Chapter Text
The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Everyone started packing their things, eager to leave and go home. A young teen remained in his seat, curly green hair blocking his face from view as he furiously scribbled in a journal. If you asked anyone in his class, they'd say that Midoriya Izuku was a freak, a kid with delusions of heroism, and somebody that you shouldn't talk to out of fear of what the resident class bully would do to you if he thought that a "Deku" like Midoriya actually had friends.
Midoriya was so enveloped in his writing that he never noticed the door to the classroom opening, or the three figures stepping in. He'd just finished touching up his notes on Mt. Lady when a hand slammed heavily onto his desk, making him startle and drop his pencil. The sound of the piece of wood clattering to the floor way blocked out by the guffaws of the two lackeys behind a rather terrifying blond boy, whose teeth were bared in a smirk
"So, Deku," the blond drawled menacingly, looking down on him, "heard that you wanna apply to UA, eh?"
Midoriya started to fiddle with his hands nervously, trying to avoid eye contact. "y-yes, I was, Kacchan." He managed to squeak out.
Lackey 1 nudges lackey 2, "Hear that, man?" He says, "the little nerd still calls Bakugou Kacchan."
As the lackeys laughed, Midoriya leaned down to grab his pencil, making certain that he didn't make eye contact with the volatile blond. He flinched when Bakugou's sneaker smashed his pencil to splinters, falling out of his chair in surprise.
"Listen here you quirkless trash!" Bakugou hissed, grinding the remains of the pencil under his foot as he took a step forward. "UA's the place where the best of the best are made, so, naturally, I'm the first one from this shitty school that's gonna get in! And I don't need a fucking Deku like you getting in my way and fucking that up!" He whipped his head around to the lackeys, glaring holes into both of them. "And you two can shut the hell up!"
Midoriya scrambled backwards, desperate to avoid the other male's advancing form, not entirely sure that Bakugou wouldn't just step on him if he was underfoot. "I-I'm not trying to get in your way, Kacchan." His back was now against the wall, he could feel sweat slide down the back of his neck. "I just thought that there wouldn't be any harm in trying, right?"
"No harm?" Bakugou asked, his teeth bared in a snarl. Midoriya shrunk in on himself as a foot slammed right next to his head. "No harm?! You probably haven't got this shit thought your fucking head, dumbass, but you're fucking QUIRKLESS. You know what that means, right?" He didn't even wait for Midoriya to respond. "It means you're trash! Lower than trash! The only thing you'd ever be useful for is as a punching bag you fucking shit stain!" Bakugou removed his foot from the wall and walked over to Midoriya's desk. "And just what the fuck is this?" He spat mockingly, holding up the hero journal, still on Mt. Lady's page.
Midoriya leaped up, saying "That's mine, Kacchan! Please, give it back!" He reached for the notebook, only to recoil his hand from the heat of a small explosion. He watched in horror as Bakugou carelessly dropped the notebook, charred pages falling apart on impact with the floor, scattering amongst the pencil splinters.
"A journal on quirks? What would you use that for?" The blond snorted, turning and starting to walk away. He looked over his shoulder, "here's some advice; you want a quirk? Leap off the roof, and pray you'll have one in your next life!" He let out a cruel laugh, his two henchmen joining in before leaving the class, the door slamming shut with a tone of finality.
Midoriya stood in the exact same spot, looking at the remains of his journal. When he finally moved to pick up whatever was left, the paper crumbled to ash underneath his feather-like touch. He didn't know exactly what he was feeling as he stared at the ashes of a journal he had worked so hard on, it was like pain, yet not. His chest felt like it was hollow, was that normal? He didn't even know, or care. He took a deep breath, then sighed, scooping up the remains of his journal (didn't want to upset the janitors). The broken shards of his pencil were picked up as well, both are thrown into the trash bin as he walked by on his way out the door. Walking down the familiar tunnel that led home, he hoped that the day wouldn't end on a worse note.
The day ended on a worse note, it ended on a really worse note. The worst thing about it was that it'd actually started to get better before that. He'd actually managed to meet All Might, his personal idol since early childhood. Sure, he'd almost been suffocated by a sludge monster in the process, but that could be easily overlooked considering the fact that oh my god, he actually got to meet All Might. He'd actually thought that things would've gotten better, but they didn't. He was standing on a rooftop with All Might, after recovering from the initial shock of seeing the man, the legend's true form, he had asked his question. "Could someone quirkless like me become a hero?"
All his life, he'd held onto the hope that someday, somehow, he'd become a hero. He ignored the jeers and cruel taunts, the pitying looks his teachers gave him, his own mother's worried expression as he jotted down notes about heroes, but this? This was the straw that broke the camel's back. His idol, the man whom he'd aspired to be like all of his life, thought that he couldn't be a hero. The numbness from earlier was back, only a million times worse, it felt like he was a hollow shell walking. His backpack felt unbearably heavy, each step was a fight against gravity as he mindlessly walked home. His steps halted at the sound of a scuffle across the street, a crowd had already gathered, watching the fight with avid interest and occasional calls of encouragement to the heroes. Heroes.
Izuku stopped and stared. He'd almost started to run through the possible heroes at the scene, but shook his head once he realized just what line of thought he almost went down. Watching heroes fight? After what happened today? No thank you. He turned his back and continued walking, until he heard explosions and an awfully familiar roar of rage. Without another thought, he turned around and ran to the scene as fast as he could.
It's over, the slime monster that had had Kacchan in its suffocating grip was detained by the heroes after All Might had taken the villain down with a single punch. Normally, Midoriya would be freaking out and taking notes excitedly, but this wasn't the case this time.
The main difference? The two aggravated heroes staring down at him as he was being examined by the paramedics. He tried his best to avoid their disapproving gazes and instead focuses on the paramedic that was carefully wrapping a bandage on his arm. Huh, he didn't even notice has bleeding, that's adrenaline for you.
Eventually the heroes decided to speak to him, and when they did, it was with patronizing words and reprimands. Izuku couldn't help but clench his fists as they treated him like he was a toddler made of glass.
"Jeez, there's a limit to how rash you can be!" The pro-hero, Deathgoro, said irritably, making Izuku shrink into himself even further than he was before.
"There was absolutely no reason for you to put yourself in danger!" Kamui Wood continued, crossing his arms like a parent expecting an apology.
Ok, no, this was not going to continue. He was not going to apologize for trying to help the closest thing he had to a friend (and wow, didn't that say something about his social life), no way. Izuku took a deep breath, grabbed his charred backpack, which had somehow been found in the mess that was the battlefield, and stood up. He looked the two confused pro-heroes in the eye before starting to walk away from both them and Kacchan, who was now glaring at him like he was an ever persistent stain on his shoe.
Kamui Wood stopped him from leaving by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid, where do you think you're-" Izuku shrugs off the heroes hand and continues walking, only to be stopped once more by Deathgoro, who had jogged ahead to stand in front of him.
"Hey, you can't leave yet, you still have to fill out a police report of the incident." The hero said gruffly. "You're a minor, so the press won't be able to interview you without your parent's permission, so that's one thing out of the way, but you can't leave until you've filled out your side of the events."
"No offense, sir." Izuku said, practically craning his neck to look the easily six foot hero in the eyes. "But you saw what I did, there's no need for me to fill the report since they're going to take your word over mine." He smiled mockingly, "after all, I'm just the 'young civilian that rashly ran into the fray and needlessly put themselves in danger.'" Maybe it was the stress from the day, or the post adrenaline shock, but Izuku was done, and he just wanted to go home.
The hero frowned. "Look, I know we sounded rude, but we were just concerned. That criminal had a quirk even we couldn't fight against, and you just ran up and tried to fight them."
"That's the problem," Izuku interjected, letting the irritation and emotional exhaustion from the day dictate his words. "You were standing around, waiting for a hero with a better quirk to handle the situation to show up. Guess what? One did show, but at the last possible moment; meanwhile Kacchan, my classmate, was being suffocated by that slime, and you all just stood there and watched as he fought for air."
"Calm down, kid." Kamui tried to placate. "We weren't equipped for the situation, so we waited for backup, that's standard protocol."
"Did you ever consider attacking its eyes, the only part of its body that wasn't slime?" Izuku asked, "I threw a book bag at it and that was enough to buy Kacchan a few breaths of air, so why didn't you just go for its eyes? Is that part of 'protocol' too? Claiming you can't do anything when your usual way of handling it isn't an option?" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I've had a very rough day, sans slime monster, and I really want to go home. So am I going to have to make like a bat out of hell, or are you going to let me pass?"
The heroes seemed at a loss for words, so Izuku simply sidestepped them and continued on his way home. Halfway to his house he realized just what he had said to two prominent pro-heroes and groaned, face palming so hard both his hand and face stung from the impact. Izuku made sure to take the more obscure path home, not really wanting to be around people at the moment. His mind went over the day's events, starting from Kacchan's cruel words and ending with the heroes trying to scold him.
That's a laugh, considering all they did was stand around.
Izuku paused, wondering just where that thought had come from, but hesitantly acknowledged the truth of the statement. Heroes were supposed to be a positive influence on society, discouraging villainy and inspiring hope in the general population, yet when a civilian truly needed the help, all they did was stand back because their quirk 'wasn't suited for the situation'. Izuku was Quirkless and he had still managed to buy Kacchan some precious lungfuls of air with a book bag, of all things. Is that really the people he wanted to be around? People that relied so heavily on their quirks to help people that they didn't know what to do when using their quirk wasn't an option?
Becoming a police officer, like All Might told him to, wouldn't be any better; all they seemed to do was sit around and let the heroes do all the work, he honestly couldn't recall a single instance where the police had handled a villain situation all on their own. So if couldn't be a police officer and he couldn't be a hero, what could he be?
All Might had finally led the reporters off of his trail. Why reporters weren't considered a threat to heroes, he'd never know. He sighed as he replayed the fight in his head. The blond, Katsuki Bakugou according to his medical papers, had been held hostage by the villain he'd accidentally let lose earlier that day, the very same villain that'd almost suffocated that young Quirkless boy in the tunnel.
Midoriya Izuku, that was an entire other headache. The young man was spirited, he'd give him that, but he just wasn't suited for the hero business. At least, that's what All Might had thought before he saw a familiar head of green hair rush the slime villain to help Bakugou. The boy had spurred him to action, that in itself was commendable, and he'd almost thought about making the boy his successor; but that thought was discarded when the boy had almost been blown to bits by young Bakugou's quirk. He may be in need of a successor, but he didn't want to encourage such reckless behavior. He'd rather the boy be disappointed than dead.
Yet, as he overheard the boy's words to Kamui and Deathgoro, he couldn't help a shrivel of dread that something was going to happen because of his actions.
It was nearing sunset when Izuku arrived home. Staring at the door, familiar age old scratches casting shadows across the wood. He sighed before reaching for the handle, opening it with a loud call of "Mom, I'm home!"
If he didn't know any better, he'd say his mom's quirk was super speed, because in exactly point five seconds, his mother was in front of him cupping his face and bringing him close for worried scrutiny. Her hair was disheveled, like she'd ran her hands through it many times in worry, and her hands were shaky as she ran her thumbs across his cheeks. "Izuku, are you ok? I saw on the news that you were involved in a fight against a villain!" She fretted, moving from his face to his bandaged arm. The dull throbbing in his arm was replaced by a stab of guilt much more sharp, was this what he wanted to put her through so he could be a hero? Constant worrying and anxiety? His mother deserved so much more.
Izuku smiled at his mom, letting her check both of his arms before she lead him to the living room and sat them both on the couch. "Im fine, mom. It's just a few scratches." He rubbed the back of his head nervously, "I....also wanted to tell you something."
His mother didn't falter for a second. "You can tell me anything Izuku, dear. What is it?" She asked, placing a firm hand on his own, offering warmth and understanding.
"I..." He took a deep breath, readying himself. "I don't think I want to be a hero anymore, mom." He closed his eyes, not quite sure if he wanted to see his mother's reaction. Would it be relieved? Would she be happy he wasn't chasing an unattainable dream anymore?
His mother's hand stiffened, before she moved to pull him into a firm hug. "Izuku, what happened? I thought being a hero was your dream." She asked, her voice slightly muffled into his hair.
"I guess I had a reality check today, mom." He admitted, voice shaking slightly. "I'm still going to apply for Yuei. I just won't apply for the heroics department." Saying the word 'heroics' was like swallowing a barb at the moment for him.
His mom tightened her hug around him, then broke the embrace to hold him at arms length, looking at him directly. "I'll support you no matter what, Izuku, just make sure you're happy." She told him. "Now lets grab dinner, I made Katsudon, your favorite! We can eat it in front of the tv tonight."
Izuku smiled at his mother's attempt to cheer him up. "Thanks, mom. I think I'd really like that."
That's how the evening was spent, eating chicken katsudon and watching overly dramatic shows on the tv, often making commentary on just how unrealistic they were. Izuku chose to ignore the concerned sidelong glances his mother gave him and the hand occasionally squeezing his own, offering silent comfort.
It was well into the night by the time his mother reluctantly went to bed, sending one last worried look at him before closing her bedroom door. Izuku sighed, picking up the dishes on the coffee table and quietly placing them in the sink. His steps were deliberately soft as to not disturb his mother as me made his way further down to hallway to his room.
He opened the door only to be greeted by the numerous All Might posters he's placed on his walls. Turning on the light, he steps in and shuts the door. Dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor, he plops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling blankly as his mind tried to make sense of the insanity of the day's events.
After five minutes of looking at the ceiling he decided that that was going nowhere and sat up. Groaning slightly as he forced himself to stand and walk over to the computer to type in his passcode, he snorts at the sick humor as he types in the name of his ex-idol. Izuku squinted at the glaring light of the computer screen and his face twisted into a grimace as he was greeted by his screen's background, yet another picture of All Might. Was he really this obsessed? He quickly opens up his web browser and went to work.
Important people that are Quirkless.
No results....
Can a quirk manifest later than the age of four?
Nope, but there are a few adds for some 'revolutionary' treatments that supposedly give people quirks, he'll pass. He hesitated slightly before typing again.
Can a hero be Quirkless?
Wow, had that one yielded a lot of results. Scrolling through, it revealed that they're all mostly just some internet blogger or another ranting and raving, saying pretty much what Kacchan says to him on a daily basis; "People without quirks are useless." This, and "they don't have a reason to live." That. Huh, they might actually have a point on that one. He was just about to log off of his computer, when one blog title caught his eye.
Vigilantes: Criminals With Morals, Or The True Heroes?
Intrigued, the green haired boy clicked the link and started to read. He had to admit, the writer had a lot of good points for both sides, but what had intrigued him the most was the comments section at the end of the post. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on this, some for it, some against it, and some in between.
Gaiara wrote: You make a compelling argument for both sides, but you're looking too deep into this. Vigilantes are criminals, they go against the law, which was created to protect the people. If everyone started running around doing whatever the hell they wanted, civil life as we know it would cease to be.
Disruptive-Wealth wrote: While Gaiara has a point with people doing whatever they want resulting in anarchy. I choose to see it a bit differently. Vigilantes are stuck with two choices, let an immoral act be committed, or break the law to fix it. Vigilantes typically have a strong sense of morals and decide to choose the lesser of the two evils, in this case the former of the two options. Most of them recognize what they're doing is wrong and own up to their actions when arrested. In most cases where a hero can't act out of threat of legal repercussions, which isn't as rare as you might think, a vigilante would step in to serve justice. They don't choose between right and wrong, per say, but they're choosing between two wrongs and acknowledge that that doesn't necessarily make a right.
Izuku paused at that, reading and re-reading that little paragraph of text until it was practically committed to memory. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, just how many vigilantes were out there? What made a vigilante a vigilante? Did they rely on their quirks, or avoid that out of risk of identification?
He opened a new tab and entered in his questions. The results were few, a government list stating maybe five vigilantes in the last few years overall, but the incidents they involved themselves in were numerous; stopping hostage situations, stealing back stolen artifacts, taking action against people that acted with legal impunity, the list kept going. With every vigilante there was a fan page of sorts, where people would clamor and chat about the vigilante's latest or previous acts.
A vigilante saved my little brother when the heroes were waiting for a hostage negotiator. The culprit had a gun to my brother's head and the guy knocked it away like it was nothing! The law may be against vigilantes, but in some cases they're just as good or even better than the heroes.
Just as good, or even better than the heroes; that one sentence resonated within Izuku, repeating over and over as he clicked a link leading to the final vigilante on the government's list; Kuroko, the Black Fox. Izuku let out a contemplative hum as he read over the vigilantes information, not processing half of it in favor for the other thoughts running rampant him his head. What had made him pause was the final paragraph to the page.
To this day, the true identity of Kuroko has never been discovered. The last reported incident involving this vigilante was four years ago, a villain was holding the wife and child of a prominent politician hostage. Kuroko paralyzed the villain from the waist down with a single brutal blow to the neck. No reports of Kuroko were filed after this incident. It is believed that Kuroko died from his injuries, as the villain had an electricity quirk and according to the hostages had electrocuted Kuroko for several minutes.
The comments section of the Kuroko's page was extensive. Some arguing that he was the most dangerous kind of criminal, and some saying that if he was a hero, he'd easily surpass All Might.
Izuku's thoughts grounded to a halt when he came to a revelation. His face broke into a grin as he spun away from the computer, giddy with excitement. He was thankful that his room didn't carry noise well, because the sound of tearing paper would have most certainly woken his mother up. The posters of All Might that had once hung on his walls proudly now laid in tatters on the floor, torn so thoroughly they'd be better suited for confetti purposes rather than posters. Izuku laid on his bed, covering his face in mirth. One thought running through his head as he unabashedly giggled into his hands.
If I can't be a hero, what's stopping me from being a vigilante?