Chapter Text
“I’m sorry ma’am,” the doctor was saying. “But based on these results, your son is quirkless.”
“Quirkless? No, that can’t be. I’m sure Izuku is just a late bloomer”, Inko replied.
Izuku sat in the doctor’s office, reading the posters on the walls. There were all sorts of posters about the advent of quirks and the different ways that having quirks affected the human body. Izuku saw different posters about emitter quirks, transformation quirks, heteromorphic quirks, and passive quirks. Despite being only 4 years old, Izuku had no trouble reading everything on the posters.
Izuku had always been a bright kid, speaking well before his first birthday, and knowing how to read by the age of 3. Kacchan and Izuku had gotten along very well as kids, both very gifted intellectually. However, when Kacchan’s quirk came in, he began to change. Like his quirk, his personality began to become much more explosive.
“-it’s rare, but it can happen,” Izuku heard as he tuned back into the conversation. “This test is 98% accurate, so there is a small chance that he will manifest a quirk. The fact that he hasn’t yet indicates that it might have specific activating conditions.”
It doesn’t matter. Izuku thought to himself. I’ll become a hero without one. Izuku noticed the tears his mother was trying to hide but decided not to let that bother him. He’d show that the doctor was wrong, he would make his mother proud, with or without a quirk.
- (2 months later) -
Izuku flinched when he heard the door slam. Recently, Izuku had noticed that he was becoming much more sensitive to sudden loud noises. He burrowed himself deeper into his book, writing idly in his notebook. He hoped that maybe today would be different.
It wasn’t.
Izuku took a deep breath as he heard the door to his room open. He could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the room. “So, brat,” his father sneered. “Did you get your quirk yet?”
“No,” Izuku mumbled, averting his eyes from the fire he knew he would see in his fathers’.
“What? Speak up damn it, and look at me when I am talking to you!” Hisashi snarled.
Izuku looked up slowly, “No father, my quirk did not come in today. Just like it didn’t come in the last time you asked.”
“Don’t sass me boy,” Hisashi growled. “Damn it,” he said as he unbuckled his belt, “I can’t believe you’re making me do this again.”
Izuku held his breath. He knew what was coming. He also knew that staying meek would minimize the damage. His father would rage and swing, and he would take the blows, making the sounds his father expected of him. Then eventually Hisashi would get bored and go back to drinking on the couch until he passed out.
20 minutes later, Izuku picked himself up off the floor of his room. Fortunately, his father had avoided drawing blood today so he wouldn’t end up making a mess on the carpet. Izuku limped his way to the bathroom to patch himself up. Once he’d applied the bruise and burn cream, he made his way to the kitchen to grab ice for the rest of his bruises. He tiptoed down the hallway past the living room, if he was careful, his father wouldn’t notice him and decide to go for round 2.
Sneaking into the kitchen, he saw his mother at the stove. She looked down at him with the usual tears in her eyes, “oh, Izuku…”
“I’m fine mom,” Izuku cut her off. “I just need my ice pack.”
“Izuku…” Inko knelt in front of him. He avoided looking in her eyes, so she put her finger under his chin and tilted his head up. “I know your father seems harsh, but he just wants for you to get your quirk so that you can live a normal life.”
“Whatever”, Izuku answered as he grabbed his ice pack and snuck back to his room. Closing the door to his room he leaned back against it and took some deep breaths to keep the tears from falling. He knew his mother was trying. She wasn’t a monster. In fact, the very first time Hisashi had tried to force Izuku’s quirk to manifest, she had tried to stop him. That night, Hisashi had almost put her in the hospital. Ever since then, Inko turned a blind eye to Hisashi’s actions and didn’t speak up.
No, his mother wasn’t a monster. She was just a coward.
- (3 years later) -
Izuku,
I’m so sorry. I just can’t keep living like this. I can’t live every day in fear and in pain. I know you will be ok, you’re stronger than I am. I love you my sweet boy.
-Mom
Izuku crumpled up the letter, disappointed but not surprised. With every day that Izuku failed to manifest his quirk, his father brutally beat him. As he got bigger, his father beat him harder, figuring he could take more pain. Ever since that first night, his mother had stood by as her son was brutalized day after day. If he was honest with himself, part of Izuku felt a sense of relief reading that letter. His mother’s pity and inaction always somehow hurt more than the beatings themselves. After 3 years, Izuku’s pain tolerance had gotten pretty high, but his emotions were still as vulnerable as they had been when he was 4.
Oh well, Izuku thought to himself. I’ve always been on my own anyway, what does it matter that now it’s official?
Izuku flinched when he heard the door slam. “BRAT!” Hisashi yelled, “WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?”
The door to Izuku’s room flew open. His father stood in the doorway fuming. Literally fuming, smoke rolling off his shoulders. He held a paper aloft, “The fuck is this!?! Did you drive your mother away with your damn quirklessness!?”
“No father,” Izuku answered clearly. He had long since learned that mumbling and sassing only made things worse. Sometimes, if he groveled enough, he would manage to escape the burns in favor of a good old-fashioned beating. Good thing too, since beatings tended to leave fewer scars.
“God damn it!” Hisashi yelled. “Well, since that useless bitch is gone, you’re going to have to start picking up her slack. Get started on dinner, NOW!”
“Yes father,” Izuku answered as he walked out of his room.
- (4 years later) -
Izuku stared at the TV in disbelief. Izuku’s eyes and ears were good, better than anyone he had ever met, but right now he was starting to doubt if they were working. Either that or he had finally lost his mind.
"After a 3-month investigation into the actions of the arsonist and villain Midoriya Hisashi, also known as the dragon," the commentator was saying, "we can confirm that thanks to the diligent work of the Musutafu police department in concert with the underground hero Eraserhead, he has finally been apprehended. The dragon has been active for the last 8 months, setting a grand total of –"
Izuku tuned out the rest of the broadcast as he walked away from the electronics store. I’m…free… Izuku thought to himself. I’m free? No, that’s not possible. Wait, what does this mean for me? After 4 years of cooking for Hisashi, Izuku was confident he’d be able to feed himself. On the money side of things, Inko still sent the occasional check from wherever she was. She’d always attached a letter to each of them, but Izuku had stopped reading them 3 years ago. If he sold Hisashi’s belongings and found a smaller apartment, he was reasonably certain he’d be able to keep himself steady until he graduated high school. If all things went well, once he graduated, he would be on track to be a pro-hero and would be able to fend for himself.
Holy Shit. Izuku thought to himself. I can’t believe it’s over. Whoever this Eraserhead guy is, he deserves a damn medal.