I'm quirkless.

Let me explain what that means in our world.

Practically everyone develops a quirk when they're young — like a superpower, if that makes more sense — around the age of four. It's rare these days to be quirkless, but it happens. And it sucks in terms of who would even be friends with someone that doesn't have a quirk of any sort.

I couldn't really make any friends growing up.

My most memorable friend — or, rather, he was actually the first friend I ever made — was Shoto Todoroki. It only lasted at least about a month when we were four, but I would never forget it.

We met at the park.

It was the first day my dad let me out of the house by myself to see if I could make any friends while mom went to her doctor's appointment. The park was just across the street from his convenience store… so long as I told him I was going to be there, he could glance out the window every now and then to check on me.

Every kid was the same:

"Have you developed your quirk yet?"

"What quirks do your parents have?"

"Mine's coming in and it's strong — I'll crush you someday!"

"You're not cool if you don't get one."

Quirk, quirk, quirk, quirk, QUIRK! Were quirks all anyone was going to be obsessed about?

The only kid to really pique my interest was a boy rocking back and forth alone on the swing set. His hair also fascinated me as half of it was pure white while the other half was a deep red, literally half and half and split down the middle.

He seemed to be enjoying his time by himself. Time to interrupt mwahaha.

I sat down in the swing next to him, startling him into staring at me in shock. "Hi! Mind if I hang out with you?"

Up close, I could finally see that his eyes were just as different as his hair. One eye brown, the other blue. The blue eye was on the same side as his red hair. Color clash!

"Sure," he said with a small shrug.

"I'm Chise Kirita," I said with a big grin. "What's your name?"

He returned the smile, "Shoto Todoroki."

And so began a beautiful, though short, friendship. We played every day for about a month, running around laughing and just having fun. Most of the games, as any kid enjoyed playing, were heroes versus villains.

"Mwahaha!" I yelled, brandishing a stick as a weapon. "You'll never save the hostages in time, hero! You would be smart to give up now!"

Shoto, with his hands on his hips, stood at his full height in a hero stance. "I'll never give up! The hostages have nothing to fear… for I am here!"

'I am here'… the famous catchphrase of the most amazing superhero alive, All Might. Number one hero, number one grin, number one quirk. All the kids looked up to him.. even me at that point in time. He was so calm in the face of disaster, and so quick to take down a formidable foe. He was legendary.

Back to our game, Shoto had recently developed and worked on his quirk to such a degree that he was able to create an ice shard in his hand. He began dueling me, both of us evenly matched until I heard a loud voice.

"Shoto!"

I dropped my stick in surprise, backing up just in time for the ice shard to only scrape against the palm of my left hand rather than completely stab it. "Ow!" I hissed, grabbing onto my wrist as the blood began to flow.

Interrupting question: why do we humans do that when our hand gets hurt? It makes no logical sense to grab the wrist — it's not like holding it stops the hand from hurting. It still hurts! Yet, our base instinct is to grab it at that point in time, and continue to hold it until something is done with the pain. Anyway.. though I don't understand it, I did it, and now we can move on.

Shoto quickly dropped the ice shard and ran to look at my hand, "Oh no! Are you okay?"

"I think so…" I said, distractedly staring at the bloody line stretching from the base of my thumb to the space between my pinkie and ring finger. That was going to scar.

Shoto spun around in hot fury to see the man that had yelled his name. It was the number two hero, Endeavor — something that had me openly gaping, especially when that fact didn't change his sour mood. "You distracted us, dad! Now she's hurt because of you!"

I blinked between the two of them in shock. Dad?… Dang.

The man, himself, was tall and buff with flaming red hair — literally, on most accounts — for his beard and eyebrows were actual flames. His navy blue hero's outfit was incredible too, with metal shoulder plates and gauntlets as protection. All along with strips of lava-like fabric sewed in. He would have been so amazing if he wasn't known to be so cold… even to his own fans.

He glared down at me for one millisecond, then to where our 'weapons' lay on the ground. He grinned at Shoto, "That's my boy! Proving that you're the strongest already? I haven't even started training you yet!"

"We were just playing!" he retorted.

Endeavor's expression turned serious, "The time for play is over, Shoto. Your training begins today. I will mold you into the next number one hero, I swear it."

The thought of training to become heroes was intriguing. "Can you train me, too?" I asked giddily.

He glared at me again, "I could recommend you to someone, I suppose. What's your quirk?"

There went that stupid question again. I felt my hopes shatter before I even heard his response to what I was going to say next. "I — um — well, I don't have one…"

In the time since Shoto and I had started playing… well, one night mom was having dinner with me and dad. She joked around with me as usual, though dad gave her a lot of mean looks that night. I didn't understand until the next day when I woke up and mom was gone. All of her clothes.. and her art pieces normally scattered in various positions around the house… just vanished as if they had never been there in the first place. As if she'd never existed.

I had wandered into my parents' room and, for the first time, saw my dad just in tears. He sounded so alone.

I sat down next to him on the bed and hugged him. "Daddy, why are you crying? Where's mommy?"

After a few more sobs and some sniffles, he turned to me to cradle my face. "Pumpkin… I'm sorry to have to tell you, but… mommy's not coming back."

Tears sprung to my eyes within an instant, "Wh-why not?"

"Mommy can't handle things with us very well… Dr. Sue telling us that you weren't going to develop a quirk scared her. She didn't know how she could raise you to be able to protect yourself without a quirk, because she felt like she exhausted herself doing it for me as we grew up."

"But — but I can learn how to protect myself, daddy…. Why can't she —"

"Oh, Pumpkin… that's just impossible in this world… There's so many different types of quirks that there's no way to know how to defend yourself against everything. One day, you and I may come up against something we can't fight with our limited knowledge of all the possible quirks."

"That doesn't mean we can't try! Why couldn't mommy try to believe in us?!" my voice rose the more hysterical I felt. How could she just leave us stranded? How could she bear to abandon her own family?

All dad could do was hold me tightly in his arms.. as if that could quell just how lost and sad I felt.

In the present time, I watched trepidly as Endeavor's eyes turned cold and he glared down on me with barely repressed contempt. "Don't waste anyone's time trying then, girl."

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About four years passed monotonously by since then. I was eight years old, home schooling and helping out in my dad's convenience store, Kirita Kodomo. He deeply feared me just leaving the building, though I never understood why he didn't just find a way for us to learn how to fight.

He had powerful partners that visited the shop every day to chat, and they were so experienced that they could've taught the both of us how to fight. It never happened because he never asked, and he wouldn't let me ask. He barely let me even talk to them.

"Can I please go to the park, dad?" I begged him for perhaps the millionth time.

He fervently shook his head, "Pumpkin, if it was a no yesterday, what makes you think it's any different today? It's too dangerous for you out there."

"But you go outside," I retorted. "You always return without a scratch."

"I am a grown man, Pumpkin. You are a small girl. On top of the world being twice as dangerous to girls than boys, kids in general are very mean when it comes to one who's quirkless…. You can believe that I've experienced it firsthand." He turned his head from counting the money in the cash register to look at me.

I stared defiantly back at him.

"You mustn't be so careless, Pumpkin. The world is a scary place for people like us."

I crossed my arms, pouting, "But I don't want to be afraid all the time."

"You may not want to," he said, completely turning around to bend down in front of me so we could talk face to face. "But you have to. The things you don't want are generally what's best for you. That's just how the world is."

"But —"

Something clanged to the floor… it came from the back room. We were the only people who worked at the store, and it was closed for the night.

It was the first time my entire body completely froze, paralyzed by fear.

Dad quickly opened up the trap door — pulled only by a thin, but strong shoelace — underneath the desk the cash register sat on. After settling me into the small space, he started to close it as I tried to make room for him to sit next to me.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, trying to bar him from closing it on me.

"It could be one of my partners with a business deal."

"Then why am I hiding? And why didn't they just knock on the front door?"

"Precautions, Pumpkin. Precautions," he said simply before closing the door on me the rest of the way.

After a few seconds, dad called out, "Hello?.. Hello!.. Is someone in here?"

A breathtaking minute of silence passed before I heard the sound of sword against sword… not fighting. My dad didn't even have a sword — never wielded one… No, it was two swords scraping against each other along with the air vibrating with wind at the end of each scrape. Scraaaape whoosh.. scraaaape whoosh.. over and over and over again. It gave me chills.

"Who are you?" dad's voice cracked worriedly. "What do you want?"

A cackle like no other sounded, causing my heart to pound uncontrollably against my chest.

My armpits began to sweat as my fear grew exponentially inside the sweltering, enclosed space I was safest in. Why do I have to be stuck inside such a small space by myself? I wondered worriedly. Why couldn't he have just hid with me?

Dad's next question really worried me, and would continue to haunt me as I grew up. "Who hired you?"

The voice, deep and scratchy, would also always echo across my mind. The conversation replaying like a movie without a happy ending.

"You know who wants their revenge, Kirita. In order for them to repay their debt, their best option is to steal from you. So.. you have one chance. Tell me where your daughter is."

"Over my dead body."

There was a sickening slice…. My dad gasped.. whimpered.. choked. I put my hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming.

"Oh… that was already arranged.." the villain replied, their tone revealing a hidden grin. "I will find your daughter myself, then… however, I hear that she is just as quirkless as you are. Perhaps I'll even kill her rather than let them sell her for the money they need to pay me."

The villain cackled again for a long time as I heard dad's pleas slowly fading away. "No…. Please…. Don't…."

Part of that message was for the villain… But the other half was also for me. He knew I wanted nothing more than to jump out and attack whoever the person was for hurting him, but then I would only be putting myself in harm's way. I felt my eyes tear up in anguish, I need to do something. Something. What can I do?

"No one knows about me unless they're dead," the voice continued maliciously. "Hence why you've never heard of the Quirkless Killer before. So not to worry, you're not the first and you're most certainly not the last, Kisaski Kirita. Your daughter might even be next."

"No… don't… please leave.. leave her alone…." His voice sounded so broken.

There was a resounding slice and a thud as the Quirkless Killer pulled the blade out and let my dad fall to the floor above me. "Not to worry, Kirita… she will be disposed of much quicker. Her death will be painless. Besides, as much as you shelter her.. that is no way of living. Better her life end now. The quirkless can not survive in such an unfair world of overpowered folks. I'm doing you a favor."

With that, the Quirkless Killer's footsteps echoed away across the floors to search the back rooms. It was only when his footsteps receded up the stairs that I pushed my way out of my hiding spot, and slouched next to my dad in a panic.

Blood already pooled around him, escaping his body through the clean slice in his chest.

"We've got to get you out of here, I —" I attempted to pull his arm over my shoulder to hold him up… but I was not strong enough to carry his weight as I couldn't even stand him up.

"No…" dad choked. "Stop… you have to run, pumpkin, please… run as fast as you can."

"But where would I go?" I sobbed. "I can't leave you here."

He grabbed hold of my hand, pushing something small into it before closing it. The warmth was already drastically disappearing from his hands. "You must…. Burn it all down, even me…. Then run."

"Daddy," I moaned.

"Go, pumpkin," he asserted, gently touching his hand to my cheek. "I'm so sorry I failed you. If I can succeed at anything in my lifetime, then it will be this… that you survive tonight. I.. I love… I love you…."

His voice tapered out, his eyes going lifeless as his hand dropped down.

Momentarily broken, I opened my hand to see his most prized possession… the lighter he and mom first bought together. The one that never ever broke despite its age.

Footsteps began tumbling down the stairs, so my choice was made before I could properly mourn the biggest loss of my life. "I love you.." I whispered as I stood.

The first things I grabbed were the newspapers off the counters, placing them sparingly across my dad's body. I even ripped up some bits off the mail, throwing it around him like confetti while holding more newspapers under my arm.

"There you are… you must have been hiding down here…."

I looked up at the Quirkless Killer… his face was hidden behind a white skull mask. His outfit was sparse — a torn, dirty white shirt and ripped capris. I noticed the skin on his arms and legs were as silver as metal, decidedly figuring that it had something to do with his quirk as even the nails on his hands and bare feet were silver… and visibly sharp.

"You know who I am, don't you girlie?" he asked, his tone patronizing and conceited. "You must've overheard what I said.."

"I don't know who you are… and frankly I don't care," I told the villain coldly, pulling one page from the newspapers under my arm. As I held the lighter underneath, I flicked it on and held it dangerously close to the page. "All you need to know is that if you've always won… I'm about to be your first loss."

With that, I set fire to the newspaper in my hand and dropped it on my father's body. The fire spread quickly, but not before the Quirkless Killer jumped over it and grabbed tight hold of my throat. I choked and struggled as he lifted me off the ground, pointing a newly sharpened sword hand at my chest.

"On top of being the Quirkless Killer, I call myself Purge. Do you understand what that means?" he snarled, slowly edging his sword hand closer to me.

I couldn't answer, not that I would have anyways, as I frantically kicked and pulled on his hand in an attempt to free my airways. My vision began to blur. "Because you vermin must be purged from the population. You take up too much space. You're useless. You and your dear old father. Look at him now… he couldn't protect you for very long -"

My body became excruciatingly hot but, even now, I doubt it was because of the fire efficiently burning down everything in that room. At that moment, one good kick finally reached his privates.. so when he went down, I was released to let out a few coughs and take in heavy breaths of smoke.

Purge wasn't completely down for the count though, because my eye nearly got sliced by the pocket-knife sized blades protruding from his toe nails.

Blood dripped down over my left eyelid, proving that he must've nicked me in the eyebrow. I merely wiped the stream from my range of vision before picking up some throw-down firecrackers.

I quickly unwrapped a few, waiting until Purge looked up at me with panicked eyes.

"This is for my father," I said, throwing all the firecrackers down next to him.

Pop pop pop POP popop pop POP pop pop popop pop Pop POp POP POP POPOP

BANG!

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I stood outside the flaming building, panting and holding a hand over my pounding heart three minutes later. The firecrackers distracted Purge for the time being as I had run — almost as if the flashing was just that distracting for him — tossing more newspapers down as I went.

On my way out of the building, I had stopped by the kitchen to fling open the oven and turn it on high. With all the remaining newspapers in my arms thrown in a pile next to it, I had bolted outside.

I almost didn't make it out in time.

Drop. Tuck. Roll. Explosion. Coughing. Struggling to stand. Eyes widening at the sight before me. It all took a matter of minutes before the only place I ever knew — my whole childhood — was being licked away by a mixture of reddish-orange flames. Flames the same color as my hair, the ends of which were singed from my near death experience as I stared at the burning structure of my father's shop.

The shock of the situation finally hit me as I figured the villain must've been eaten by the fire. The rush of adrenaline I had from getting out alive escaped me quickly, leaving me to fall to my knees as tears started falling from my eyes.

Gone… everything's just gone… the store… my dad… I have nothing left….

And on top of that…. Where are the heroes when you need them?

Black smoke coated the sky with the remains of the Kirita Kodomo, still glowing with the fire I had created. Such an obvious hazard to people's safety — to the safety of one child in particular — and, yet, not a hero in sight.

To make matters worse, I knew dad had a button underneath his desk that would have alerted the police who — in turn — should've alerted the heroes if he had pressed it in a certain way that screamed 'villain' as he had taught me. On days when he left me at the shop by myself, I practiced tapping the special pattern on the desk as I waited for his return so I had it memorized by heart for whenever the time came.

He had to have pressed and tapped on that button so I could be saved.

So where were the heroes?

I emptily gazed up as I heard heavy footfalls coming my way… from the fire itself.

A large round, metal shield slowly came over — burning red from the heat of the fire — and stopped dramatically in front of me. Then it retracted in a circular motion, revealing the Quirkless Killer I thought I had smartly gotten rid of… his face furious with his cheeks and chest covered in third degree burns, holes burnt into his clothes in various intervals.

"You proud of yourself, girlie?" he sneered, turning his other hand into a sword.

Where is a hero when a small, quirkless kid like myself needs one?

Purge grinned sadistically down at me, "You must realize this is the end. Don't worry… I'll make it hurt."

I watched the sword plunge toward me, time somehow seeming to slow drastically down as I faced my end. The end, I figured positively, perhaps deliriously, of a worthless existence. A life where I had only ever lived inside, never to venture outside since childhood.

I wanted to be a hero, but… I couldn't save my dad… I couldn't even save myself.

Before the blade reached me, a pair of arms were suddenly wrapped around my body and I was whisked away from the sound of metal hitting pavement. As I was brought to a stop — the end of a somewhat graceful slide and fall — I looked up into determined brown eyes.

A man wearing… what is this? An All Might hoodie?

His eyes seemed to smile as he looked down on me, considering his mask covered his mouth from view. "Don't worry about a thing. We're here now!"

We?

I turned to look at Purge, my shock still in effect due to my lack of reaction as a woman with pink, fluffy pigtails suddenly landed on the villain's head. Effectively enough, it knocked him out immediately.

Of course. His head wasn't metal. He didn't see or hear her coming, so it was easy to knock him out there.

Wh… why couldn't I have thought of something so simple? So useless…

"Is he out?" the hoodie guy asked.

"Of course he's out!" she snapped. The black mask framing her eyes seemed to be painted on, accentuating her pink eyes rather fully.

Then it clicked into my traumatized mind.

These were the Naruhata Vigilantes: Pop Step and the Crawler.

How appropriate, I thought wryly, that the only people who saved me were the ones that saved the day when the heroes couldn't — when the heroes didn't deem something within their jurisdiction.

Though my body was numb, my eyes were dulled, and my face was rendered expressionless… I felt such fury. What did this incident say about heroes? Were quirkless people just that disposable? Did they really matter so little? How many innocent people had this 'Purge' killed before, and never been caught? How much sooner could this have been avoided should the heroes have even put in prior effort, or notice, toward finding the reason behind so many quirkless deaths?

Even as the police arrived and talked things over with the vigilantes, my brain whirred with so many dark thoughts. My questions couldn't be quenched, even if I actually said them out loud. What would the police — or that Detective Tsukauchi with the fashionable, tan trench-coat — even explain to me? Would it make any logical sense?

So many neighbors next door to our little shop, and no one called nine one one. No one called for the heroes. Actually… that wasn't my main issue… everyone saw me outside, about to be murdered by a villain, and they did nothing. All of the ones that had glanced out their windows admitted as much with the main reason being that they figured a hero should come.

"A hero was bound to arrive in time."

"I didn't want to put my family in danger."

"What could I have really done?"

"I thought someone would've called already. It wasn't called in? I didn't know."

Useless answers. Useless people. Useless apologies directed at me, still clutching onto the Crawler's arm for that continued sensation of protection, as I pretended to nod silently in understanding.

What had our society come to? Where they all waited for someone else to step forward, and save the day? Where they thought that they didn't have to help when someone needed it?

And yet, they all had quirks.

How ironic could it be that the ones with quirks wouldn't step in, but the quirkless child had to protect herself up to the point that someone more capable stepped in? My father kept me inside a protective bubble most of my life, and yet look at what his fate had been.

When did everyone decide that they wanted to be lazy? To let someone else save the day all the time? It was possible to be a hero without needing the job title, right?

The Naruhata Vigilantes, themselves, had proven that they didn't need a pro hero license or training to be qualified to save people. They, I thought as my grip tightened slightly on the Crawler, they decided to be heroes despite that. They did it without looking for the fame — I hear so little about them in comparison to the charts of pro heroes, after all — and in retrospect, the first thing they did was make sure I was safe.

The tears streamed down my face again, leaving me to bury my face in the vigilante's chest.

I wanted to be a hero… all my life, it was the only thought that got me through another monotonous day inside… and that night only proved all the things I had been thinking were true. Everything I thought was only suspicion.

"The body in the building has been confirmed as Kisaski Kirita. There aren't any records of where her mother disappeared to. We'll have to put her into foster care."

Those were Detective Tsukauchi's words after the Crawler asked him what would happen to me.

And why wouldn't it? My day went to hell, so why not do it to the rest of my life?

"Then.. if it's not a bother… would you mind forgetting about the paperwork for all that, and just let us take her? She's lost everything… I couldn't possibly leave her to that fate."

My head snapped up to stare into the face of the vigilante. Is he really saying…?

He looked down on me, his grin so big it was almost visible through his black face mask. "What do you think, Chise Kirita? Would that be okay with you?"

Would it…? I thought, tears falling from my eyes full force again, and yet… not a sob was choked out of me. I still couldn't find the voice I had when it was just me against the Quirkless Killer, and yet… this vigilante brought light into my life when I thought it was about to be snuffed out without ever being able to make a purpose for it.

It was thanks to him that I had the chance to be something — to work hard to be the hero I originally wanted to be before my dad single-handedly crushed that dream because of his own past traumas. And I was even being given a choice to be considered his family! Which meant a better possibility at getting the training I'd always wanted, and already cheating the system so I didn't go through multiple foster families and stayed in an orphanage with cruel children.

The Crawler was the true hero that night. The Crawler and Pop Step, who nodded at me just as eagerly when I looked curiously over at her.

A weak smile pushed its way on my face as I nodded wordlessly.

Thanks to them… I would train to become Japan's first quirkless hero.

Thanks to them… I would prove that one didn't have to have a quirk to be a hero, or to save others.

Thanks to them… I could learn to be my own hero.

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Author's Note: One last note to give thanks to LunaWolfWriter from Wattpad for our discussion of the Quirkless Killer's quirk. It'll be explored more in another chapter for certain reasons :P but rest assured Chise will be able to prove her hard effort worthwhile.

As for her name, I had decided on names from one of my other favorite animes as well as a favorite of my husband's:

1. Some of you may know of Chise from Ancient Magus' Bride — beautiful name and beautiful show — and that's part of why her hair color is reddish orange.

2. Kirita is my twisted version of Kirito, master swordsman of Sword Art Online. I apologize to any fans as I claim blatant ignorance on the fact I never knew anything about it besides that my husband absolutely loves it. I will one day watch it from the beginning, because right now in Alicization I don't know all the history. Otherwise, it is a great story and I love the main character's name.

Thank you for reading!