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"Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him."
― Jennifer Donnelly, Revolution
Two
5 years
She had a friend once. He was fierce and burning brighter than the sun and he was always just there. He wasn't a particularly nice individual and quite often, he said things that hurt others – hurt her. But when they played Hero and Villain with his group of friends, he always convinced the others that she would be a good hero, just you wait! And then her fourth birthday came and went, and she did not develop her mothers' attraction or her fathers' breath of fire. And then Kacchans' – her very best friends' – fourth birthday came, and he exploded his exam sheet. She hoped with all of her tiny being that she was a late bloomer. There have been occurrences where a quirk manifested later in life – some people had been a whole 6 years old!
They visited the doctor – just to be sure. At home she watched All Mights' videos over and over again.
"Mom, I'm gonna be a hero. I'm sure. I'm gonna be a hero."
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry!"
She told Kacchan and –
"You can't play with us anymore! Without a quirk you'll never be a hero! Useless Deku!"
She was five and no one wanted to play with her anymore.
Three
6 years
Her father left. Two years after the fateful day in the doctors' office the tension between her parents seemed to snap and fizzle – a lot like Kacch- Katsukis' explosions. Her mother was screaming at her father, calling him bad names and Izuku sat leaning against her door, hands on her ears – but she heard them anyways.
"I can't live like this anymore!"
"You can't treat our daughter like this!"
"What is she going to become? A cleaning lady?! There are people with cleaning quirks, there are tons of people who are better at everything than her!"
"Stop right there-"
"And who is going to marry her? The chance that her little bastards are quirkless too is always there – and so she will always-"
"She's going to be a wonderful woman and her children will be perfect the way they are! How can you say things like that?"
Her mothers' voice broke at the end of the sentence and Izuku felt herself tremble.
"And you! You should stop coddling her! And you should stop looking for why she is like this! And this constantly blaming yourself for her goddamn disability-"
"She's our daughter!"
"She's a cripple!"
The door slammed. It sounded final, like the last forlorn sound of a sonnet. Like the last whispers of a dying man. Like her world crumbling down – oh so slowly.
She heard her mother sob – only once.
The door slammed again.
She was alone.
Four
7 years
Her father did not come back, but her mother did. She was quiet and withdrawn, but she tried to smile for Izuku and she was happy that she had this left. This, this slow, heartfelt, sweet smile of her mother and her warm hugs and her love filled eyes. This, she valued above everything.
And thus, she did not tell her mother about the jeers, the beatings, the hair pulling, the shoving, the hateful name calling. She bore it with a sense of finality, with a sense of hopelessness – because even if her mother thought of her as just enough, the teachers and her classmates made her all the more aware that she was less.
Home was a dream and school was cruel reality.
Five
8 years
She met a girl on the streets. And she was like her. Izuku had never met someone like herself. She'd bumped into the girl quite by accident, since she was carrying a few groceries for her mother in both hands and didn't see very much above the towering paper bags. The girl helped her gather the fallen items – and stole the bananas and a loaf of bread, she later realized. They talked a little and Izuku learned that the girl called herself Munchkin because she had no other name and it sounded cute – like munchkin cats with their little legs. Munchkin lived on the streets and wasn't sure how old she was. Izuku shyly – distrustfully – said that her dream was to be a hero – was it really? She wasn't sure anymore. Munchkin laughed and Izuku flinched sharply, drew into herself, started mumbling excuses and backing away. But Munchkin put one of her dirty hands on Izukus' shoulder to stop her from leaving and pinned her with a serious look.
"Society would never allow a quirkless hero."
And with a wry twist of her lips: "And society is always right."
But what if it wasn't?
That day, Izuku asked her mother how one would describe it, if the society, the whole system of a state would just – suddenly – change.
"Revolution.", her mother said.
A steady drumming noise started in her heart, vibrated through her fingers and up into her head, until all she could see, all she could feel was her hands – clenched and small, but not useless.
"Revolution.", she repeated.