deku an incredulous look in the mirror. "Also, 'yo'? What even was the point of that pep talk? We agreed we'd lay it on her easily!"
"We were taking it easy, Mr. 'I-haven't-recovered-and-Deku-is-still-with-me.'"
"Well-! You didn't exactly handle it any better!"
"Yeah, that's true," Deku agreed.
"Shit!"
"Language."
"Now what do we do?!"
"What do you mean? She just fainted."
"That wasn't our end goal!"
"What was?"
"We- that- we were just supposed to let her know-"
"Now she knows. Mission accomplished."
"Ugh!" Izuku groaned, more to himself than anything. "This was supposed to go so much smoother."
"What part of our lives has ever gone smoothly?" asked Deku, half-joking.
"That's not a very healthy way of looking at things." Izuku walked back out to the living room to see his mother still sleeping peacefully on the couch. "Now what?"
"Well, I'm gonna go get some more ice cream."
"...Seriously?"
"Dude, you just snuck me out of a mental institution. I'm celebrating."
Working together, the tub of mint ice cream didn't stand a chance.
True to Deku's word, and all things considered, Inko did take it very well. She had woken up to the sound of the two talking in the kitchen, and when she imagined Deku as a different person altogether, she couldn't deny that they sounded like closer friends than Izuku ever had.
It took a very long time for Inko to get used to Deku's presence. Especially considering he was sharing a body with her son. In time, she learned to separate their mannerisms, and they could have lengthy conversations between the three of them without things getting confusing. Though Inko had heard a lot about Deku, and Deku knew much about Inko from listening in on her weekly visits, Inko and Deku learned a lot about each other; and Deku became part of the family.
Izuku's psychiatrist did call several times to check in, and each time Inko gave him the truth: Izuku was perfectly fine. She did feel bad about half-lying to the man. He sounded like he really did care for Izuku's wellbeing.
They quickly got back into a schedule. Izuku stayed awake during the day and slept at night. Deku was awake through most of the night and napped throughout the day. During the day, Izuku would go job hunting on the internet. By night, Deku would work to build the muscle mass he had lost in the institution. Izuku had troubles finding work; not only was he quirkless, but his medical history in the institution was public knowledge. Deku once did over a hundred sit-ups before he broke a sweat, and bragged about it non-stop for a week. Izuku started looking for job offers further away, and discussed with Deku the option of moving out on their own. Deku could now rip the entire lid off of a soda can with little effort; a skill he was determined to show off at any chance he got.
After a few months of job hunting, Izuku received a call from a man who introduced himself as Seymour Krelborn, the owner of Krelborn's Flower Shop. The call went something along these lines:
"I'm looking at your resume here and you say you know plants. Do you know flowers?"
"W-well, Mr. Krelborn, I have studied a bit of botany over the last few years."
"Botany, eh? That's good and all but the only plants I deal with are flowers. All I wanna know is if you know flowers."
"I-I know a lot about flowers in general. I don't know a lot of kinds of flowers, b-but I can learn!"
"That'll work! I wanna see what you know. Can you come down on Sunday?"
"Yes, sir! I-I mean, I can, sir, but–" and it was at this point that Izuku (who had been rejected many times by previous possible employers) told Mr. Krelborn about not only his quirkless nature, but also his recent release from a mental institution. Izuku's thinking for this was to let him know now, so the man could retract his offer before Izuku walked all the way across the city.
The man seemed to think for a second before saying, "You were released, right? That means your thinking clear now?"
"F-for the most part, s-sir."
"Good enough! And otherwise I don't care for quirks. If I needed a flower quirk, I would have asked you that first! Show me what you know on Sunday and I'll consider giving you the job then."
"Of course, sir! What time would you like me there?"
"Anytime, my boy! It's no secret I live in the attic!"
When Izuku showed up to the flower shop, Mr. Krelborn greeted him at the front. He was an old man who looked to be in his late seventies. He walked hunched over a cane, but he was still surprisingly spry for his age.
He led Izuku to a table at the back and they both sat down on old cushioned stools. Mr. Krelborn asked Izuku what he knew. Izuku talked for a while before the old man raised his hand, stopping him.
"Son, you sure know a lot about plants. But I'll be honest with you, I don't need any of that here. Sorry boy, what'cha know's no good to me." He stood up, and for a moment, Izuku worried that he had ruined his chances.
But then, the man gestured for him to stand and said, "c'mere. I wanna see how you learn."
Mr. Krelborn then led Izuku throughout the store, talking about every plant that dotted the shelves, floors, and ceiling. He then walked out the front door and then immediately back in and, pretending to be a customer, asked Izuku a handful of broad-ended questions. Izuku kindly led him around and recited not only what he remembered, but what was relevant, too. By the end of it, the old man made them both a cup of tea and they sat down at the back again.
"Well, my boy, you learn fast and you learn quick. Much quicker than I did at your age! What say you come back on Monday and we'll see how you fare with some real customers!"
Izuku almost cried from joy right there. He could barely hold his tears in until he was out the door and down the street. He drew a few odd looks on the train ride back, but he couldn't care.
That night, Izuku sat down with his mother and Deku. They talked at length about things both good and bad, but mostly about his new job. It was clear that the commute simply wasn't viable, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that his best option was to find an apartment closer to the shop. His mother had agreed that it was his best option, but had cried regardless. His mother crying made him cry. Deku complained about the tears in his eyes.
That same night, Izuku broke the news of Deku's plan to become a vigilante. Inko was understandably less than thrilled, but they convinced her to allow it as long as he kept himself safe and didn't bite off more than he could chew. Deku pointed out that if he just fought criminals that were weaker than him, he would just be a bully, but Inko made him promise regardless.
It took nearly a week to find a good apartment listing, and another week to get everything signed and official. Inko and Izuku had another tearful goodbye, and Izuku made many promises to call and visit whenever he could. Deku said his goodbyes as well. Though he also pointed out that he would go wherever Izuku went, and it sounded like they would be seeing each other quite often still, Inko still shed some tears at his leave.
They packed very little of what they owned, planning to make more trips in the coming weeks. Izuku had two suitcases worth of clothes and a large briefcase stuffed with everything else he owned. Deku packed his new crime-fighting costume in a smaller briefcase (one that supposedly once belonged to Izuku's father) as well as some blank notebooks whenever he thought Izuku wasn't paying attention.
Izuku was adamant that he wanted to put his hero notes behind him. "There's no future for me as a Hero," he said. "We both know that."
Deku thought that was… what's the word… oh yeah, bullshit. But he left the matter for another time.
Their new apartment was small, but with only one body taking up space, it was manageable. The kitchen had only the bare essentials, but the fridge worked at least. The same could not be said for the oven. The dining room table seemed to be missing a few chairs, and the main room was sparsely furnished. Izuku only noticed the lack of TV when Deku complained loudly about it.
His first week of work went mostly without issue. Mr. Krelborn left about half of the customers to him, but stayed within earshot in case the boy needed help.
Imagine his surprise when Friday came around and the Hero Anima – the rookie Hero Anima – walked in the door costumeless. Now, Izuku didn't watch the news as much as he used to, and he wasn't nearly as big of a fanboy as he used to be, but he had stayed up to date on the graduates of the prestigious U.A. High over the years. It was still a struggle not to gush about how Anima had just strolled through the door so casually.
Izuku did manage to compose himself, though, and he kindly helped Anima – yes, the Anima – pick out a small arrangement of flowers.
The Hero had some friendly words with Mr. Krelborn (or rather, Mr. Krelborn spoke with words, while Anima conversed in sign language) before parting – a bundle of daisies in one hand and marigolds in the other.
Mr. Krelborn told him that Koda (which is Anima's not-so-secret real name) was a regular at the flower shop. "He comes here since everything we gots is all natural. Every other place pumps them so full of chemicals they're barely flowers anymore!"
Let it be known that both Mr. Krelborn and Koda were picky when it came to their flowers.
That night, when Izuku got back to the apartment, he immediately began teaching himself sign language. Koda was apparently going to be a regular, after all.
Saturday happened to be Izuku's eighteenth birthday, as well as the first day he would be visiting home since moving out.
When they celebrated Izuku's eighteenth birthday, they celebrated as if it were Deku's birthday too. Izuku requested katsudon, and Deku demanded mint ice cream. Inko (quite sternly) warned Deku that he would get himself and Izuku sick if he ate as much as he did last time. Izuku relished the katsudon as if it were a precious divine nectar, and Deku cherished his ice cream like it was his last meal.
Izuku's gifts included: an All Might themed alarm clock that both became available and was taken off the market while Izuku was in the institution, a new pair of large red shoes (he had long outgrown his old ones), and a hand-written katsudon recipe (which Izuku accepted with nearly a hundred "thank you"s).
Then, Inko surprised them both with a gift for Deku – a large green hoodie. "Even vigilantes need costumes, right?"
The hoodie was a dark green in color; nearly black in dim lighting. The material was comfortable to the touch, but Izuku remarked that it was surprisingly durable. Deku tested that by biting at the hem, much to the other boy's disapproval.
Inko also gave them a pair of military greaves that sat slack over their legs. As well as a pair of wine-colored steel-soled boots.
Izuku hugged his mother with watery eyes. And Deku would not admit to giving the woman a small thank you squeeze as well.
Izuku then took out his old notebooks, as well as a blank one that he never got around to using. Together, they looked over their old costume designs made as kids. While their old designs were bold and extravagant and more befitting of a top-ranking hero, their new design was made while thinking purely practically. The pockets on the costume meant Deku could carry around a few things, like a med kit and a pocket knife; but he insisted on moving light, which meant they had to forgo the grappling hook/jetpack they once doodled in crayon.
By the end of it, the two notebooks looked completely different in substance, but both had the familiar markings of Izuku's bullet-point tangents and Deku's various scribbles in the margins.
In the morning, they went shopping for everything else they needed. A mask and goggles to cover their face, a can of cheap spray-on hair dye, and a pair of steel-knuckle gloves were among the items they bought.
When they got back, Deku excitedly put everything on and admired himself in the mirror. Once Izuku calmed him down enough to stop bouncing in place, they both marveled at the sight. The black mask and goggles gave them a faceless appearance. Coupled with the baggy clothes over their broad frame and they were an intimidating sight.
Izuku suggested to Deku that if he planned to go out tonight, he should start by just walking the streets. His appearance wasn't known, so he could pass as a normal civilian from a distance.
Deku did indeed go out that night, but saw no action. There were no store break-ins, or alleyway muggings, or any other nefarious activities for him to put his head into. When he shared this with Deku, the boy had kindly comforted him.
But Deku was not discouraged. He had had a feeling that nightly crimes weren't as common or as close-together as they appeared in the movies. And frankly, he was fine with that.
Deku didn't need to be the strongest, or the most efficient at keeping people safe, and he sure didn't need to be the number one Hero.
He could rest easy knowing that at least he was out on the streets, willing to give a helping hand wherever anyone did call for it. He didn't need a flashy costume or a bunch of heart-pounding action to justify that.
He had no way of knowing just how much action he was going to see in the coming months.
