The Golden Roach

by RayRox360

The world will praise your differences. As long as those differences make you stronger. Quirklessness does not make you stronger. It makes you weak. But Izuku is determined to change that - in whatever way he can. He just has to hope that Eraserhead doesn't mind another vigilante prowling his territory. Maybe if he's lucky, he'll get a signature right before getting arrested.

Chapter 1: Prelude Part I

---

Izuku was four years old the first time he was called a "roach."

It was a Saturday. It had to be, because Saturdays were when his mother held her weekly book club and a handful of her friends came over to read, though Izuku never recalled seeing many books when they visited.

But besides that, Izuku remembered being excited.

The way he only ever was on Saturdays. When Hiro came over to visit.

He remembered sitting in his bedroom, perched on a bed with bright All-Might sheets, gripping an Ingenium crayon pack and writing in his Best Jeanist notebook. To fill the time while he waited, Izuku sat quietly in his room away from the sounds of shrill laughter and clinking glasses that echoed from down the hall, and focused on his notebook. On his numbers.

They'd learned about vowels in class yesterday. 5 vowels. 23 example words. 78 individual letters. 26 minutes and 13 seconds for the whole lesson.

Later on the playground, kicking their legs on the swings, Kacchan had shown him his newest Edgeshot trading card. 1 new card. 11 in total, the most of anyone in their class. Endeavor, Ingenium, Best Jeanist, Gang Orca, Wash, Ryukyu, Fat Gum, Crust, Ectoplasm, Present Mic and now Edgeshot. (No All-Might though. Nobody had gotten lucky enough to score one of those.)

After, his mother had taken him to the grocery store. They'd ridden the subway. Station 31. 59 people in the car. 148 tiles on the roof. 7 handrails. 45 seats.

On and on, Izuku recalled the details of the previous day. Every number he'd noticed. Every detail he'd counted and stored away for later. His mother always looked at him funny when he stared at the ceiling or gazed off at a group of people watching the heroes. He wondered if maybe she didn't like his counting. Which is why he wrote them down instead of saying them out loud now.

To his mother, his notebooks - stacks upon stacks of hero-themed packets with bright colors and messy crayon scratches - were filled with nothing but random numbers, disconnected words and the occasional disjointed scribbles of a four-year-old.

But Hiro would ask. Hiro would sit and point and ask Izuku to explain what the numbers were and his eyes would light up when Izuku would babble excitedly about vowels and ceiling tiles and hero trading cards.

So he sat and he wrote and he waited patiently for his brother to come home.

It was during this scribbling that Izuku heard it, his mother saying his name.

Instantly curious, the boy rose to his feet and carefully set his notebook down on the pillows before trotting out of the room. His mother usually didn't like when he disturbed her while she was with her friends, so his footsteps were instinctively silent as he walked down the hall, stopping right at the entrance to the living room. Little hands pressed into the beige wall as he wondered what his mother wanted. She had said his name, right?

"-exactly what I'm worried about. Everyone in his class has started to get their quirks already and Izuku still hasn't shown any signs of manifesting one."

The boy's fingers dug into the wall, leaving little scraps in the plaster.

He peered around the corner and spied a glance at the women sitting around the couch. He wasn't particularly fond of his mother's friends. Their nails were too long and their perfume too strong and their hugs too tight. When they spoke, their voices were high-pitched and squealy in a way that made Izuku's stomach grumble uncomfortably, like he'd eaten a bad egg. And when they smiled at him, their lips seemed to stretch too wide, cracking their faces in a disjointed, manic grin that made him want to hide behind his mother's legs.

Their voices were lower than the usual grating ring. They weren't laughing.

And his mother wasn't smiling.

Because they were talking about Quirks. And nowadays, his mother always frowned when someone talked about Quirks. (Izuku had taken to hiding his superhero notebook. Didn't bother telling his mother about how he'd counted the stripes on All-Might's costume or the number of scales Crust had made on his shield when his latest villain fight was shown on the news.)

"Just give it some time, Inko. My Kenji was one month away from his fifth birthday when his finally came in. A real late bloomer."

"I know," his mother said softly, running a hand through her long green hair. "But...his eyes-"

"Don't mean anything yet. Once he gets his quirk, they'll probably change color. I'm sure it's just temporary. You're worrying over nothing."

"I don't know. Maybe it wouldn't hurt for her to start coming to terms with the fact that...well-"

"No."

"I'm not saying he won't get a quirk. He probably will. Just...maybe be prepared for a few...surprises is all I'm suggesting."

"He's not- he just needs more time, I'm sure of it."

"Inko, he's going to be five in three months."

"Oh, don't listen to them, hun. He's going to get a quirk. I'm sure of it."

"Don't start giving her false hope."

"It's not false hope! There's still time."

"I don't know."

"What if he's..."

"Girls, please-"

"Stop dancing around it, you three. If none of you have the guts to say it, then I will." The loudest of the bunch, a rotund women with bright pink hair and garish red lipstick took a sip of her glass. "Inko, you might have to face it. Your kid might be a roach."

"Hana! Don't say that! What's wrong with you?"

"Oh please! Don't get all politically correct with me! You're all thinking the same thing."

"You can't be using language like that. That word...it's so disgusting. I don't want to hear it! And Inko definitely doesn't want to!"

"Calm down, Yuki. She doesn't mean anything by it."

"No. I...I refuse to believe that. It can still happen. Izuku can still get a quirk. My son will NOT be a roach."

The woman shrugged her shoulders and grinned. There was a piece of lettuce stuck in one of her teeth. She scrapped at it with a manicured nail. "Doesn't have to be a bad thing, you know. Maybe you could even learn to get used to it."

"Hana-"

"Just have to hope he doesn't turn out to be a villain, heh. You've seen the numbers. What a trend."

"Stop it! All of you!"

His mother rose from the couch, fists balled at her sides and lips quivering in that way they only did when she was really mad. The others grew silent as she glared. "He won't be a villain because he won't be a roach. He WON'T! Understand?!"

There was a moment of stillness as the other women fidgeted in their seats or took silent sips of their glasses before someone cleared their throat and a hand reached out to pat Inko's.

"Of course."

"I'm sorry, Inko."

"His quirk will come. You'll see."

"It's not set in stone yet. Just give him some more time. There's always hope."

Izuku didn't say anything. Didn't venture into the room or listen anymore to the weak reassurances they were spouting. His eyes lingered on his mother. On the sharp look that still lingered in her eyes, a flat stare of displeasure that made her nose scrunch and her forehead wrinkle.

It made her look older. Tired.

---

At the time, Izuku did not understand the word. He'd heard of cockroaches, the scurrying little bugs that sometimes ventured out from underneath the fridge, but he didn't think they were talking about those. No, they were talking about something different. Something about him.

But even if he couldn't understand the word, he could understand how they said it. The looks on their faces when it had been spoken. The instinctive shriveling of their mouths and the upturning of their noses, like someone had retched at their feet and they were desperate to inch away from it.

Izuku did not know what it meant to be a roach.

But it certainly wasn't anything good.

---

Hiro never called Izuku a roach.

He never said Izuku was annoying or a handful or always getting under his feet as his mother sometimes did. No, every Saturday when Hiro would swing the door open and hang his school bag in the hall, he would call out for Super Zuku and wait for padded feet to skid around the corner. Then, he would stretch out his arms and wait for Izuku to launch himself, always sweeping the boy up in a huge hug with a kiss and a laugh.

Their mother would tell him to shut the door before the neighbors complained about all the noise and Hiro would kiss her too. The two of them would share stiff pleasantries, Hiro asking about their mother's job; their mom asking about Hiro's college classes. Izuku always noticed the slight tension between them, like they were more strangers sharing a chat than mother and son. He never asked Hiro about this, though. And Hiro never brought it up himself.

Instead, Hiro would always be ready to hear all about Izuku's week at school or about any new hero fights he'd seen on TV. And Izuku would be more than happy to sit on his brother's lap and flip through his notebooks. Hiro would point to a number. Izuku would tell him that it was the number of bolts he'd counted in the air conditioning unit outside Ms. Tanaka's garden, where she planted the prettiest flowers. 12 yellow, 10 blue and only 3 pink. Hiro's eyes would gleam as Izuku spoke and Izuku wondered what his brother was thinking when he talked about the subway station signs - 47 from their trip between the grocery store and home; or the lights outside Endeavor's agency building - 25; or how many bugs Kacchan had caught at recess the day before - 3 (4 if you count the one that bit him and got away. Add one band-aid that Izuku had tried to give him, only for Kacchan to slap it away.)

Hiro never rolled his eyes or told him to stop talking. He'd ask questions, tell stories of his own and sometimes even write down numbers that he'd thought to remember for Izuku's notebook specifically.

"I made sure to count the number of flower pots I passed on the way here. Just for you! People have too many plants, you know."

Hiro never called him weird. He never told him to put his notebooks away or to stop with his ramblings. He never looked at him funny when he stopped to count the number of commercials or the amount of peanuts in the snack bowl. He would just ask Izuku how many there were and Izuku was more than happy to answer every time.

Hiro was always there. Always kind. Always ready to listen with a smile and a laugh and a hug that was just right.

And for this, Izuku loved Hiro with all his heart.

---

Even when he yelled.

Hiro never yelled at Izuku, but every once in a while, he could hear him and their mom in the kitchen, voices loud and angry when Izuku would lie down for his nap.

One Saturday, when Hiro had kissed Izuku goodnight and was packing up his stuff to leave for the dorms, Izuku had heard the sound of whispered yelling from down the hall. Seemingly incapable of controlling the innate curiosity that wiggled in his stomach, Izuku again ventured out of his bedroom and quietly pressed himself against the hallway wall. He could see the shadows of his mother and brother moving against the picture frames.

"-don't know why you bother listening to those old shrews. They do nothing but gossip because they have nothing better to do with their miserable lives."

"Don't be so rude. And their concerns aren't for nothing. He's showing no signs, Hiro. None. Everyone else in his class has their quirk now. He's the last one!"

Hiro narrowed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Izuku knew his brother was 20. 16 years, 21 days and 14 hours older than him. He had a somewhat slender build as was common in their family and the traditional dark green hair that was shared amongst all of them. He kept it tied back into a short ponytail that prevented it from getting tangled in his glowing yellow eyes. Though the glow did little to hide the blatant anger that was shining through his gaze.

"I don't know why you put so much stock on that stupid quirk. Like you think the damn world will explode if he doesn't get one."

Their mother took a swig from her wine glass, brows pinched in frustration as she waited to finish swallowing before giving her reply. "His will. You know what his dreams are. He wants to be a hero so badly that sometimes I have to drag him away from his computer and that stupid All Might video! If he doesn't get a quirk, those dreams are gone, like that! It'll crush him."

Inko grabbed the dull blue wine bottle from the counter and glared at the label before topping off her glass with the last of it. Hiro watched her with a grim expression that Izuku had never seen on his brother's face before. Not so much angry as it was severe. Dark. Like a storm cloud thundering over his features and shading his eyes in a haze of disgust.

"Is that what you're really worried about?"

Another sip. She was reading the label now. "What?"

"Is that what you're worried about? Izuku? Or are you worried about having a quirkless kid for a son?"

Instantly, their mother's grip on the empty bottle tightened and her eyes flashed in rage. Izuku's fingers tightened around the door frame as she set the bottle down none too gently and pointed a sharp finger into Hiro's face. HIs brother didn't even flinch.

"Don't you dare question me."

"I heard how you talk about quirkless people with your friends. It's fucking disgusting. And you're afraid of what it'll look like having a kid with no quirk. Like it's some big fucking deal!"

"Don't you swear at me! And don't pretend to be so ignorant!" She ran a hand through her hair and stray strands flew up, giving her a disheveled, frantic look that matched the frenzy in her eyes. "You know how difficult his life will be if he ends up being quirkless! He'll be tortured for it. By everyone. At every turn. The world will chew him up and spit him out and for good reason!"

"Mom-!"

She pushed past him and strode towards the living room, Hiro following after her. Izuku pressed himself further against the wall, hoping the shadows were doing their job in masking his presence. She stooped down by the coffee table and grabbed a lone manilla file. She sounded breathless when she spoke again.

"Quirklessness is a disease. It's been all but confirmed!" She flipped open the file and revealed a massive stack of papers clipped together with various articles and newspaper cutouts. "Less than 12% of the population doesn't have a quirk. Barely anything anymore. They're a dying breed. And look at this!"

She pulled out a paper and thrust it into Hiro's chest, who floundered for a minute - eyes stuck on the thick folder in his mother's hands - before cautiously staring down at the paper now gripped between his fingers.

"Are you - are these...you've been researching this?"

"Quirkless people are 85% more likely to develop some sort of autoimmune or chronic disease with 72% showing signs of defective gene mutations and 45% developing severe immunodeficiency syndromes." She pulled out another paper. A few of them fluttered to the floor.

Four, to be exact.

"Bone density, joint strength, skin elasticity, white blood cell counts, platelets, organ function - all show signs of significant decrease or dysfunction in most quirkless people! Their bodies are sicker. Their immune systems are weaker. And that's just the biological components!"

"Mom-"

Another paper. Her voice rose in pitch. "Higher drop-out rates, poverty numbers, criminal records, intelligence deficits. I mean, look at the average life-span! 35, Hiro! They say most don't live past junior high! The suicide rate is 55%! More than half!"

She stopped, chest bouncing slightly with how heavily she was starting to breathe. She closed the file and pressed it against her bosom. Against the nearby lights of the kitchen, her eyes watered and her cheeks looked sunken. Like a skeleton with a flesh suit a few sizes too big.

"Being quirkless is a death sentence. Not just for his dreams. But for his life. And the whole world will tell him that," she whispered, voice wavering.

Hiro didn't say anything. Just kept staring down at the paper in his hands before wordlessly dropping it to the floor. Inko huffed and knelt down to snatch it up when he finally spoke again, almost too softly for Izuku to make out.

"He could be a hero."

Izuku sucked in a breath through his teeth. It whistled in his head.

"What?"

"Izuku. He could still be a hero."

Inko gripped the file and gave her son an exasperated look. "Now you're just being stupi-"

"Have you seen his notebooks?"

"Wh- I...of course. He leaves them lying all over the place."

"Have you seen what's inside them?"

"A bunch of random numbers! What's your point?" Their mother looked extremely frustrated by now. But Hiro just narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists by his sides.

"They're not random. Not to him. He remembers."

"Remembers what?"

"Everything! He remembers how many pieces of chicken were on my plate last week when we had takeout! He remembers the exact words I used two months ago when I told him the story about my roommate sneaking kittens onto campus. Verbatim. He even wrote them down in his notebook along with the sound effects I used. He's reading at a fifth-grade level and he's not even five yet!"

Hiro pressed a hand to his forehead and Izuku saw that familiar look of astonishment on his brother's face, the same expression he used when Izuku spoke to him about vowels or trading cards or the number of bricks there were between their house and the playground around the corner.

"I was talking to my mentors down at the school I intern at and when they heard about Izuku, they said that he has the makings of being a certified genius. I mean, come on, mom! That kid can do anything!"

At some point, Inko had taken a seat. She sat with her file cradled against her chest, wide eyes staring down at the carpeted floor, though her gaze looked empty. Like she wasn't really seeing anything. When she spoke, her voice seemed far away too. Like she was somewhere else.

"None of that matters without a quirk."

"Mom-"

She lowered her head and her forehead pressed against the edge of the folder. "I wish it wasn't true. Goddamn it, Hiro. I wish to God it wasn't true! But the fact of the matter is that if he doesn't get his quirk, he will never have a place in this world!"

Hiro stared at her from down the bridge of his nose. His eyes gleamed, masking his face in a veil of sharp yellow light.

"Not if we don't make one for him."

Their mother sighed before slowly raising her gaze to meet her eldest's. Her lips pulled into a deep frown as she stared. "Are you really willing to do that? Go up against the whole of society, where hero and quirk worship are on every single corner-store? You're going to try to convince everyone that not having a quirk - a fundamental aspect of our civilization - is okay? That such a misstep in evolution isn't a clear mistake?"

She tilted her head and gazed up at her son with a thoughtful look of doubt. "You're really willing to put up that fight?"

Hiro met her gaze with a challenge of his own - a rebellious glare that matched the tightness of his jaw and the stiffness of his shoulders.

"You AREN'T?"

Inko hesitated for a moment and opened her mouth but no reply came out. Instead, she turned away and gazed over towards the windows at the far end of the room. She never once released her strangle-hold on the files in hand. And when she spoke, her voice again sounded distant. Far away.

"He has to get a quirk, Hiro. He just has to."

"For whose sake? His...or yours? After all, wouldn't want the neighbors to gossip, right?"

This time, they both glared.

Izuku didn't.

"I can be a hero?"

Instantly, the two adults whipped around towards the new voice and fixed Izuku with wide-eyed stares. Inko floundered and quickly shoved the files between the seat cushions before rushing to her feet. Hiro just stared at him with a mixture of shock and heartache.

"Zu...I was just-"

"Izuku-" Their mother's voice shivered like glass about to shatter. "Honey, go back to bed. Your brother and I are talking about adult stuff and-"

"No we're not." Hiro turned his back on her and started making his way towards the little boy. "Not anymore."

Izuku didn't move. Didn't run towards his brother like usual. He just stood in the doorway, All-Might pajama pants pooling around his slippers like water. He fiddled with his fingers and stared tentatively up at his brother as the man stepped forward and crouched down in front of him. His brother's eyes, as usual, emitted that faint yellowish glow - his quirk. In the darkness of the hall, they lit up even more.

"You said I can be a hero..." he whispered, voice small.

"I did. Because I believe it."

"But I don't have my quirk yet."

(But I'm a roach is what he wanted to say, but at the last minute, his mouth moved in a different direction.)

Hiro stared at him for a long moment, amber eyes glowing warmly as he lifted a hand and rested his palm on the crown of Izuku's head, pushing curls down around his eyes. "Maybe you'll get it. Maybe you won't. But I know you. And I know that the world would be lucky to have a hero like you looking out for them."

He paused and his face stretched into a smile. Nothing like the stiff, crackly smiles of his mother's friends. This smile was just like the glow in his eyes. Soft and warm and ever-present. A comforting light in the otherwise dim, darkened house. A constant warmth. Izuku lifted a hand and gently swatted at the necklace around his brother's neck, a simple metal chain around a silver ring. A birthday present their mother had helped him pick out. The first present Izuku ever gave him.

Izuku raised his hands and wrapped his arms around his brother's neck, who carefully picked the boy up and settled him on his hip.

"Just as lucky as we are to have you in our family."

He couldn't see Hiro's face when he said it. But he could see his mother's. And the way her nose crinkled and her lips turned made Izuku remember the disgusted grimace of her friends. It didn't look right on his mother's face. Didn't seem to fit. But she didn't say anything as Hiro wordlessly carried Izuku back down the hall and into his bedroom.

Hiro had been right. Izuku did seem to remember everything.

For even ten years later, that look on his mother's face would haunt his dreams.

---

Because soon enough, dreams were all he had of her.

---

"No, he's not hurt. But he was on my fucking doorstep for three hours! Anything could have happened to him!"

Izuku listened to his brother's voice screaming from down the hall and tightened his grip on his All-Might plushie. He didn't spare the room much of a glance, didn't bother in counting the knick-knacks and posters plastered around his brother's room. All he could do was sit in silence on top of the bedspread and stare down at the floorboards. There were no tears. Not yet.

"I don't know. I've been ringing her nonstop but she's not picking up. I called her neighbor and he said he saw her packing boxes into her car! I...I don't - I don't know what to do! She just-"

"She just left him!"

He shut his eyes.

(The doctor's office had been incredibly cold, frigid enough to cut through his jacket and make his arms bumpy and tight. He sat in the corner of the room, sitting on the floor playing with the action figures the doctor had offered him out of the toy bucket. He picked up the All-Might toy and inspected the many scratches and dings marring the plastic surface. The toy was old. Weathered. How many children had played with it?)

("By his age, he should have already manifested a quirk. But I don't think that will be the case here.")

(His mother sat with the doctor across the room. Izuku kept the conversation in the back of his mind. His ears twitched as they spoke. Some of the words were too big - he'd have to ask Hiro what they meant - but he listened anyway. His mother didn't look happy. She never really looked happy anymore.)

"Yeah. I got back from class and he was just sitting there. There were a few boxes and a note. Yeah, I still have it. No, it doesn't say where she's going. It just...oh my god. Oh my goddd..."

("Physically, there are a few differences between bodies that evolved to handle quirks and those that did not. For those with a quirk, unnecessary body parts and organs are forgone and the physical form is streamlined into a more efficient system. But you can see here that in your son, these changes have not been implemented.")

("He still has his appendix and all four of his wisdom teeth, a true rarity nowadays considering most bodies are completely missing these components seeing as they serve no true function. Additionally, his x-rays show the appearance of an extra pinkie-joint, which is a hallmark sign of quirklessness.")

"Yeah, I'm over 18, but I live with roommates, so I don't know what - I... No. He hasn't said anything. I...I think he had a doctor's appointment yesterday."

("And then there's his eyes...Green irises are all but extinct now. And the rare cases we DO see are all in...well, in quirkless populations.")

"He just turned five and...just - god, I don't know what to do. I have classes. My roommates will be home soon. They're chill but I can't keep him here. I can't... No. No, don't send someone. He's...I'll figure it out. Just...please send someone to her house. Find her. Tell me what happened."

("All in all, it's very unlikely that your son will ever develop a quirk. I'm sorry.")

"She can't just...she can't just do this to us. To him."

---

"It's because I'm a roach."

He said it suddenly, so suddenly that Hiro actually startled at his desk and whirled around.

The sun had set hours ago and Hiro's roommates were watching TV in the living room. They'd awkwardly invited Izuku and Hiro to join them, but Izuku much preferred the quiet atmosphere of his brother's room, listening to Hiro's fingers tacking the keys of his laptop as he worked and Izuku stared down at a bowl of fresh ramen, which was apparently the only semi-acceptable form of food in the entire apartment.

Not that he'd touched any of it.

" What?" Hiro blinked at him, like he was unsure of if the boy had spoken or not.

"Mommy. She left, didn't she?"

It was the first thing he'd said all day save for the brief hello and explanation of "Mommy said to give this to you." that he'd offered when his brother had finally gotten home and the letter was shoved into his hands.

Hiro, either not expecting his brother to have suddenly spoken or just unsure as to how to answer, tripped over his words, jaw tightening slightly as he slowly spun his chair around to face him.

"I...um..."

"It's because I'm a roach."

And suddenly the tears were falling. And Hiro was shooting to his feet, face pale and hands shaking.

"Zu. That's...no. That's not-" He rushed over, almost tripping over his feet as he knelt down and grabbed the boy's shoulders, eyes frantic and shining with a frenzied yellow glow. "Where did you hear that word? Did she say that? Did she call you that?"

Izuku shook his head and fat tears splattered against the sheets. Hiro quickly removed the bowl of ramen from his lap before it could spill all over. "Her friends were t-talking. I heard them call me that. I-It's because I don't have a q-quirk, right? So now I'm...yucky. And she doesn't w-want me anymore." He hiccupped and roughly pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears shining down his cheeks. His lip trembled and he curled away from his brother's touch. "You won't want me either. I'm too gross."

There was an ache, a pain - sharp and overwhelming - stabbing him in the chest. It made his throat sting with that familiar tang of vomit as his body got hot and red all over. A wave of shame suddenly overtook him and the tears flowed harder, streaking down his face and mucus dribbling from his nose as he sobbed. There was something wrong. Something wrong with him. And now his mom was gone. And he didn't even know what he'd done, much less how to fix it.

Hiro's hands were shaking against his shoulders. Izuku refused to open his eyes, didn't want to see that same look of putrid disgust warping his brother's features.

"Izuku..." the young man's voice shook with a violent shudder. "Listen to me right now. Don't ever call yourself that, alright?" He pried the kid's hands away from his face and Izuku's big green eyes shone back at him. "You are not a roach. You're my brother and I love you more than anything in the whole wide world! I don't care that you don't have a quirk!"

Hiro was yelling. But now there were tears in his eyes too. Izuku didn't understand.

"But-"

"HEY." His eyes narrowed and the grip on Izuku's shoulders tightened. "I don't care. Not one bit. I don't...I...damn it." Hiro shoved a hand into his eyes as the tears began to stream down his cheeks and Izuku had to look away. His brother was crying now. He'd never seen his brother cry before but he was crying now and it was all his fault.

(Roach)

(Roach)

(ROACH)

"I'm sorry..."

He tried to curl away from his brother's touch, but suddenly there were hands on either side of his cheek, forcing him still. Hiro stared down at him, tears still streaming and eyes glowing with a vividness that Izuku had never seen before. It gave the whole room a faint yellow tint. Izuku stared into the light with wide eyes, little hands coming to wrap around his brother's wrists.

"Don't apologize. Please don't."

Hiro's thumbs gently ran down Izuku's cheeks, wiping away the tears. More replaced them but Hiro's touch never wavered. "This isn't your fault, honey. I..." His voice cracked and his throat bobbed before a wavery smile slowly spread its way onto his face. "I just...I love you so much, Izuku. Do you know that? I love you because you're so smart and kind and brave and you inspire me every single day to be the best person I can be."

Gently, the man picked Izuku up and cradled him in his arms, sitting them both down on the bed with the child resting on his lap. Izuku pressed his cheek into his brother's chest and listened to the faint shimmer that he could hear as his eyes glowed.

"Because I want to make you proud. I want to be a brother you can look up to. And a quirk doesn't change that. Because a quirk doesn't change this." He lifted a hand and pressed it against his own chest before moving it to Izuku's. "Or this."

Izuku blinked up at him before carefully resting his hand against his brother's chest. Faintly, he could feel the soft thrumming of his heart underneath his fingertips. Hiro grabbed the boy's hand and moved it to feel for his own heartbeat.

"You feel that? Just the same as mine, right?"

"Yeah..."

"You don't have a quirk. But yours sounds just the same as mine, feels just the same as mine and beats just the same as mine." Hiro lowered his head and pressed his nose into the crown of Izuku's curls. "You're not a roach, Izu. You're my family. And you'll always be my family, you understand?" Izuku wiped at his cheek, felt the tears beginning to slow as he curled up tighter into his brother's arms.

"I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry mom couldn't understand. But it's not your job to make her understand. It's your job to play and be happy and be loved. And if she can't do that, then...t-then I'll do it for her. I'll...I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out, okay?"

His brother's voice sounded strange. Wobbly, like he was about to cry again. Izuku glanced up, but Hiro was just smiling down at him, carding his fingers through Izuku's big green curls. The little boy glanced over at the discarded All Might plushie sitting a little ways away. He silently reached over and pressed it against his chest, squeezing it as hard as he could. His voice was quiet.

"What's going to happen now?"

His brother's was the same. "I don't know."

He stared out at the room, watched the shadows move as Hiro blinked and moved his head. His glow was still bright, still emotional and super-charged. He wondered if his brother's roommates could see the glow coming from under the door. He reached up and twisted his fingers around his brother's necklace.

"Mommy said that...that people would be...mean to me."

"They might be."

"Why? I didn't...do anything wrong, did I?"

"No, honey. You didn't. They're just...scared."

"Of what?"

"Of people who are different. And...not having a quirk makes you different."

(Roach.)

"Bad different?"

"Just...different."

Izuku swallowed, not really understanding. He felt his brother shifting underneath him and suddenly the man was turning Izuku to face him. The glow was in his face now. It was strange. He'd always compared his brother's quirk to a candle, a constant never-ending glow that was most obvious in the dark. His brother always complained about having trouble sleeping with a 'built-in flashlight right in my face.'

But right now, looking into his brother's eyes, Izuku couldn't see them as anything other than the sun. The glow wasn't painful or harsh, but kind. Warm. That feeling of light seeping into your frigid, ice-cold skin, sending shivers of joy down your spine and goosebumps that melted into smooth comfort. It made him want to stare and keep staring because the longer he looked, the stronger he could feel that sun beginning to burn within him, warm and steady as it spread through his body and burned away the last remnants of shame his mother had stained him with.

"Izuku...it's going to be hard. And I wish I could shield you from everything that's going to happen from here on out but I can't. All I can do is...be here. By your side, no matter what." His brother smiled, resting his palm against the side of Izuku's cheek. The boy leaned into the touch and kept staring at that sun.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise. Because you don't need a quirk to be amazing. You already are. And...you don't need a quirk to be worthy of love. You just need one of these."

A finger poked into his chest again. It didn't ache as much anymore.

"And Izu? Yours is the brightest I've ever seen."

The boy blinked and tightened his grip on the toy. He glanced down at the toothy grin of All-Might flashing back at him. All-Might, with that same light in his face - that same feeling of safety and protection and warmth that his brother shone every day. Just like those heroes. Always making everything...

Brighter.

"Could...could I still...be a hero?"

Hiro's arms tightened around him and Izuku closed his eyes and tucked himself into his brother's chest. And for the first time since that doctor's appointment, for the first time since his mother had kissed him goodbye, maybe for the first time in a long while...Izuku felt loved. Worthy. Capable of-

"Izuku...you can be everything."

---

Things did get harder, though.

Much harder.

---

Hiro dropped out of college in the middle of the semester.

He used the money he'd saved for the next term to rent a nearby apartment. It was a small place with drafty walls and rusted pipes. And when the landlord came to introduce himself, he took one look at Izuku's big green eyes before sneering and gruffly stating the rules of the place before shuffling out.

"Don't worry about him," his brother had said as he closed the door. "He's probably just grumpy because he put his shoes on the wrong feet this morning."

The floorboards creaked when they moved around and the paint was beginning to peel from the walls and there was barely any space in Izuku's new room for his meager box of things. But they managed to fit his bed into the corner and even hung up a few decorations, including Izuku's favorite All-Might poster – the one he'd gotten last year at the Hero Convention his brother's friends had taken them to.

Izuku still decided to sleep in Hiro's bed that night. Hiro didn't seem to mind, even though his "bed" was just a mattress on the floor.

---

Izuku was quiet for that first week. And the second. And the third. He spoke when his brother asked him questions or talked to him directly, but the boy didn't say much of anything when there were lapses. If Hiro didn't open up a conversation, the apartment fell into a deadly silence save for the rumbling of water through the overhead pipes.

When he wasn't quiet, he was crying.

He cried when his brother took him to buy new clothes because his old shirts were starting to get too small for him and his mother had promised that they would go shopping later - though this later had never seemed to come.

He cried when they had dinner for the first time in their little apartment, a quick meal of instant ramen that Hiro had to heat up with a hot plate he'd borrowed from his old roommates. They ate on the floor with plastic chopsticks and Hiro tried to smile.

He cried when Hiro renewed his yearly pass for his gymnastics class. When Hiro asked if he wanted to stop gymnastics, Izuku roughly shook his head no but didn't elaborate on the tears. Didn't explain the hot, sticky feeling that lingered in his stomach whenever his brother spent money on him.

And every time, every time the tears would rush to the surface and his throat would close in a suffocating vice-grip that made his face go red, Izuku would turn away or bury his face or run out of the room. Because he never wanted his brother to see him. Didn't want his brother – who was working so hard and spending sleepless nights looking for jobs and wasting so much money on clothes and toys and books for Izuku – to see that his brother was so ungrateful that he couldn't stop crying.

Crying for his mom, who didn't even want him. Crying for Kacchan, who didn't speak to him anymore unless it was to mock him. Crying for something he couldn't put into words. Crying because that sticky hot feeling in his stomach never seemed to go away anymore. Not when the kids refused to touch him for fear of getting sick with his disease. Not when the teachers barely looked him in the eyes anymore. Not when the janitor always cleaned his desk and his desk only with the extra-strength chemicals. Not when people on the streets would do double takes at the sight of rare, green, quirkless eyes.

And yet-

Every time Izuku ran out or hid his face or tried to choke down the tears, Hiro would appear. He would stare with a gentle smile, pull Izuku's hands away from his face and gently card his fingers though the boy's big green curls. Sometimes he would ask Izuku why he was crying – if it was something he could fix. Sometimes he wouldn't – when it was something they both knew he couldn't.

Regardless, Hiro would sit his brother on his lap and wrap his arms around him and press his nose into the crown of Izuku's head and rock him. Sometimes he'd ramble softly about his day, sometimes they'd just sit in silence.

The house would creak and the pipes would groan and the walls would shift with the wind, but the two brothers would sit and cling to each other as if they were all they had in the world.

Because they were.

---

Hiro had a girlfriend once.

Izuku remembered her back when he was even smaller. She had been a petite woman with dark purple hair cut short and round owl-like glasses that framed her thin face.

He remembered going out with the two of them on day trips, back when his mother was still present enough to need the occasional break from him.

They would walk down the streets and pop into random stores, trying on ridiculous hats and mismatching scarves and putting on impromptu fashion shows there in the aisles. After, they would stop by the local Yakitori stalls and sit on the curb eating chicken skewers and making up stories for the people walking past.

It wasn't until Izuku turned seven that he heard her name again.

"Were you talking to Maya last night?"

Hiro, who had been in the middle of lifting his chopsticks to his mouth, paused and put down the rice ball, tilting his head at Izuku who was suddenly red in the face and staring hard at his onigiri.

"How'd you know?"

"I…heard you say her name on the phone. When you came home."

Hiro's job as the mid-shift night janitor at the local high school meant he usually came home at around 1 in the morning and would oftentimes find Izuku asleep on the ratty couch – some ancient piece they'd bought off the downstairs neighbor for only 2000 yen – having tried and failed to wait up for his brother to get home.

Hiro drummed his fingers against the table, not annoyed but in his own thoughtful way. "I…yeah. She was talking to me about a job opening at her place. She works at the vet down the block."

Izuku nodded and stuffed another chunk of rice balls into his mouth.

"I…want to find something else. Something that lets me…see you more, you know?"

And Izuku did know. Not that he wasn't appreciative of Mrs. Chiba – their 82-year-old neighbor who babysat Izuku for most of the day until his brother arrived home, but the woman smelled of mothballs and cigarettes and her face sagged almost as much as her breasts and her lazy eye always rolled around in her head with an unsettling lag. Still, she was nice and taught Izuku more than the occasional swear word – which she instructed he only use on the people that ever gave him a hard time about his eyes.

Her eyes were green, too. A much more common sight in the elderly, though still quite rare.

She was a spitfire to be sure and gave his brother a couple slaps upside the head when he'd attempted to pay her for her babysitting the first time. She'd scoffed and spit on the ground before flicking her hand and telling him to not be an idiot.

"What the hell else am I going to do with my time? At least this one here listens to me yammering on like a goddamn fool and fixes my TV for me. I haven't had to pay an electrician in months!"

Yeah. Izuku liked Mrs. Chiba. But she wasn't Hiro. And any job that would let him see his brother more?

"You should take it. And bring Maya. I miss her."

---

Apparently, Hiro missed her too.

Later that month, Izuku opened the door and a grin split his face so wide he thought his cheeks would burst when Maya shoved an All-Might backpack in his face and gave him a noogie that made his head throb and his heart swell.

---

"What do you want your costume to look like, Zuzu?" Maya asked while shoveling some popcorn into her mouth. Izuku liked Maya. She wasn't afraid to eat like the world was ending, fistfuls of candy or sugar or sweets pressing against her lips and dribbling from her cheeks like an overstuffed chipmunk.

Hiro and she sat together on the stuffy couch while Izuku sat on the carpet below, analysis notebooks and cards scattered around him as they watched TV. Every few minutes, the eight-year-old would add something new to his notebook or flip through his notes and scrunch his nose at the screen in deep thought.

Maya always called it his poopy-genius face. Because there was a 50/50 chance that he was either coming up with an elaborate scheme or just needed to use the bathroom.

(The first time she used the phrase, Hiro had laughed so hard at the offended look on Izuku's face that his cheeks turned purple and his eyes actually flickered like a dying lightbulb.)

"I don't know," Izuku murmured as he added a new sketch to his notebook. Most heroes didn't use weapons, relying only on their quirks. Some like Snipe and Rock-Lock used weapons and gadgets, but only as offshoots of their actual quirks. So Izuku would have to get creative.

"I'd like it to be something cool. But not too scary. Kacchan always used to say he wanted his costume to be scary so the bad guys would cry just by looking at him."

"That loser still giving you a hard time?"

"No."

"You're a shitty liar, Zuzu."

Hiro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Language. At least pretend to be a good role model."

Maya ignored him and sat up on the couch, craning her neck to peer down at Izuku's notebook.

"What are you working on?"

"I'm thinking of some knockout capsules I could make. I'm kind of tiny, so I wouldn't be able to rely too much on strength, but if I can put the villains to sleep, none of that matters. Though I'm wondering what kind of chemicals would be best."

He sniffed and flipped through a few of his pages. "Heavy gases like hydrogen cyanide, sulfide or phosphine could cause an immediate reaction, but they also have a higher likelihood of death if too much is inhaled. Like, hydrogen cyanide is a super cool chemical for incapacitation, but it also has some crazy toxicity, especially when it starts getting in the way of cytochrome oxidase, which means your cells won't be able to use any oxygen and then there's the issue of terminating electron transportation and it's all a big mess and I'd rather not like, kill anybody, you know? Cause that would be super not cool."

He hummed, reaching over to shovel a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth. "I could always try more common anesthetics like nitrous oxide, halothane or sevoflurane. They work pretty quick since they're designed to be inhaled, but the effects can wear off like, super-duper quick." He scratched at his cheek, picking at the Endeavor band-aid on his cheek that was covering his latest "accidental injury."

"Inhaled anesthetics aren't exactly easy to come by though, so I'd have to mix my own. The base components might be a bit easier to acquire but there's a bunch of little things to include. Like, who do you know that sells top quality Chlorosevo ether or Nucleophilic fluoride reagent? That's a funny word, isn't it? They're all funny words, actually. I'd love to name a chemical. I'd name it something like...Chromo Nitroflash."

He lifted his head to gauge Maya's reaction. She stared down at him with a slight furrow to her brows and a small quirk in her lips. "How old are you again?"

"Eight. I'll be nine in seven months, sixteen days and…what time is it?"

"7:15"

"-twelve hours."

"Christ, Hiro. Where the hell did you find this kid again?"

Hiro fiddled with the ring on his necklace. "I know, right? Did he show you the new toaster he made for us? All I asked was for something to replace the old one that caught on fire and now that thing holds all our phone messages and reads out the daily weather report."

"Well who wants a toaster that just toasts bread? That sounds boring."

Maya scoffed and ruffled Izuku's hair. "Well now you gotta come fix my microwave. I'd love to be able to hook up a Bluetooth speaker to that thing."

Maya stayed over more often than not nowadays, which made Izuku smile. It made Hiro smile too, he'd noticed. That excited glow in his eyes always seemed to flash brighter when he spoke to the girl, and Izuku could understand. Maya was always so nice to them, always cracking jokes, always goofing off and playing pranks.

But most importantly, she never seemed to get annoyed when Izuku talked about heroes. She always smiled and laughed and made him promise that he'd buy her a penthouse when he finally became a pro.

"The first quirkless hero, huh?" She'd said the first time he'd revealed the idea to her. "You know...that's what I love about you, Izuku. You're so unapologetically...yourself. A total brat, and a brave one at that!"

He didn't mind talking about his notebooks with her or his brother. They never seemed annoyed with his ramblings either. Not like the kids or teachers he knew.

At school, he'd accidentally fallen into the category of "know-it-all," which was all but inevitable. Hiro didn't have the money to get him officially tested or diagnosed, but his brother was always saying that Izuku was scary-smart and was most certainly "topping some records." And while the boy didn't like the idea of subscribing to such a label, it was hard for him to understand that sometimes, the rest of the world didn't run on the same track that his mind did.

(Last week, his classmates had been talking about the latest bullet train opening that Ingenium had spoken at, gushing about how the train seemed to float on air like magic.)

(When Izuku had tried to explain the concept of electromagnetic suspension and how cool it was for a train to move at 300 kilometers per hour without the use of physical wheels, the kids had stared at him like he was a nut and told the teacher he was bothering them.)

"Did you see?" Hiro said as he flickered through channels. "Apparently, Endeavor's officially made it to the number two spot. Overtook Ryukyu and Best Jeanist this week."

Maya hummed. "Dang. Maybe it's just me but that guy seems like a bit of a dick."

"Well, you might be too if your face was constantly on fire."

"Can't he like…I don't know – turn it off?"

Izuku tilted his head back. "Well, you can't turn your eyes off. Maybe he can't turn his fire off, either?"

"What if you hit him with a fire extinguisher?"

Maya raised a brow. "Like sprayed him with one or just straight-up hit him upside the head with it?"

Hiro rolled his eyes and smacked her with the pillow. Izuku listened to the two of them bickering behind him as his eyes trailed across the screen. They were talking about Endeavor's latest accension and the likelihood that he would ever be able to cross that number 1 line. The reporters were expressing their doubts, saying that it was unlikely that anybody would ever be able to surpass All-Might as number one and that the most anybody could ever hope for was the two spot.

Izuku tilted his head and glanced back down at his notebooks.

For years, he'd been keeping tallies on the rankings of the top one-hundred heroes. He'd already marked Endeavor as number two last week when the ratings were trending up, suggesting he would cross the line before the week was out.

Still…

"Why do they compete?"

Maya and Hiro, the latter of which was currently stuck in a headlock, blinked down at him and untangled themselves. "Hmm?"

"The heroes. Why do they compete with each other? Why don't they just work together?"

"They do."

"No, but I mean like…all the time." Izuku watched the report change to a polling study they'd done, measuring public opinion on the most popular hero and their subsequent net worth. All-Might's bar nearly went off the screen.

"No more number one or number two. Just one group working together?" He turned and stared up at his brother. "What does being number one matter?"

"Cause your royalties go through the roof."

"Maya-"

She raised her hands in surrender and grabbed the now-empty popcorn bowl before shuffling off the couch and over to the kitchen. Hiro rested his elbows on his knees and glanced down at his brother.

"I don't know, bud."

Izuku pursed his lips and turned back to the TV. He didn't know either. And he didn't like that, the not-knowing.

"It seems silly."

"Maybe it is." Hiro chuckled and reached down to ruffle his brother's hair. "Guess you'll have to change that when you become the new number one."

"Number one?"

"Yeah! What, you having doubts?"

"I...no. It's just..."

"Hey."

He lifted his eyes and met his brother's gaze. The man's eyes shone warmly as he smiled. "What am I always telling you? It's not the quirk that makes the hero. It's the head and the heart and the whole dang person." He chuckled, the lights in his eyes flickering in mischief. "So go be that person."

Izuku glanced back down at his notebook for a moment before casting one last look at the TV and the polls. They were showing the top ten heroes, a ranking that had remained fairly consistent for the last five years.

The heroes all looked so different, so unique. Eyes of all shapes and colors.

Except one.

"Green."

"Hmm?"

"My costume. I…I want it to be green." Izuku lifted his head and gave his brother a smile. "Like my eyes."

Hiro stared at him for a moment before matching his brother's grin with one of his own. He leaned back on the couch and rested his arm over the lip as Maya slid back into her seat and gave the two boys a wink.

"Seems fitting. You do have the coolest eyes I've ever seen."

---

The kids at school started to get bolder.

The first week of fourth grade, Kacchan and his friends stole his All-Might backpack and stuffed it in the toilet. When Izuku finally fished it out, he found it filled of garbage and old food from the cafeteria trash cans. When Maya asked where his backpack was later that afternoon, Izuku said he'd lost it.

On Pro-Hero Appreciation Day, the students moved Izuku's desk to the corner of the room and taped a paper to his desk that said: Future Villains Here. The teachers thought it was funny that the kids were having such fun role-playing being pros. They were even including the quirkless boy, after all.

Near the end of the school year, they started getting physical. One boy who was at least a head taller than him would slap his lunch tray out of his hands if he didn't sit down and scarf it up fast enough. Another boy would smack the back of his head whenever they passed in the hallways. The girl that sat in front of him with long black pigtails would cry out and scream that Izuku was always pulling her hair. The teacher ended up giving him so many detentions that they eventually moved him to the back of class, where the other kids would constantly throw pen caps and paper balls filled with spit.

Eventually, Izuku sat down at his desk one day and saw the words "Beware of Roach" carved into the wood.

He was suspended for damaging school property.

Hiro didn't even bother in calling the school anymore. They never answered his calls. Never responded to his emails. Never honored the appointments he tried to make with the principal.

"The schedule is packed," they would say.

"Your brother is a very troubled boy," they'd sigh.

"There's only so much we can do when he's constantly antagonizing the other students," they would chastise.

When his brother did get the rare meeting, Izuku would sit in the hallway and listen to his brother screaming in the other room. The secretary, who seemed to take a liking to him, would give him a sympathetic smile and sneak him a lollipop or two. She never said anything when the kids passing by would kick at his feet and spit on his hands, though.

She'd just shake her head and turn back to her computer.

Eventually, Izuku stopped talking to his brother about what happened at school.

There was nothing either of them could do about it, anyway.

So why bother?

---

After a while, Maya stopped visiting.

When Izuku asked, Hiro waved it away as she was busy at work.

When Izuku pushed, his brother snapped at him to drop it.

Hiro started to look tired again.

---

When Izuku turned ten, the neighborhood changed.

It had always been a community of low-income renters, minorities, heteromorphs and even the occasional quirkless person. There were more than a few gangs that affiliated with the streets and only one yakuza group within the actual boundaries of the neighborhood, but for the most part, they kept quiet. Good relationships with your neighbors meant less police calls, apparently. Izuku had even made friends with their leader from down the street, a heteromorph named Sumi who had six arms and giant spider-like pincers for a mouth. They operated near Izuku's building and the guy made no secret about his occasional criminal activities. Regardless, he made sure his crew left the apartment tenants alone. And he always waved back when Izuku greeted him on the street.

Maybe because the first time Izuku saw him, he'd shouted across the street about how cool his pincers were and asked if they had a crush strength proportional to that of the average spider, to which Sumi had stared at him confusedly and Hiro had whisked his brother away with an embarrassed chuckle

(Later that same day, Sumi had knocked on their door and Hiro, wide-eyed and stupefied - watched his little brother fearlessly ask the grown convicted felon if he could spit out webs and whether or not he'd ever tested the tensile strength in gigapascals before and then, when he said no, listening to his little brother offer to measure it for him with his homemade tensile tester.)

Lately, though, Hiro looked stressed. Worried. He fretted when Izuku walked to school alone and almost always called him on the phone during the walk, which was more than a little annoying.

Maybe it had something to do with the new gang that had settled in a few blocks away. Izuku hadn't seen much of it, but Sumi had mentioned them one day when he brought his laptop over for Izuku to fix. Somehow, the neighborhood had gotten it in their heads that Izuku could fix their broken tech twice as fast as the local shops and for the cost of a couple bags of chips or the occasional pizza.

"I don't like the looks of them," Sumi said, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee Hiro had whipped up for him. Izuku glanced up from the laptop he was fiddling with. The processing chip just needed to be replaced. Easy job considering he made his own.

"They're keeping to themselves for now, which is good cause they know this is our turf. But…I don't know, man." Sumi ran a hand through his red hair, pincers twitching in distain. "I've seen some of their flags waving around when we drive past them. Pictures of squished bugs and that new thing – that DNA….spiral symbol shit that's trending? And…"

He hesitated. Which made Izuku pause in his tinkering. Because if there was one thing a man like Sumi didn't do, it was hesitate.

Hiro leaned against the kitchen counter, brows furrowed and jaw tight. "What?"

Sumi folded two of his arms and let the other four rest against his hips. "They call themselves X-Terminators. Say they're here to right the evolutionary wrongs."

Izuku felt the air in their little apartment go stale and he twisted his head between Sumi and his brother, who was staring at their guest with an unreadable expression in his eyes. The glow seemed to flicker for a moment before burning bright once more.

"What does that mean?" Izuku said with a frown, glancing between the two men. Sumi leaned forward as if with something to say, only for Hiro to quickly come out from behind the kitchen counter and wave his hand.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said with a pointed forcefulness in his voice and a strong stare at Sumi.

The heteromorph rolled two of his six eyes and leaned back in his chair before pointing a finger at Hiro.

"Just watch your back, Midoriya. And keep an eye on the little man."

Izuku felt their gazes drift down to him and that hot sticky feeling suddenly erupted in his stomach full force.

"A good eye. We'll do what we can but…" Sumi scowled with what could only be assumed to be a frown judging by the way his pincers trembled angrily. "More and more are starting to think just like them. Not just in our neighborhood. All over the city. All over the nation."

The man stood, tone dark and eyes gleaming with an untold malice hardened by years of experience.

"If there's one thing people hate to do, it's tolerate."

---

Hiro started walking Izuku to school. Even though he hadn't done that since Izuku was eight.

He held the boy's hand, too, despite his brother's protests. And the whole way, Hiro would watch their surroundings like a man hunted.

Like an impending bomb was about to drop.

One night, when his brother assumed he'd already gone to bed, Izuku heard his brother on the phone, voice coming from his closed bedroom door, that distinct yellow light emanating slightly from the crack at the bottom.

"I don't know what to do, Maya," he heard his brother say.

"I'm so scared for him."

Izuku swallowed. And that stickiness grew.

"I'm so fucking scared."

---

In the coming months, Izuku started feeling that familiar stickiness more and more often. A hot, rotten weight sinking in his stomach that made his face heat up and his skin tingle, like it wanted to melt from his bones and curl away from him like frantic snakes.

It made him angry.

It made him scared.

Because it was always there.

When Hiro almost got arrested for punching the dad of the kid who'd broken Izuku's nose, that feeling latched onto his throat and made the air leave his lungs as he'd screamed and cried for his brother to stop.

When the quirkless man a few streets down had his house set on fire and his face smashed into the curb, the heat settled over his skin in a vibrating echo that made him want to curl up under the bed and vomit.

When Maya showed up at their door one day and Hiro sent him to his room to speak to her privately, that rotten sludge floated around his head as he sat against the door and listened to his brother cry in her arms.

Over and over, the feelings persisted.

Hiro got annoyed at him for leaving his notebooks or inventions all over the place.

Izuku got angry when Hiro wouldn't let him walk to the convenience store down the block to pick up some extra pens or aluminum wires, insisting on treating him like a child.

The apartment filled with a stale, trembling air of tension that only seemed to thicken every time a news report flashed across the TV announcing another attack on a heteromorph or a quirkless family.

Now, when Izuku would storm off to his room either with rage on his face or tears in his eyes, his brother would not follow.

The house was quiet.

---

"Goddamn it. God FUCKING DAMN IT, IZUKU!"

Hiro roughly pushed the ten-year-old into the apartment, eyes flashing in rage as Izuku defiantly spun around on his heel. He sniffed, blood dribbling down his nose for a second before he angrily wiped it away.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," he snapped, trying to stoke the fire in his stomach to hide the embarrassment. Hiro shouldn't have been awake. It was early. Just enough time for Izuku to slip out, grab a peak at the fight and sneak back in before his brother even woke up to take him to school. "The heroes were there. Nothing was going to happen."

"You got smacked in the fucking face by that debris. You're lucky those pieces weren't any bigger or they would have caved your goddamn skull in!" For once, Hiro's voice was not calm and smooth and reassuring. It shook with fury as his eyes blazed, bathing the entire apartment in yellow light. Izuku resisted the urge to wince away from it.

"What have I told you about chasing after hero fights, huh? What the fuck have I told you?!"

Hiro was mad. He never swore at Izuku.

But this week had been particularly bad and the stickiness especially acidic and Izuku couldn't bring himself to care. Because screaming felt good. The anger felt good, better than the silence and the emptiness and the pure nothing he'd been drowning in.

"It's not like I was the only one there! The heroes would never let anything bad happen to the crowds!"

"They can't control everything, Izuku!" Hiro pressed a hand to his neck and grinded his teeth before sharply poking his brother in the forehead. "You're supposed to be so smart and yet you can't seem to understand how fucking stupid you were?! Accidents happen and the more you throw yourself into danger, the more likely you are to end up as a splatter on the pavement!"

He didn't understand.

He couldn't understand.

"I have to watch them, Hiro! I have to learn!" Izuku pulled his notebook out from under his arm and flipped it open, whipping it around and pushing it into his brother's face. "Look at all the notes I was able to take during that fight! I was able to see Hawks' movements in real-time. He was able to maintain a height of 35 feet with only 154 feathers attached to his wings. The most he's ever been able to expend before was 312 before losing altitude but this time he lost even more and still maintained that height! It was amaz-"

He let out a startled gasp as Hiro literally smacked the notebook out of his hands, face red with anger. "I don't care about your goddamn notes, Izuku! I care about you killing yourself chasing this stupid dream!"

Izuku stared at the scattered papers floating to the ground before stooping to pick them up. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, felt how shaky his heart was beating. The sludge slid up his throat and made him want to spit his rage.

"It's not stupid."

His voice was quiet. He didn't look at his brother as he spoke, focusing instead on sliding the pages back into his notebook.

"I'm going to be a hero. And I need all the advantages I can get. I need to learn from them if I'm ever going to have a chance."

Words he hadn't already said a million times before. Today, they felt shaky. Unsteady.

He stood back up and turned towards his brother, only to notice a new grimace in his features. A nauseated frown that made his brows dip and his feet shift against the floor. He looked uncomfortable. Like he needed to say something. His eyes flickered.

"Izuku-"

"My grades are perfect. I'm top of my class. I-I'm top of every class! In four years, I'll be able to apply for UA's hero course." Izuku brushed past it. Couldn't focus on that. Had to keep looking forward. He flipped through his notebook and turned to the "Future Hero Plans" section he'd been adding to since he was six.

"Mr. Nagita says I'm the best member of our gymnastics team - that I'm one of the best he's ever seen, maybe even Olympic material if I keep training. If I keep that up and maybe start adding some combat classes, I can be ready for when the entrance exam is-"

"We're moving."

He stopped flipping. The pages fluttered to a stop and Izuku's fingers tightened around the bindings. Hiro wasn't looking at him.

"What?"

His brother's voice was curt. Clipped. "Out of the city. We're leaving."

"W-we...we can't," Izuku sputtered, shaking his head with a surprised scoff. "UA is here. E-every top-ranked hero works out of central Japan! This is the best place for me to-"

"To get killed."

Hiro turned towards him and folded his arms. His eyes had taken on a cold tint. "The number of villain incidents is insane in this part of the city, not to mention how much those kids at school are always giving you trouble. It'll be good to finally get you away from them."

He was bringing that up now?! As if Izuku hadn't already been dealing with them for six years already?

"I can handle them! Only a few more years and I'll be in high school!"

"The neighborhood's not safe anymore, Izuku."

"Bullshit! You're just making up excuses now! There's nothing wrong with-"

"Mrs. Chiba's dead."

He stopped short, the words dying on his tongue like a punch to the gut. He blinked, taking a second to wonder if he'd heard the man right. Hiro grabbed one of the kitchen chairs and plopped down with a certain mass of fatigue to his movements, a bone-deep exhaustion.

Izuku's mouth moved. No words came out.

"They caught her outside the grocery store." Hiro sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I heard about it last week."

Izuku blinked away the sudden intrusive images of Mrs. Chiba leaning against her apartment door, cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth and rotten teeth grinning as she wheezed a laugh. She always laughed at Izuku's jokes.

He blinked the tears away too.

"Who?"

Hiro leveled him with a stare. A sharp, knowing stare that made the sludge in his stomach shriek. "You know who."

And he did.

Their symbols - a DNA spiral - were all over the streets nowadays.

"We can't stay here anymore. It's not safe. For...f-for you."

Izuku let out a shaky breath and pressed his notebook tightly against his chest. He rocked on the balls of his feet for a moment. "O-okay then. We...w-we can find a new apartment, can't we? Out of the neighborhood but...but still in the city, right? As long as we're close to UA-"

Hiro massaged his temple. "Forget about UA, Izuku."

"I can't. It's the top hero school in-"

"FORGET ABOUT THE STUPID HEROES!" Hiro screamed, suddenly on his feet and in his face. Izuku stuttered on a breath and tripped over his feet in an attempt to back away. Hiro grabbed onto his shoulders and held him in place and for one single, horrifying moment, Izuku froze up and waited for the blow.

But Hiro never raised a fist. His grasp never turned painful. Instead, his gaze turned pleading. Terrified. And he was suddenly gripping Izuku, not out of rage, but like a lifeline. Like the boy would disappear if he let go.

"Stop...stop chasing it." His voice was a whisper. A beg. "Please, I...I can't anymore."

Hiro didn't elaborate on what 'it' was. He didn't need to. The vague sentence was enough to make Izuku's breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen as he stared at his brother with nothing short of horrified betrayal stretching across his features. Hiro's eyes were starting to water.

So were Izuku's.

"You...you said I could be a hero. You...y-you said you believed in me. That-"

"I lied."

His heart stopped. "No."

"I fucking lied, Izuku!" Hiro stepped away with a violent swing at empty air, eyes flickering like a dying car battery. "You've...goddamn it! You've seen those hero fights! The t-the villains they go up against? You...you can't beat them! They would destroy you. No...no inventions or gadgets or stupid mind games are going to work when they can crush you with one blow!"

Hiro's cheeks were wet now. And his voice cracked as he spoke. Like the words were physically painful to say. "I...I know you want this but that is not enough. YOU are not enough!"

Izuku stumbled back, staring with panic in his eyes as he tried to breathe. This wasn't...this wasn't happening. He shook, trying to...trying to, he didn't even know what. He didn't know what to...what to-

Hiro was suddenly in front of him. He was sobbing now. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, honey. I wanted to support you. Wanted to...uplift you and your dreams but...right now my priority is protecting you." His hands were on Izuku's shoulders again, but the boy couldn't even feel them. Couldn't feel anything other than that hot sticky bile creeping through his bones and burning his body stiff. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. There was too much static. Too much noise and pressure and pain and Hiro was still touching him and-

"I wanted to believe you. I wanted to believe in you. But those gangs...those X-Terminators, I...I see it now. I see how vulnerable you are. The thought of you going up against those monsters makes me stop breathing. So imagining you against actual villains just...I...I can't do it, Izuku." Hiro's voice shivered as the tears streamed down his cheeks. "I can't let you keep chasing something that's never going to happen. Especially when all it's going to do is kill you. And I can't...I...I can't lose you, Izuku."

The boy stood and stared at his brother, watching that yellow glow flickering with emotion as his brother begged him to understand. But he could barely hear any of it anymore.

Because This. Wasn't. Happening.

This was everybody. This was his classmates and his teachers and Kacchan pointing and laughing. This was every day, sitting in a classroom full of judging eyes and sneering lips and cruel jabs. This was every new report pumping up the flashy quirks and powerful heroes and leaving room for nothing else. This was his mother and her friends sitting in the living room shaking their heads with a silent judgement.

This was the world. This was their cruelty.

This wasn't Hiro.

Hiro, who had always supported him. Who'd bought him his first real computer so he could start learning about code. Who shouted at the random tourists who'd wanted a picture with Izuku because they had never seen green eyes before. Who'd always ask Izuku what he wanted his hero name to be - adding to the list of potential names they always had on the refrigerator.

Who was staring at him now with tears in his eyes telling him his dreams were nothing.

Because he was quirkless.

("Just have to hope he doesn't turn out to be a villain.")

Because he was powerless.

("He will never have a place in this world.")

Because he was a roach, roach, roach, roach, roach-

("Useless Deku. When you become a bad guy, I'll be the hero that takes you down!")

"You're a liar..."

Hiro shut his eyes. "Izuku-"

"You said...y-you..."

"Buddy, please-"

Izuku yanked himself from the man's grasp and pushed him away, tears pouring down his face as he sobbed. "Don't touch me! Stay away from me!" He shuddered and snatched up his backpack from beside the door, flinging it open before he could think better of it. Before his legs lost their strength entirely. Before his heart crumbled into nothing.

"I hate you. I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

He didn't bother wiping at his tears before spinning on his heel and sprinting out the door, leaving Hiro to call after him with a wavering cry.

---

4,324 steps.

54 cars - 10 red, 21 white, 23 black.

Street signs - 42.

Lights.

People.

Lines.

Breaths.

Count. Count. Count.

Don't think. Just count.

Don't cry. Just count.

Don't die.

Count.

Count.

(Roach)

---

The hours passed.

Hiro called.

Izuku walked through the halls and stared unseeing at the people floating around him.

(He doesn't believe.)

Kacchan noticed the red rims around his eyes and jeered at him in class. The other kids laughed. Izuku barely even heard.

Hiro called.

The teacher smacked him upside the head for zoning off in class and yelled at him when Izuku wouldn't give her an answer for why he wasn't paying attention. The effort it took to keep from collapsing to the floor made him puke all over his desk. She sent him to the nurse.

(He lied to me.)

The kids stared at him strangely, not with the usual scorn and derision, but with a hesitant trepidation. The kind of gaze you give a rabid dog limping on a street corner, waiting for it to lunge, to bark, to thrash and attack.

Izuku did not attack. Couldn't do much of anything other than drown in the sticky oil pooling in his mouth, his lungs, his stomach.

Hiro called.

When Kacchan burned his shoulder at lunch for ignoring him, Izuku didn't even react. Didn't scream or cry or beg.

Just blinked. And shook.

(I'm not enough.)

And finally, at the end of the day when the final bell rang out and the kids started pouring out the doors, Kacchan and his friends grabbed Izuku and dragged him to the janitor's closet. Kacchan was ranting something about not being ignored, something about Izuku thinking he was better than him. The boy didn't even register it. Didn't even stop his feet from sliding against the linoleum. Didn't scream and protest as they threw him into the closet and wedged the door shut behind him.

He stared down at his hands, at the cold floor pressing into his palms and waited for the tears to come.

Instead, there was a thought. Just one.

Heavy and immovable.

You're a roach.

---

Hiro called.

And called.

And called.

And then he stopped.

The phone stayed dark.

A notification popped up. New voicemails: 1

No more calls came in.

---

By the time the night janitor arrived for his shift and finally let him out, the sky was turning purple.

Izuku gave him a muted 'thank you' and ignored the blubbers of surprise and confusion before walking down the steps of the school and slowly embarked towards home.

The thought of seeing his brother again, of having to go back to that apartment and sit in the unbearable tension that had only been growing the past weeks made him want to throw up again. Because the anger was still there, simmering in his chest. But it was mostly overshadowed by the deep-seated agony ringing in his bones, the breathtaking anguish that made his vision watery and his steps unstable.

What was he going to say? What was he going to do?

How would they move past this?

The boy sniffed and hastily wiped at his nose and absentmindedly pulled his phone from his back pocket. Hiro still hadn't called since at least two hours previous. His singular voicemail still sat in his inbox.

Izuku winced inwardly. He should have been home hours ago so Hiro was probably freaking out. Which made his lack of calls somewhat confusing. Even if Izuku wasn't answering, his brother would still be blowing up his phone until his hands went raw, dialing and redialing until the phone melted.

Izuku's face twitched and he felt a reflexive thought bubble into his mind. Good. Let him panic. I don't care. I should go to the store, make him sweat for a few more hours.

He swallowed and felt a sudden itch crawl over his skin, like a layer of slime. Despite how angry he was, how hurt and emotional, he knew he wouldn't. Along with the fact that there was really nowhere else for him to go, the idea of purposely making his brother panic made him feel gross inside - even more so than he already did. He thought of Mrs. Chiba and the feeling intensified.

(You might be a roach, but that doesn't mean you have to act like one.)

Izuku scrolled through his phone and hovered over his brother's number. It would probably be best to call the man before he went to the police or something, reassure him that Izuku was on his way and to stop panicking.

His eyes lingered on the big red 1 over the contact.

He paused in his steps, coming to a halt on the sidewalk. He lifted his head and cast a quick glance at his surroundings before digging into his pockets and pulling out his headphones. Tiredly shoving them into his ears, he kept up his pace and pressed play.

---

"You have...ONE new voice message."

"New Message:"

-BEEP-

---

"Hey buddy. I, um...I-I...know you probably don't want to talk to me and...I understand. What I said to you this morning was...unforgivable. And I...I just...I want you to understand."

"I...wasn't lying back then. When you were little and you'd ask me if you could be a hero...I...I wasn't lying. I really DID think you could be. Maybe not number one and maybe not for every quirkless kid out there, but for you...I did think it was possible. Because I knew you and I knew what you were capable of."

---

Izuku's steps slowed as he stepped off the stairs and onto their floor. The elevator had been busted for weeks and the landlord had stopped taking their calls but now...the stairs were covered in dust. Not from age and disuse, but from the walls. Plaster and drywall and little bits of concrete sat scattered on the floor.

He blinked, lifted his head. The trail extended down the hall. Lead to their door.

Which was hanging uselessly by its busted hinges, creaking with each faint swing.

On the wood sat a single, spray-painted symbol.

A DNA spiral.

Izuku's heart fell straight through the floor.

---

"And you know...t-these past few months...I know things have been difficult. Things are...changing all around us and I didn't know how to handle it. I was...scared. Because pretty soon you're going to go out into the world. And I know they won't see you like I see you. They won't...want you. They won't welcome you. They won't...understand."

"So...I made a mistake. And I gave in to that fear. Because I wanted to keep you safe. And in doing so, I...I hurt you, which was the last thing I ever wanted to do."

"You asked me...if I thought you could be a hero. Even without a quirk. And I said no."

"But I was wrong, Izuku. And just because I was afraid...just because I was weak doesn't mean YOU are."

"I know you might not believe me after everything I said before, but..."

"You CAN be a hero."

---

He stepped through the doorway, shards of glass crunching under his feet, breath wavering in his chest.

The couch sat by the far wall, upturned and snapped in half, laying by the wreckage of the TV which was little more than sparks, wires, and curled metal. The kitchen cabinets had all been ripped from their hinges and shattered, bits of wooden splinters and boards discarded on the floor, which was covered in water, juice, condiments and whatever else had been spilled from the caved-in refrigerator.

The cold autumn air blew through the apartment from the broken windows, leaving the bits of debris to gently blow with the wind.

And the walls, stripped of the pictures of Izuku and Hiro and Maya, held new decor: spray-paint and carvings and dark black letters slicing through the creamy white of the paint.

Roach.

Bug-Lover.

Evolve.

Devil Eyes.

Izuku stood and stared and tried to form words. Tried to make a sound. Tried to call out.

And then he saw the blood.

And the words died on his tongue.

---

"It's going to be hard, you know."

"You're going to have to work five times as hard as everybody else and they will constantly remind you of it. The world is cruel, bud. It's harsh and cold and vicious to people who don't fit in and to THEM...you don't fit."

"And all this time, I've been trying to make a place for you here in our home with our family and that's...that's not enough. You deserve more. You deserve a place in the WORLD. You need to find a place for yourself. And if they don't want to give you one, then you make one for yourself. And you find people who will help you make one. You find people who will help you change things. Because that's how we do anything in life, Izuku. With people. And kindness. and love."

"You taught me that."

"Because when everything in our family went to shit...we found a way to...t-to make it better. Because even after everything that you've been through, after everything you've heard and felt and seen, you're still so...God, you're still so kind. To everyone. You see people's differences and you turn them into strengths. You make people smile. You do everything you can to help. No matter how much shit they throw at you, your heart is still so strong."

"It's...you know, it's funny. Maya once asked me what I loved most about you. And I know it sounds corny, but at first I said I couldn't pick. But then I...I told her a story."

---

Izuku felt his movements slow. Felt his eyes trailing along the blood, following it with his gaze through the living room and down towards the bedrooms. And for a second, all he could do was stare. Stare and breathe and taste the acid fear bubbling in the back of his throat.

His feet moved.

Glass crinkled.

A broken picture of him and his brother sat by his feet. They were smiling. Throwing up bunny fingers.

"H-Hiro...?"

---

"You must have been six? Seven maybe? I was warming up dinner and you saw this...cockroach on the floor. Just sitting in the corner minding its own business. I - of course, grabbed a shoe from the hallway and went to squish it and you...you stopped me. Quiet as a mouse, you didn't say a word. You just got up, grabbed a magazine and a glass and scooped that thing up, walked to the window, and dropped it onto the bushes. You didn't say anything to me afterwards, either. Just went back to your seat and kept writing in your notebook. Like it was the most normal thing in the world, what you'd done. And not completely alien to me."

"And Maya...when I told her, she didn't really understand. I don't blame her. I didn't either when I first saw it. Didn't understand the feeling it left in my chest. But...I understand now."

"You didn't see a bug that day. Didn't see a disgusting creature to squish and kick away. You saw a life. Small and voiceless and insignificant to me, but a life nonetheless. And you went out of your way to save it. Not for anything. Not for praise or reward or record-topping polls. Just...because."

---

Izuku curled his fingers around the doorframe of his brother's room. The blood trail turned and disappeared into the bedroom but he couldn't bring himself to enter.

Instead, he stood, stiff as a corpse and eyes clenched shut as he shuddered on a breath and tried to swallow the sudden urge to vomit. A gust of wind blew through, curling around his neck and shivering his bones.

He held his breath. Clenched his fingers. And turned his head.

---

"And that's why I know you'll be a great hero, Izuku."

---

Hiro sat on the floor, back resting against the bed. Blood trickled from his head and pooled around him on the floor, splattering the walls, staining the sheets, covering his face.

His eyes were not glowing.

They just stared.

Dull.

Lifeless.

---

"You value the things you fight for. And a hero should always fight for life. Because then all life is valuable, big or small. And you don't need a quirk to do that. You've been doing it your whole life."

---

He didn't remember crossing the room. Didn't remember kneeling.

But suddenly he was on the floor.

Covered in blood.

Screaming until bile spewed from his lips.

---

"Izuku...I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry for the things I said. Please...please come home. Come home and we'll work through this together, like we always do. And I promise we'll work towards your dream together."

"And...and if you're only going to take one thing away from this, then...let it be this."

"The world is going to challenge you. It's going to hurt you over and over again. And when it does...when you feel like you're about to break and that you...t-that you can't go on anymore...I need you to do something for me."

"I need you to do what you taught ME to."

---

Izuku shut his eyes, body shaking so much he could barely move until it finally collapsed under him.

He curled up against his brother's side.

Grabbed his hand.

Laced his shaking fingers with cold, stiff ones.

Laid there until the shadows lengthened into nothing and the blood turned the air acrid and sour.

There were no stars that night.

No words.

There was nothing. But the sound of gentle wind. The faint creaking of a broken door.

And a sad little roach's worthless tears.

---

"Be kind. Do good. And choose life."

"...I love you, Izuku."

"I always will."