1. Lose a friend, find another.
Midoriya Izuku is only four years old when his entire view of the world gets thrown upside down.
Or, maybe he should say, gets casted in pitch black.
—
Two months prior Kacchan got his quirk.
Izuku turned when he heard the voice of his best friend, high pitched laughs of pure joy reaching high
in the sky.
Cheeks red with excitement and sandy blond hair bobbing up and down in time with his jumps, Kacchan is
keeping his hands held out, palms up, as golden sparks comes out of them, popping. They reminds Izuku
of the little sparkly candles his mom prefers to lit during new years eve in place of actual fireworks.
Izuku laughs with him, jumps with him, just as excited as Kacchan is about the quirk manifesting.
"Kacchan! This is amazing! This is the best quirk ever!" Izuku yells, running circles around him.
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"I'm going to be a hero!" Kacchan replies, cheeks-breaking smile on his face, turning to keep looking
at a over-excited Izuku.
"YOU'RE GONNA BE A HERO!" Izuku yells, jumping with his arm stretched up to the sky.
—
The change is so fast that Izuku feels like he just came down of a roller coaster, but all the time.
Kacchan changed. In the spawn of a couple of weeks, his best friend, the child he grew up with, that he
loved so much, turned into a completely different person.
The adults praise this, chatting between themselves about how a quirk manifestation is always a time of
great changes, and Izuku doesn't like that. This new Kacchan is brash, and speaks too loudly, and picks
on Izuku a bit too much.
But still, he keeps following, because Kacchan is his best friend, and Izuku loves him.
—
"Are you ok?" Izuku asks, holding out his hand.
Kacchan looks up at him, a smile frozen in place for long seconds, before his expression changes into
rage and he splashes Izuku.
"I don't need your help." Kacchan growls, walking out the little streams, as Izuku looks at his back,
confused and hurt, droplets of water falling from his constantly unkept mop of curly hair.
—
Midoriya Izuku is only four years old when he wakes up, and his room is all dark.
He's sure it's not nighttime still, because he heard mom's alarm going off in the distance, and he
heard her going to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and he can still hear her downstairs, preparing
breakfast as she does every day.
Izuku slowly sits on his bed, his head spinning. He palms at the sheets, then up his face.
His eyes are open, right?
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His question gets an answer when he accidentally pokes himself in the eye. Hissing, he squeezes his
eyes, before slowly opening them.
Still pitch black.
Izuku blinks. He feels himself blinking.
Mom knocks gently on the door, before entering.
"Izuku- Oh you're awake." She says. Izuku can hear the smile in her voice. "Breakfast is almost ready,
sweetheart- Izuku?"
Izuku feels his mom closing the short gap between his bed and the door, feels her weight on the bed,
her gentle, thin fingers on his little wrist.
"Honey, is everything ok?" She asks, and Izuku can imagine perfectly right the little wrinkle between
her eyes.
"Mom-" Izuku whispers, his voice hitching in his throat. "I— I can't see—"
—
For a while, Izuku doesn't go to school.
He spends most of his days in the car, as a silent mom drives him around, between a doctor appointment,
an exam, another doctor appointment.
No one can make sense of his sudden loss of sight. How can a healthy four year old boy go to sleep with
his eyes perfectly working, and wake up blind?
He silently listens to mom talk with doctors, nurses, specialists. He gets asked if he can see the
light pointed right into his eyes, if he can see the board with the symbols.
Izuku remembers the board from past check-up appointments, but he still can't see it.
He hears mom trying to stifle a sob when the doctor shines the light right into his face -he can feel
the faint warmth of it on his skin- but his eyes cannot perceive anything.
Doctors with special healing quirks comes to visit Izuku at their house, but still, his world is pitch
black.
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Mom gently cards her hand through his hair after every appointment.
"It's gonna be alright, sweetheart." She says. "We will find a way."
She sounds less and less convinced every time she says it.
—
He has to go back to school. He heard mom talking on the phone, about arrangements and teachers, and
Izuku sits on the stairs in silence as mom hangs up and little sobs come out of her mouth.
—
"Hello, Izuku." A gentle female voice says. A warm hand closes around his little one. "I'm Kyoko, I
will be your teacher from now on." She says.
Kyoko comes every morning, picks him up from their house.
"Say bye to mom!"
Izuku turns around, not sure if he pointing in the right direction, and waves his hand.
"Have a good day, honey." Mom says, her voice always sounds kind of watery.
Kyoko teaches him a lot. How to orientate himself and walk with a cane, how to read with fingers, how
to label things so he can know what he needs without having to ask anyone.
During the break he gets to go in the garden with other kids. His classmates. Kacchan.
Most of the other kids gives him a wide berth, whispering between themselves behind his back. But not
Kacchan.
"Deku, catch!"
The ball hits him straight in the face and he ends up on his ass, but he doesn't cry. This time.
"Ugh, you're so useless." Kacchan voice is closer now. There's a long stretch of silence. "Your eyes
are so weird."
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"What do you mean?" Izuku asks, his mostly unused voice cracking a bit in his throat.
"They are like— All washed out and pale." Kacchan says, and Izuku feels the air moving in front of his
face, and he knows that Kacchan is waving his hand right in front of him. "You really can't see, huh?"
Izuku doesn't answer, getting back up and brushing the dust away from his pants.
"C'mon, catch this time!" Kacchan says, running away and kicking the ball at him.
Izuku doesn't catch.
—
"Mom."
Inko turns around, startled. Izuku is sitting at the kitchen table, his little legs kicking at nothing,
his fingers still on the braille book he was slowly reading. Izuku doesn't talk that much anymore.
"Are my eyes weird?"
Inko feels something caught in her throat. The need to kneel and bawl. Instead she forces a smile her
son can't see anymore on her face.
"they are beautiful as always, dear."
—
Two weeks later, Izuku refuses to go get his usual haircut.
"But honey-" Inko tries to reason. "You hair is all in front of your face-"
"It's ok." Izuku whispers. "They cover my eyes, right?"
She didn't think it was possible, but her heart broke all over again.
—
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"I wonder what kind of quirk I will get." Izuku says, following the sounds of Kacchan kicking his
soccer ball as he walks, swinging the cane as Kyoko taught him. "I hope its a strong one, like yours."
He's always following Kacchan.
"Ah-" Kacchan laughs. "Nothing will ever be as strong as my quirk. And even if you get a good one,
you'd still be useless with those eyes of yours."
Izuku is alway following Kacchan, even if Kacchan is brash and loud and picks on Izuku a little too
much.
At least Kacchan is not treating him like he's a broken glass kept together by tape.
—
Midoriya Izuku is only four years old, bordering on five, when he and mom come out of the last doctor
appointment.
Izuku sits in the car, silently. He listens to gentle sounds of the engine, picking at the velvety
cover of the seat with nervous fingers.
Izuku has dreamt so much. About his quirk, about how he'd learn to use it, about how he'd become strong
and be a hero, even if his world is all black.
All until the doctor said that word.
Quirkless.
—
Kacchan hasn't stopped laughing for a while.
"I can't believe this-" He said once he finally calmed down. "You're like, the most useless being on
this planet. You can't see, and you don't even have a quirk!"
Izuku keeps following. Fateful, hopeful, that his friend it's still there, somewhere.
—
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It's summer break, and Izuku has been searching for a while. Kacchan wasn't at the usual place.
He keeps searching, until he realizes he doesn't know where he is anymore.
Fear seizes his throat as a sheen of tears covers his unseeing eyes. Izuku searches, smacks right into
a tree -the bark under his hand is cool and slightly humid- and sits under it, collecting his knees
against his chest, as sobs shakes him.
He's lost, he's lost, he will never find the way home, mom will be sad, he's lost-_
"Deku?"
Izuku raises his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. "K-kacchan?"
A long-suffering sigh "Why are you crying, now?"
"I-" Hiccup. "I got lost-"
Kacchan sighs again. His rough hand closes around Izuku's wrist, jerking him up on his feet. Izuku
stumbles, but Kacchan doesn't stop, dragging him away.
"Honestly, you can't do anything alone." Kacchan grumbles. "Like, why do you even exist."
Izuku doesn't answer, head down.
They walk in silence for a while, until Kacchan jerks him around again. Izuku hits his shoulder on
something that feels like cement.
"Here, you're home now." Kacchan says, sounding annoyed. "Stop getting lost. Stop following me. You're
constantly giving me work. You're such a dead weight. How am I supposed to become a hero if you're
constantly holding me down?"
Izuku doesn't answer, leaning on the familiar walls surrounding his house. He feels his throat clog up,
cold sweat beading on his forehead under the messy hair covering his eyes.
"Find someone _like you_ to pester, I'm done with you." Kacchan says, and his voice doesn't sound cold
or cruel. Just... Uninterested.
Like Izuku is nothing. A pebble on the side of the road.
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Izuku nods, and makes his way back into his house. Mom welcomes him like she always does, like nothing
his wrong.
Izuku stops following Kacchan.
—
"Izuku— What are you doing?"
Mom's voice sounds weird, from the door. Izuku stops, his little fingers tight around the plastic
figurine.
He can feel the curves of it under his fingers, the vaguely pointed tuft of plastic hair.
He hasn't done much in his room since his loss of sight, besides labelling. He remembered all his
posters, all the All Might toys sitting on the shelves, and even if he couldn't see them anymore, it
gave him comfort to know they were there. Like he could hear All Might's voice, booming and happy,
telling him to be strong and that he could do it.
He could answer mom, he could try to articulate how that sense of comfort has slowly changed, how he
can't hear All Might's voice anymore. How he only hears the whisperings of pity about the poor, blind,
quirkless boy. His peers whining they don't want him in their team because it means they will lose,
Kacchan—
Kacchan.
He shrugs instead, and keeps putting all the toys and posters into a cardboard box.
Mom keeps watching him, silent, until his room is barren and his shelves empty, and the box goes into
the back of the closet, collecting dust.
—
Middle school is completely different, and yet all the same.
He doesn't have a special teacher anymore. Kyoko-san has taught him everything she possibly could. Mom
bought him a phone, and together they went over all the disabilities options necessary.
Izuku likes his phone. He likes to keep an earbud in during his commute to school, listening to the
voice-over reading articles about the latest hero news.
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He was still interested in heroes, so what. Bite him.
School is not much. He's expected to keep up with his peers, doesn't get any special treatment. It's
hard, but honestly Izuku prefers it to being treated with kid gloves. And he likes to study, so it's
not that big of a deal.
His mom beams when he brings home his grades. He can hear it in her voice.
"My handsome, young man." She says, ruffling his hair. "So brilliant."
"Mooooommm-" He whines.
He keeps studying. He keeps writing his notes about heroes and quirks.
Even if he doesn't write -for the future- in the title anymore.
—
He doesn't have friends, but Izuku is fine with it.
By some cruel joke of destiny, he ended up being in the same class as Kacchan. But Kacchan mostly
ignores him. Izuku has tried to speak to him every now and then, but Kacchan only grunts back.
Izuku can't see body language, but he doesn't need it to get the hint. He soon stops trying to talk to
him.
At first other teens asks Kacchan about him. Aren't you childhood friends with the blind boy? What he's
really like? Why is he so _weird_?
Kacchan reacts with a scoff and silence at best, with explosive -literally- rage at worst. The
questions soon stops.
Izuku doesn't have any friends. He tells himself he's fine with it.
His peers ignores him, for the most part. Some of them are cruel, and play tricks on him. They hide his
phone and tell him to get it, it's right there, _in front of his eyes_ , while laughing. They bump into
him, and then sneer "Sorry, didn't _see_ you there.".
At first someone tries to weakly protest, but no ones wants to be next, so that soon stops as well.
Kacchan doesn't say anything. Izuku is sure he heard him chuckle at some of the so called jokes.
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Izuku doesn't have any friends. He doesn't need them. He doesn't need bullies that pick on the _blind,
quirkless boy_ , nor cowards that refuse to stand up for the _blind, quirkless boy_.
He doesn't need anyone, really.
—
He doesn't tell mom any of this, but he knows that she knows.
She always knows.
—
"How do you _see_?"
Izuku stops, rice from his bento mid-way to his mouth.
He's on the roof, alone, as usual. Until he hears steps and then a female voice asks that question.
"You have, like, your hair all in front of your eyes." She elaborates at his silence. "And you have a
lot_ of hair." She adds for emphasis.
"I don't see." Izuku deadpans.
The girls comes closer, and Izuku feels fingers shift his hair away from his face. A gentle gasp
follows.
Izuku doesn't know how his eyes look like. They were a brilliant emerald, once, but now according to
Kacchan they looked more like a pale, sickly green. Like fake alien vomit.
His mom said that his eyes looked like the sea water on the shore, clear and sparkly, when the first
light of morning comes up in the sky.
It's wondrous how two people can describe so differently the same thing, isn't it?
There's silence, and Izuku expect the usual round of _I'm so sorry I didn't know I didn't want to
offend_.
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"You are cute, though." The female voice says instead. "You shouldn't hide your face like this."
Izuku blinks.
—
Her name is Miki Kobayakawa.
"Call me Miki." She immediately said after they exchanged proper pleasantries. "If you don't, I'll
punch you."
That gets a startled laugh out of Izuku.
Miki is brash and loud and full of energy. She reminds Izuku of Kacchan, sometimes. But her brashness
is more focused.
Kacchan is like a rabid dog, biting and snarling at anything that comes in his field of vision
Miki is more of a wolf, in Izuku's mind. She's aggressive, but only if someone puts foot in her
territory.
Apparently, Izuku is considered part of the territory, now.
"Get the fuck out of here!" Miki yells as Izuku gets up from the floor, brushing his pants. Izuku hears
frantic steps and male voices hurling insults getting farther.
"Yeah, some big men you are!" Miki yells one last time, before turning towards Izuku, muttering.
"Fucking assholes. They are all so good at picking on a single person in five. Are you ok, Izuku?"
Izuku was on his way home when he accidentally stumbled into someone. He apologized, but the little
group wasn't happy with just that, apparently.
"I'm fine." He answers. "Where did you came from?" He asks.
"Oh, I wanted to go to the bookshop down the street and I saw you getting dragged away." She answers,
matter of factly, and sniffs. "You need to learn how to throw a punch, Izuku."
Izuku shrugs, palming in his backpack to make sure nothing fell out during the scuffle. "Even if I knew
how to do that, I won't know where to aim."
"Still, even swinging blindly - _no pun intended, dude_ \- can be effective if your opponent doesn't
expect it." She replies without missing a beat. "If your enemy thinks you are completely defenseless,
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they will be full of openings. You could take advantage of that."
Izuku puts his backpack back on his shoulders, silent.
"Say what." Miki adds. "You know my mom teaches self-defense at her gym. Why don't you apply? I'll make
puppy eyes at her so she'll let you in for free."
—
The first time Miki visited, mom literally squealed with delight at her son bringing home a friend,
doting on both of them to an almost embarrassing degree, and Izuku thought that Miki would never come
by again.
"Your mom is cool." Miki said, instead.
She visited very often after that. Her and mom went together as perfectly as a house on fire. Izuku's
life started to be more than just home-school-home.
They went to the zoo, and Miki had taken delight in describing the animals to him.
"Miki, I _remember_ what an elephant looks like." Izuku protested. "They are _not_ purple!"
Miki started laughing, and Izuku followed. They spent the rest of the day describing the animals as
outrageously inaccurately as possible. Mom laughed to tears when they couldn't stop with the flying
monkeys spitting fire and growing rainbow-colored scales.
They went to the movies, and Miki would narrate to him what was happening. She was atrocious, at first,
but increasingly became better both in descriptiveness and how quickly she'd manage to narrate.
People would try to shush them or call them out, sometimes. Izuku would fake sob, as Miki replied very
loudly "My friend is blind, you asshole!" and then whisper-describe to him the look of horror and
embarrassment of the unfortunate movie-goer that happened to be in the same place as them, making Izuku
giggle-snort soda out of his nose.
The first time he visited Miki's home, he found it startlingly similar to his own family situation.
A father out of the picture, a hard-working mother. The difference was that as much as Izuku has taken
after his mom's timid and meek nature, Miki has taken after her mom, loud and brash and honest, that
was never scared of laughing out loud.
Kobayakawa Ichiko welcomed him like an old friend of her daughter from the very start, sharing with him
embarrassing stories from Miki's childhood, never shying away from him or treating him like a delicate
flower. She was very fond of Izuku's deadpan sense of humor, laughing from her belly and punching him
on the shoulder.
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"I wanted to be a hero, when I was your age." Ichiko said once, when she noticed him listening intently
to the news, seeing right through him. "In the end, growing up, I realized I preferred teaching, so
here I am."
Izuku nodded his understanding, silently.
"Do you want to be a hero, young man?" She asked.
Izuku didn't say anything for a long while. He couldn't hear the scratch of Miki's pen on her math
homework anymore, and he knew they were both staring at him.
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, nothing coming out of him.
"It has always been my dream ever since I was a kid." He admitted in a low voice, in the end, incapable
of giving a resounding yes.
Neither Miki nor Ichiko laughed, or said it was impossible, or offered him alternative career paths.
"Well, you've got to work hard for it, then." Ichiko said in the end.
"And learn how to throw a punch." Miki added, gently kicking him under the table.
—
Izuku expects his mom to say no. It's too dangerous. You could get hurt. You don't need to know how to
fight.
"Yes." Mom says, her voice strong and unwavering. "I will be happy to come by this weekend and speak
with your mother about it, Miki-chan. Thank you so much for offering."
Mom knows. Mom always knows.
—
Izuku and Miki sat in the living room of Miki's home, pretending not to hear their mothers going back
and forth just a room away.
"I insist-" Inko said. "Ichiko-san, I assisted to your lessons, you are an amazing teacher, there's no
way I'll let you teach Izuku without paying-"
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"Nonsense." Ichiko replied. "Izuku is like a son to me, now. I could never accept money, I'll be happy
to teach him anything he needs for as long as he needs to be taught."
Inko started to reply, _again_ , and Miki asked in an unamused voice "Do you think they will keep this
up all day?"
Izuku groaned, dragging his hands on his face.
—
At the end of the first week under Ichiko's regime of workout, Izuku was absolutely destroyed.
Everything ached, even places he didn't know could possibly ache. He let the hot water wash over him,
relax his sore muscles.
"Izukuuuu-!" Mom called, her voice far away and muffled by the sound of the shower. "Dinner's almost
ready!"
Izuku closed the water with a soft sigh, palmed the little side table to find the clean towel
he prepared, and dried himself before putting on his pajamas.
At every step he took to get downstairs he couldn't help but let out a little moan of pain.
Mom chuckled.
"Very funny." He replied once he was finally in the kitchen, sinking down in the seat and flashing his
tongue at mom.
"I can already see some results, you know?" Mom said, putting his bowl in front of him. Izuku scoffed.
"Yeah, right."
"No, really!" She insisted, a smile in her voice. "Maybe I'll join you. I need to lose some weight..."
"Mom, you'll _die_."
Inko laughed, ruffling his hair. "How dramatic."
Everything hurt. Izuku was sure even his hair hurt.
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He grinned. He never been so happy in his entire life.
—
The days passed fast, the months going by. The end of his first year of middle school got closer and
closer, and Izuku has set into a routine.
He would wake up early, go for a jog around the block, a familiar path were he knew exactly each step
he could take without his cane, then shower and school. The afternoon was dedicated to homework and
then, depending on the day, either cardio or training with Ichiko.
Three times a week he would train, with the saturday free for him and Miki to just relax and enjoy
being teenagers, and sundays completely dedicated to training.
Sunday was his favorite day, by far. He loved the training. Ichiko was not only helping him becoming
stronger physically, but also taught him with infinite patience every fighting technique she thought he
could need and then some.
Sometimes Miki would join them, sometimes she just watched and cheered him from the sideline.
Izuku poured everything he had into it, and the long sundays, where it was just the four of them in
Ichiko's gym, were the best part of his week, no matter what.
Mom has, in fact, joined him, although just with some light cardio. Ichiko-san had been delighted to
help the both of them, to study a proper diet with them, and she would constantly compliment mom on her
hard work, even possibly more than she complimented Izuku.
Not that he minded, mom deserved all the compliments in the world.
The end of his first year of middle school was ending, and Izuku felt so very different from the person
he was just a few months prior.
—
Miki was holding the boxing sack for him as he went through the routine. She started to do this a while
ago, as Izuku's punches started being strong enough that the sack would swing too wildly for him to go
through the exercises alone.
Miki called the change of pace for him. Right hook, left hook, uppercut, faster, slower... Sweats rolled
down his face generously, shirt sticking on his back, his breath fast but controlled as Ichiko-san
taught him.
"Aaaaand... Stop!" Miki called, and Izuku slumped a bit, hands on his knees, catching his breath.
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"You went through the entire routine without having to stop once." Miki said, satisfaction in her
voice. He heard her scribbling down the results on his exercise board. "Good job, Izuku."
Izuku grinned, standing back up straight and stretching. He could hear Ichiko-san and mom talking from
the corner with the tapis-roulant.
"Miki."
"Mh?"
"Why don't we spar?"
Miki did not say anything.
"C'mon-" He insisted, jumping a bit, light on his feet. "I know you are much better than me at this,
but if I don't start to stretch my wings a bit with a real fight how am I supposed to learn?"
"I don't know, Izuku." Miki replied, her voice strangely measured."I think it's better discuss this
with mom, first-"
"Oh c'mon, you party pooper." Izuku pressed, laughing. "It doesn't have to be, like, super serious.
Besides, my mom and yours seems rather busy over there for now."
"I- No." Miki said, curtly.
Izuku stopped his light jumps. Silence stretched over them.
"Is it because I'm blind?"
The resentment bubbled up his throat, the words leaving his mouth, even surprising him.
Miki sighed. "You know I don't care about that."
"Then why not?"
"I just don't want to, ok?"
He could feel that Miki turned her back on him. Something grabbed at Izuku's stomach.
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Izuku, the blind quirkless boy, always so meek and timid and useless. Always in the shadow, nothing of
importance, really. No one to spare a single look at.
He could accept this from strangers. He _did_ accept this from Kacchan.
But Miki was his best friend. His _only_ friend. He could not accept this. Not from her.
He knew Miki was good at fighting. He knew he wouldn't hit her. There was nothing to worry about.
If she didn't want to fight, if she insisted in underestimating him, then he'll _force_ her to look at
him, to consider him.
Izuku charged. He had a good estimation in his mind of how far Miki had to be, now.
He felt the air moving as Miki turned back to face him with a startled gasp.
Her hand closed around Izuku's wrist.
His world became pain.
—
Everything was pain, every single nerve of his body was burning, hot and searing, he was breaking, he
was turning into ashes, someone was screaming raw in the distance.
Oh.
It was him.
—
When Izuku woke up, he felt like his entire body has been run over by a train about one thousand times.
A wet sob near him "Izuku?"
-Mom- he tried to say, but coughed instead, his throat burning and raw. His breath itched in his lungs,
as mom urged at his side, helping him sitting a bit straighter and putting a glass on his lips.
"It's ok, sweetheart, it's ok, breath- Here, drink this, slowly-" She whispered, frantic.
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Izuku was shivering so hard some of the water splashed down as mom helped him drink. He started to
sweat, his body protesting loudly at every each movement.
The seconds stretched long as he finished the glass of water and mom helped him back down on the
pillow. Izuku was speechless, his mind a scrambled mess, unable to make sense of anything.
"I'm going to call the doctor, ok?" Mom said, her voice trembling. "I'll be right back, honey, don't
worry."
He didn't dare move a single finger, the pain lingering like a vulture on his shoulders. Mom came back
after what felt like an eternity, and a male voice presented himself as doctor something-something.
He could barely understand, really.
The man visited him, or so he thought anyway. It was hard to perceive anything over the fog of constant
pain stabbing his brain at every minuscule movement.
"—The pain is going to persist for a couple of days at least— Bed rest—"
That was all Izuku could hear before he fell back into the sweet, salvific embrace of sleep.
—
When he woke up again, he knew he was home. There was something in his room, that atmosphere of - _this
is my place_ \- that always permeated it, that made it easy for him to know even if his entire world
was always dark.
Tentatively, he sat. The pain was still there, but it wasn't nearly as strong as it was the first time
he woke.
He wondered distantly for how long he slept.
Slowly he got out of bed, shuffled outside his room, down the corridor.
When he lingered in the doorway, he heard mom gasp softly and then ask sleepily "Izuku?"
"Mom." He said. His voice was gravel. He wondered how hard and for how long he screamed to make his
throat so swollen and hurt. "What happened?"
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—
Mom put down a cup of hot tea in front of him, and Izuku closed his shivering fingers around the
warmth, grateful.
He heard her sitting in front of him, he could feel her eyes digging into him.
"I don't even know where to begin." She finally said, her voice both soft and steely, somehow. "Izuku
I... I'm very disappointed."
Izuku flinched, his fingers tighter around the cup.
"You shouldn't have done what... What you did." She added in a whisper. "Did you know of Miki-chan's
quirk?"
He shook his head.
"I... Asked her, once." He said in a tiny voice after the silence stretched. "She t-told me she didn't
want to talk about it, s-so I never insisted."
"You've hurt her." Mom said, and Izuku couldn't hold the tears anymore at the sad tone in her voice.
"You've hurt her so much, Izuku."
—
" _I don't want to talk to you, right now. I'm too mad._ " The impersonal, robotic voice-over read the
text to him.
" _Ok_." He texted back.
—
Ichiko-san sighed deeply as he bowed to her after his apology.
"It's better if we stop for a while." She said, and the disappointment in her voice, so similar to
mom's, hurt more than any punch possibly could. "You are a smart young man, Izuku. Think about what
happened and why, about why you acted the way you did. When you have accepted your actions and feel
ready to start again, I'll be happy to take you in once more."
Izuku nodded. "Thank you." He added, his voice so, so small.
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—
He knew, why he did what he did. He let his negative feelings, all the rage and frustrations, all the
pent-up resentment. Every word and actions that he passively took through his life, from all the people
around him that saw him as nothing more that a dead-weight on society, and has turned them against the
only person in the whole world that had loved him unconditionally from the very first day the've met.
His shelves were still barren, but Izuku thought that if he opened the box sitting in the back of his
closet right now, he would hear All Might's voice reprimanding him for his action. He would be so
disappointed.
Some hero I'd make_ , Izuku thought bitterly, as traitorous tears spilled from his eyes yet again.
—
"Hey, Deku. Hey. HEY!"
Kacchan's hand closed on his shoulder like a clamp, turning him around.
He compared Miki to Kacchan, once. But he couldn't have been more wrong. They couldn't have been more
different.
"Don't ignore me, you prick." Kacchan growled. "What the hell are you going around with that long face
for? You look like death warmed over. Cheer up a bit, you're making everyone around you miserable."
Izuku gritted his teeth so hard he felt them screech in his jaw.
"Is that all that I am?" He asked, voice low. "A thing that has no right to be? Is what I make _other_
people feel all that I am?"
"Huh?!" Kacchan replied, loud. "The fuck are you talking about, shithead?"
"Let me go." Izuku said, steel in his voice.
"Or what?" Kacchan sneered.
—
"Oh, Izuku." Mom has sighed when he entered in the principal office.
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She looked over at Katsuki. The boy that was used to come to their house almost every day. That was a
lifetime ago, Inko realized, and Katsuki was no longer that tiny little boy that would thank her for
the drinks or sweets she'd bring them outside, the tiny little boy that would say bye with a huge smile
on his face at the end of each day.
That boy didn't exist anymore. Instead in front of her there was a young man, all nervous energy and
pent up rage.
She always wondered what went wrong between him and Izuku.
Katsuki was barely seating, visually trembling in an effort not to jump up and attack. There was a
copious amount of blood on his lips and chin, staining the front of his shirt, and a bruise was rapidly
getting more and more swollen, closing his right eye. Katsuki's nose was crooked, clearly broken.
On the opposite chair, Izuku was sitting perfectly still, not a single sign on him if not for the
single scorch mark on his shoulder. There was blood on his knuckles.
"Ms. Midoriya, thank you for coming so fast." The principal said, getting up from his seat.
"Katsuki-" She said, unable to resist the use of the name that was once so familiar on her lips. "Are
you-"
"I'm FINE." Katsuki all but yelled.
"We have already called an ambulance." The principal said to her unasked question. "They should be here
any minute now. In the meantime, I would like to discuss what happened—"
"There's nothing to discuss!" Katsuki interrupted, his voice slightly nasal. "Let me just take this
shithead outside and then we can have a fair fight, none of this sucker-punch bullshit, you shitty
little coward—"
"Shut up." Izuku interrupted, his voice venom and steel.
Inko flinched, looking at her son, her sweet, brilliant, gentle son.
What she found in those unseeing eyes, barely visible under the messy curls, scared her.
Katsuki bolted from his seat, and so did she and the principal, tackling him before his hand could
reach over to Izuku.
"Let me GO!" Katsuki yelled, trashing around. He was strong enough that despite the two adults
holding him he dragged them forward, his face inching closer to Izuku's "Let me have at this shitty
little crap! I'll teach him a lesson—!"
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Izuku spat in Katsuki's face.
"IZUKU!" Inko yelled, outraged.
Izuku got up, the chair he was sitting on crashing on the floor, and run out of the door.
—
The sound of the ambulance was far away, he couldn't hear it anymore. Izuku didn't move, curled up in a
ball on the roof, in his usual secluded spot.
He didn't want to move, he didn't want to think.
A small part of him wondered if he should just get up, climb over and the fence and _jump_ —
"I heard you punched a bitch today."
His entire body flinched as he instinctively turned his head over the source of the sound.
"Good."
Miki sat at his side.
"You look hungry." She said, fiddling with something, and the smell of curry reached his nostrils.
"I'll share the bento. This time."
Izuku was stupidly gaping, like a fish, and he knew it.
"So, you truly punched Bakugou?"
Izuku closed his mouth and nodded.
"Jerk had it coming." She snorted.
"I shouldn't have—" Izuku finally found his voice, low and raw.
"You shouldn't have let yourself get caught." Miki said, her mouth full. "But the punch? Fuck it. As I
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said: Jerk got it coming."
"Punches." Izuku corrected her.
"Huh?"
"I broke his nose with a right hook, got his eye with a left."
Miki let out a laugh, but it was mirthless.
"You look like shit." She said.
"Yeah, that's what Kacchan said too."
"Ugh. Why do you call him _Kacchan_."
Izuku shrugged. "Habit, I guess."
"Well, shake it. He doesn't deserve an affectionate nickname, not from you."
"He's—" _My friend_ , Izuku wanted to said. He shook his head. "We were friends, once."
"And now you're not, and he treats you like shit. Stop feeling bad. Play bitch games, win bitch prizes,
and all that."
That startled a small laugh out of Izuku. "You're impossible. It's not that bad—"
"Except it is." She interrupted him, cold. "I have eyes, Midoriya, and mine _works_ unlike yours."
That startled another laugh out of him, but Miki continued, her voice tense.
"I see how he treats you. How they all do. And it makes me mad. It's not right, a-and you are a good
person, and they are all trying their damn best to beat the goodness out of you, and that's _not
right._ "
Izuku has never wished so hard to be able to see, to be able to read the expression on his friend's
face, to understand what that note in her voice was.
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"It makes me want to use it against them all." Miki whispers. "What does that make me?"
Izuku doesn't have an answer, more than a little lost in the conversation.
"You're a much better person than me." She continued. "And I hate what they are doing to you."
"I'm not— Miki." Izuku whispers, urgency in his voice, he kneels, reaching out with a tentative hand.
"I— You're the only person in this world that has ever treated me like an equal. And I _attacked_ you.
I'm not— I'm not a good person—"
"You think I don't know why you did that? It hurt, at first." She replied, taking his wrist gently with
only three fingers. "To think you'd turn against me. I thought about it so much, Izuku. And it still
hurts, the idea that you've let all that negativity get the best of you—"
Izuku lets his head hang down, ashamed.
"B-but— I've been dismissive. I fished those feelings out of you. I should've explained why I didn't
want to spar. I should have told you about my quirk, about why people avoid me—"
"The pain." He whispers.
"The pain." She nods. "It's simple, isn't it? Touch someone, cause pure, unadulterated pain. So simple,
yet so effective. When my quirk fist presented I was holding my dad's hand. He left not long after
that."
"Miki—"
"I know how it feels, to be cast away. To be avoided, to be laughed at, to get insulted. I know how
painful it feels, and I admired you so much for the way you kept fighting despite everything. I still
do."
Izuku felt his throat clog up, his eyes wet.
"And I hate that the world seems to always do whatever it can to take what's good inside people a-and
twist it until it's not good anymore, and you didn't deserve any of this." Miki added, her voice
wavering, sniffing a little. "Izuku. I don't want to be mad anymore, can we be friends again?"
And Izuku sobs, angrily wiping at his eyes with his sleeves, and the sheer ridiculousness of it all
punches him. To talk of the darkness of the world in such terms and then realize that at the end of
they day all they are just this: children, lost in a place that always feels so unwelcome and scary.
"I didn't want to cry." He sobs out, angry. "I didn't want to cry in front of you and m-make you worry
anymore."
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"Oh please, you crybaby." She says, but Izuku hears the tears in her voice, too.
"I'm sorry Miki." He says, lower lip wobbling, turning towards her. "I'm sorry I attacked you. I- I
would love to be friends again."
Gentle arms close around him, Miki's face pressing against his hair.
"You're forgiven." She murmurs.
Izuku let out another sob, his face against her shoulder.
They kept hanging on one another for long minutes, in silence, and Izuku finally feels that knot in his
chest loosen for the first time in days.
"Do you want to know something?" Izuku says, voice low but not watery anymore. "I shouldn't be proud of
this... But—"
"What?" Miki says, relaxing her grip a bit to look down at him.
"I spit in Kacchan's face."
Miki let out a sort of spit-take before laughing heartily from her belly. Just like her mom.
2. Do. Better.
Suspended for four days.
It was kind of inevitable, really. He did sent Kacchan to the hospital, and pretty much the entire
school knew about it already.
He probably got it light, all things considered. Maybe the principal took pity on him. An upside, he
guesses.
The car ride is silent, and Izuku could feel the anger radiating from his mom. He knows he should
apologise for everything he put her through, but he can't find it in him, at the moment. The
confrontation with Miki has left him utterly devoid of energy, and as happy as he is to have his friend
back, he's a complete emotional mess.
"I should probably get back to the principal office—" He sighed, getting up. "The more I wait, the
worse things will get."_
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Miki nudged him a bit. "I'll text you later, ok?"_
He smiled at her before getting into the building and walking back to the office, where a seething mom
and a positively desperate principal were waiting._
"We are going over at Katsuki's house, later, and you _will_ apologize." Mom's voice cut through his
musing like steel, rudely jerking him back to reality.
"Yes." He replies, voice low.
"And I mean, really apologize." Mom adds. "What you did today— I don't even know what's with you—" She
sighs. "Izuku, we really need to talk."
"I know." He says. "I know. Just... I'm not ready for it, now."
He can hear mom's fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
"I really am sorry." Izuku adds, voice lowering. "I know what I did is wrong. And I know there's a lot
we need to talk about. Just... Not today."