Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku’s life had been good. Really, it had been. Sure, his father wasn’t in his life anymore, and sure he didn’t have that many friends, but his mother loved him. Even Kacchan cared for him a little bit. Even though he had pushed Izuku around a little after his fourth birthday came and went without any hint of a quirk, he still liked him. Even if Izuku had gotten a few bruises, and the words started to get meaner, and they hadn’t hung out in weeks, Kacchan still wanted to be the number one hero with him. He had to. This was the idea that Izuku clung to as his life was suddenly turned upside down. With just one ugly word, everything around him changed.
Quirkless.
But, though he was quirkless, his mother must still love him. He’d still have some friends, right? And he wasn’t useless like the doctor just said he would be, right?
He looked up at Dr. Tsubasa again, trying to hold in his tears as he explained to his mother that her son was quirkless, and no, it wasn’t a mistake. Though he didn’t have the joint that proved his quirklessness, the fact that it had been over a year since his fourth birthday and no changes had appeared was just too much to argue against. He either had a quirk too weak to even make a difference, or one that would never activate. Dr. Tsubasa guessed that it was the former. Izuku watched on as an emotion he’d never seen in his mother’s face before flashed across those bright green eyes. His tears spilled over as the features that looked so much like his own suddenly became unfamiliar. They were now cold. Dark. Angry..
Izuku’s mother abruptly stood up from her chair and grabbed him by the arm.
“I’m sorry for wasting your time, Dr. Tsubasa”, she growled out, as she dragged him towards the door. She yanked it open, and with one more pull, yanked her son out of the office.
“Mommy, stop, it hurts”, whined Izuku, but his mother simply continued to stomp along in silence to their car.
“Get inside, and shut up, Izuku”, was the only response that he received.
The drive home was filled with the same silence; so tense and close to breaking, yet Izuku couldn’t find the strength to get even a whisper out. His arm hurt, but he didn’t think that it hurt enough to bruise, so he just rubbed it a couple of times and tried to forget the look he had seen in his mother’s eyes. They pulled up to the apartment building, and he stayed silent as Inko parked, trailing behind her as they headed up to their own.
His mind was whirling, and going through all of his possibilities now that he didn’t possess a power of his own that was strong enough to become a hero, if he even had any power at all. Surely there was some way he could still become a hero, though the number one spot looked too far away for him to reach. He mumbled to himself, and decided that he would do whatever he could, and work as hard as possible, so that he could still help everyone, just like All Might.
But, as Inko unlocked the door, a question popped into his mind. Did his mother still think that he could become a hero? He had to ask. He figured she would tell him something like “Yes, but it will be much more dangerous for you honey”, or “maybe not the number one hero, sweetie, but I still believe that you can help people”. Yeah, he should ask her and see how much she still thought he could accomplish. And then they could come up with ideas of armor and weapons he could use! Sure, he didn’t have a quirk, but that didn’t mean he had to be useless!
Izuku cleared his throat and looked up to his mother.
“Um, mom?”
“WHAT, Izuku”, she snapped.
Oh, well, that didn’t sound good. But, maybe she was just tired because the appointment took a really long time.
“D-Do you think that I can still become a hero?”, he asked.
He didn’t expect her response.
She laughed, but it was high-pitched and bitter sounding . And then she said, in the meanest voice he had ever heard “No, Izuku, I don’t think you can be a hero. I don’t think you can do anything. You’re useless now, and it would be good for you to remember it. Now go to your room, disgusting child, and get out of my face. I don’t want to see you or hear you. Oh, and don’t bother coming out for dinner either”.
No. Nononononono she didn’t mean it. She was joking, right? Please, please be joking. But as Izuku looked into her icy, furious eyes, he knew that she had been honest. He really was useless. He was a nobody. Nothing. Those tears from earlier were back again full force, and gone were his plans of becoming a hero for anybody.
All Izuku could do was whisper out a quiet “Oh, okay”, as he turned and stumbled towards his room. He could hardly believe that someone he loved so much, and the only person who had been there for him his entire life really thought so poorly about him. And that was the thing. As much as he couldn’t believe it, he knew it was true. All of the promises and ideas he had come up with in the car and on their way back to the apartment had been to make himself feel better. To prove that he might still be able to do something. But his mother’s opinion was the only one he really, truly trusted. So, even though he never thought she could turn so cold, he believed her. He knew that she would never lie to him, and that’s why it hurt so badly.
He reached his room, tears falling down his face, and saw the All Might nameplate on his door. Oh, that smile. He wished so much that he could make that face right now. He tried, but the corners of his mouth barely lifted, and then he let out a choked, broken sob. He flipped the nameplate around, to hide that proud, wonderful, smile, and opened his door. He didn’t bother turning the light on as he made his way over to his bed, and collapsed on top of it. He pulled what he knew was an All Might blanket around his shoulders, and over his head, and curled up into the smallest ball he could make. Even as he tried to stay quiet for his mother, his sobs only grew louder. He buried his face into his pillows and didn't even try to come up for excuses for her as he cried himself to sleep. All he could think was that he was useless, and weak, and a nobody, and that his own mother thought the same.
He drifted off to sleep, still hiccuping and sniffling, and hoping that somehow, Dr. Tsubasa had been wrong.