Title: Legacy
Chapter(s): 1/1
Rating: G
Fandom: BNHA
Summary: It ended, like all things do, as it began.
Just a warm-up drabble I thought was kinda neat. Trying to get back into the swing of writing regularly.
This was kind of a bittersweet idea, but I really wanted to explore the way Izuku would respond to being asked the question All Might was. Having been quirkless in an age where having a quirk was normal and mattered as a part of your inherent identity, his perspective on the issue is different from All Might's.
Not to mention, being All Might-esque where you operate on all-consuming power is not the only way to fight or to be a hero and I feel like Midoriya would see that.
He's a seasoned hero close to starting to wind down his hero career in this fic, so I wanted to... write about what that interaction may look like.
If you see any glaring errors, feel free to let me know. I only gave this a cursory glance, so there's a chance I may have missed a few loose apostrophes here and there.
Happy Holidays, everyone.
It was almost funny how similar the situation was.
He was on a routine patrol, peaceful for the most part—Pro Hero Deku's presence tended to waylay most hypothetical villains—with only a mild hiccup towards the end.
There was an alley, oft unnoticed, beside a new gimmick restaurant that had opened a few months prior. It cut between several busy streets, connecting several blocks together. This was useful because while it was true that most people weren't looking up while navigating Musutafu, jumping up and over buildings was… kind of a pain.
It was quicker, more energy-efficient, and less eye-catching.
That's when he caught a kid, barely a teenager, being mugged as he made a detour through the narrow pathway, nearly obscured by several garbage bins. Good thing he did, too, because their attacker had what looked like a pocket knife to their jugular.
Thoughtlessly, as he'd done countless times since he'd become a pro, Izuku swooped in on One for All powered legs and kicking the knife out of the man's hands, sending it spinning down the alley. He made quick work of the would-be mugger next, cuffing his hands as the man's cheeks went an irritated, huffy shade of ice blue—his quirk, perhaps?
The threat taken care of, he turns to the kid, checking them for any obvious wounds. The child was plain, probably no older than seventeen at the most, with a relieved, if a bit awestruck, look on their face. He's pleased when he finds nothing amiss, putting his hands on his hips as he lets out a satisfied huff.
"It's alright now!" Izuku cheers, a characteristic grin on his face.
"Th-thank you so much for saving me," they say, pressing their fingers together. Nervous.
He nods, and on an impulse, pats the child's shoulder in brief comfort. Being mugged was scary for anyone to experience, after all.
"Well," he says, taking stock of his surroundings, "I'd best be getting this guy to the station. Do you need me to get another hero to walk you home?"
"Uh, n-no sir, I'll be just fine… thank you. Again, I mean."
He nods again, a finality to the jerk of his head, and turns to leave with a firm hold on the mugger he had draped over his shoulder.
"W-wait!" he hears and swivels around to give the child in question a cursory glance. Did he need to call another hero after all? "I… I have a question."
"Oh?"
The kid's gripping their shirt in a white-knuckled grip, shoulders hunched but a fierce look on their face. Izuku turns to face them fully, backtracking until he's in front of them.
Despite the bravery, it takes the child a few beats to compose themself, visibly conflicted over what they were about to ask. Izuku waits them out, but the mugger is blowing icy breath into his neck as some sort of retribution, and it's—getting kind of cold.
"Can… can I be a hero without a q-quirk?" they ask at last, stumbling and hunching even further in on themself than he'd previously thought possible.
Quirkless? Not having a quirk in this day and age was even rarer than it'd been when he was a teen.
It was ironic.
Like a punch to the gut, the question brought him back decades, before he'd become number one, before he'd become a pro, before UA, before All Might and One for All. It gives him pause.
He thinks of himself, he thinks of a scrawny fourteen-year-old that had clung to his idol in pursuit of a desperate dream, an all-consuming passion no one thought he could pursue. He thinks and thinks and thinks—about legacy, about hope, about change, about pain and struggle. The question cycles through his mind.
He thinks about that fourteen-year-old with too big a heart and a fragile dream. He'd made it somehow, but in a different way than first intended.
Izuku Midoriya, Pro Hero Deku, was not All Might. He didn't need another bearer One for All, didn't have the same ideas, and for another—had long since surpassed him.
A wane grin grows on his face. The mugger snorts, obviously derisive of the idea. Izuku nods and uses his free hand to ruffle the kid's hair.
"Of course- of course you can. You can be a hero, quirk or not."