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“Can I be a hero even without a quirk?”
Izuku’s heart was jumping in his chest, his heartbeat thundering in his ears and thrumming in his fingertips. This was the question that had followed him all his life. He never wanted anything else, he only ever wanted to help people. It was what kept him going when the world seemed too dark and cruel to last another day. When the bullying of his peers and the harsh comments of his teachers became too much. When his self-depriciating thoughts turned into overdrive and he seemed to drown in despair.
“Can I be a hero even without a quirk?”
It all came down to this one question, didn’t it? And by asking it to All Might, the number one hero, his idol… Izuku lay all his hopes and fears and dreams into the man’s hands.
His whole future, packed into one sentence.
What would the verdict be?
Hesitatingly, the green-haired boy opened his eyes, having closed them to not see the immediate reaction to his question. He knew better than to put himself through that.
However, he wondered for a moment if it had been a good idea, because where All Might had been just seconds prior, there was now a gaunt man, looking like a skeleton with his hollow cheeks and sunken eyes and really, Izuku had no idea what had happened.
“A-All Might?”, he asked tentatively.
The man sighed deeply.
“Yes, it’s me. I had a rather… unpleasant run-in with a villain a few years back. I was severely wounded and now I can only hold my muscle form for about three hours a day.”
“O-Oh.”
Yeah, very eloquent. Good job, Izuku, the boy chided himself and he was just about to add some musings about what villain could have done this to All Might, but the man beat him to it.
“You see, even my power couldn’t prevent me from getting hurt like that. With no power’s whatsoever… It would be much too dangerous. Without a quirk, you’d be just a liability in the field. So my answer is no, you can’t be a hero without a quirk. It’s good to dream, but you need to stay realistic.”
No.
You can’t be a hero without a quirk.
You’d just be a liability.
Stay realistic.
Fragments of the hero’s words tumbled around in Izuku’s mind while he tried to comprehend their actual meaning. All Might, the very same number one hero that said anybody could be a hero in interviews, didn’t believe that he could make it. He didn’t believe in him.
You can’t be a hero.
“Oh.”
Cold dread settled in his chest, weighing him down.
“I see.”
Apparently, a hint of his despair showed on his face, prompting the hero to speak up again:
“If you really want to help people, you can still be a police man or a doctor, you know.”
The man shrugged a little helplessly, clearly out of his depth in this situation. After a few awkward seconds of silence between them – Izuku still trying to wrap his head around the fact that not even All Might believed in him – the gaunt man turned and made his way over to the door leading down the building.
“Make sure to come home safe”, he said as a goodbye and waved lazily over his shoulder as he left the boy behind.
Izuku didn’t say anything in return. He was still in shock, probably had been in shock ever since he woke up after the sludge villain had attacked him earlier.
Did All Might… really just crush his dreams and leave him on a rooftop? After he’d been attacked by a villain that nearly drowned him and he didn’t get any medical attention? After he had revealed something about himself that must be a national secret?
Did that really just happen?
“You need to stay realistic.”
Did All Might even know what being realistic meant for a quirkless kid? That he was bullied constantly and graded unfairly by his teachers who accused him of lying and assaulting other students? That suicide baiting was a normal occurrence? That statistically speaking, there was a 78% chance of him not reaching adulthood, either due to hate crimes or suicide, and a 91% chance of him not surviving until age 30? That there was nearly a one-hundred percent chance that he would end up unemployed or not earning enough money to have a roof over his head and enough to eat? That he would most likely never be able to study, since there was only one university in Japan even allowing quirkless students?
So much about becoming a doctor, he thought bitterly.
No, there were only two ways for him to go: Either he’d become a hero or a hardship case. And he wouldn’t live to be the latter, then it would be better to just end it here and now. To not burden society and his mom any more than he had already done. His mom who was working so hard and barely ever was home when he was. Who was too tired to talk to him when she came home. Who was sometimes so down that she yelled at him for making her life miserable, although Izuku knew she didn’t mean to. Who slapped him or threw plates at him when she had bad days, but that was just a symptom of her stress, she’d never want to hurt him. He didn’t blame her, of course, after all he knew how hard it was to provide for a quirkless child as a single mother. It was only natural that she would sometimes forget to buy groceries (for him, there was always enough to eat for her when she was home, a tiny voice whispered in the back of his head) or that she had so much work that she couldn’t come home (for weeks?), she had just too much on her plate. Really, he did understand.
That didn’t mean he liked it.
Actually, he was pretty sure that her life would be better without him. That anybody’s life would be better without him.
“If you really want to be a hero, take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk in your next life.”
Yeah, Kacchan would be glad, too.
He was so lost in his dark thoughts that he didn’t even notice how his hands shook and silent tears streamed down his cheeks. His shoulders twitched when he hiccupped, and it was that little sound carried away from the late afternoon-breeze that shook him out of his stupor.
Indeed, there were only two ways: He would be a hero, or he would die today.
He let his backpack fall heavily to the ground when he neared the railing on the building’s edge. His shaking hands gripped the cold metal in a vice grip, his knuckles turning white.
He stared down.
He saw the empty sidewalk below, the dark grey street made of unforgiving concrete.
From this height, I’ll be dead the moment I hit the ground. I’ll just have to endure the fall.
The freckled boy lifted his head and stared into the setting sun. It was beautiful. So, so beautiful. The fiery red and orange at the horizon, the soft pink and the purple clouds…
Wouldn’t it be worth to see another sunset like that?, a small voice whispered in his head. Don’t you want to live?
And Izuku…
He just didn’t know!
If he couldn’t be a hero, what was the use in trying? Nobody ever had believed in his dream, neither his mom nor Kacchan nor his other classmates nor his teachers. Even All Might told him that he couldn’t do it. What more did he need to see that it was time to just give up? That a worthless, pathetic Deku like him would never have any use to anybody, could never save anybody. He was just a waste of space, a burden on society. So why was it so hard to let go? Why couldn’t he just give up and accept his fate?
“You need to stay realistic.”
And this was his reality, wasn’t it?
Fresh tears flooded from his eyes, still untypically silent. He really didn’t know what to do.
“One more chance”, he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse from crying. “I’ll take one more chance and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll… I’ll j-jump.”
None of the people he knew believed in him, so maybe he’d have to ask a random stranger. Yes, he would just dial a random number and tell them that he was quirkless and wanted to be a hero and if they laughed at him, he would end it here. And if they didn’t… he’d keep on trying.
Without giving a conscious command to do so, his hand reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He unlocked it and stared on his background – a picture of All Might’s signature grin he downloaded – before he opened his phone app. He added the Japanese area code and then just tapped on random numbers until he had a whole phone number.
He took a deep, shaking breath.
I’ve got nothing to lose, he reminded himself. Even if I tell them that I’m quirkless, they could be anywhere in Japan and we’ll never meet. There’s no need to be afraid.
And with another deep breath he hit the call button.
It rang. And rang. And ra…
“Hello?”, a gruff, male voice asked, sounding incredibly tired and annoyed.
Izuku’s breath sped up and he couldn’t get a word out.
“Hello?!”, the man asked again and he sounded even impossibly more annoyed now. “If this is meant to be a joke, it’s not funny. Wherever you got this number, never call me again.”
And Izuku knew the stranger was about to hang up, but he didn’t even go through with his plan and he had to ask the man his question, he had to know what to do, if he could live and…
“Please don’t hang up!”, he nearly screamed, completely panicked, ragged breathing sounding loud in the evening air. “I… I-I need to a-as-ask you s-somet-thing.”
Shouta was tired.
Not that this was anything new for the underground hero Eraserhead, also known as Shouta Aizawa. Rather, it was more or less a constant state at this point. A fact of nature. The sun rose in the east, water boiled at 100°C and Shouta Aizawa was tired. However, there were just some days that were even more tiring than others and today was one such day. He couldn’t even pinpoint what it was that drained him of all energy today. He’d only taught law and ethics to 3A and 2B, since he didn’t have a homeroom anymore after he expelled his whole class, both of which were rather easy-going classes. 2A with Hado and her never-ending questions was far more tiring. And his patrol last night was fairly quiet, too. There really was no reason for him to feel this tired, but he was and it annoyed him greatly.
So he did the only logical thing in this situation: He chugged a cup of black coffee, before he wrapped himself up in his sleeping bag to take a nap under his desk.
A soft chuckle reached his ear and he glared at the loud, blond man at the desk right beside his: Hizashi Yamada, alias Present Mic, alias Shouta’s husband. And if he didn’t love the sound of the others chuckles so much, there would be a lot more heat in his glaring. As it was, however, he just made the blond man laugh.
Shouta huffed and rolled his eyes. Nevermind, he loved the sound of his husband’s laughter, too.
“Good night, caterpillar”, Hizashi teased lightly, but there was a softness and warmth in his eyes that immediately quelled any anger he could have caused. Still, Shouta didn’t deign him with a reply and just closed his eyes. With Hizashi sitting right next to him, he felt secure enough to sleep somewhat deeply, so he let himself be lulled by the rhythmic typing of his husband’s slender fingers on his computer keyboard. But before he could truly fall asleep, the vibrating of his phone in his pocket interrupted his nap.
For a moment he was tempted to just ignore it, but it could be his boss and he knew better than to ignore the rat. So he pulled out his phone with another annoyed huff and looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
“I swear, if this is some advertising call, I’ll…”, he grumbled, feeling summer-green eyes and a sunny smile flickering in his direction. Still, it could be a hero he’d never worked with before (unlikely, but possible), so he still answered the call.
“Hello?”
He was met with silence from the other end of the line.
“Hello?!”, he asked again, his previous annoyance coming back full force and seeping into his voice. “If this is meant to be a joke, it’s not funny. Wherever you got this number, never call me again.”
He heard heavy breathing but no answer and just as he was about to hang up, a voice finally spoke up: “Please don’t hang up! I… I-I need to a-as-ask you s-somet-thing.”
The voice sounded male, but young and oh so desperate and frantic. It was a tone he never wanted to hear on a child and the person on the phone clearly was a child. Hurriedly, he sat up and nearly bumped his head on his desk. He ignored his husband’s questioning gaze and spoke softly into the phone:
“Alright, I’m still here. I’ll listen.”
There was another pause, before the boy spoke up again: “R-Really?”
“Yeah, kid. I’ll listen. You can ask me whatever you want.”
He heard a quiet sigh and then a choked “Thank you” followed by a sniffle and oh gods, the kid was crying and Shouta was definitely not suited to deal with crying children. A little panicked he looked up to see Hizashi staring right back at him, a confused and worried frown on his face.
“What is it?”, he mouthed soundlessly.
Shouta just shook his head and unzipped himself from his sleeping bag with one hand, the other still holding his phone to his ear to hear even more sniffles. He stood up, holding his phone like a lifeline.
Maybe it’s the boy’s lifeline, a quiet voice in his head told him. He sure sounds distraught enough for that to be true…
Yeah, Shouta did not like that thought.
From the phone, he could still hear suppressed sniffling and then suddenly loud coughing. Loud enough that even Hizashi could hear it, when the widening of his green eyes was any indication.
“Who’s that?”, the blond mouthed again, receiving a helpless shrug from the dark-haired man.
“Kid?”, Shouta asked. “Are you alright? That didn’t sound good.”
“S-Sorry”, the boy stuttered, still catching his breath. “I’m f-fine.”
“No need to apologize, kiddo. Just take some deep breaths. Can you do that for me?”
He didn’t get an answer this time, but he could hear the boy sucking in air on the other end of the line, so he was doing what he asked him to do.
“Good job, kid. You’re doing good”, the underground hero praised him and he was highly relieved when the last of the coughing had stopped. “Hey, kiddo, can you tell me your name?”
There was another pause and Shouta creased his brow in worry before he finally heard: “Izuku.”
“Izuku, alright. Thanks for telling me. You can call me Shouta.”
“O-Okay.”
“So, you said you wanted to ask me a question, yes?”
“Y-Yeah…” The kid sounded so timid and sad, it broke the hero’s heart. “I-If you hav-ve time, that i-is.”
“I do. Everything’s fine.”
“A-Alright…” There were another few seconds of silence, then the boy asked: “Are y-you sure?”
Shouta had to hold in a sigh, knowing that it wouldn’t help to let his impatience show, and answered sternly: “I am. Don’t worry, just ask.”
“Okay…” He heard Izuku taking a huge breath, before he rushed out: “DoyouthinkIcouldbeaheroevenwithoutaquirk?”
What?
Shouta didn’t know what his expression showed, but he assumed it was a mix of worry and confusion, seeing as he felt a little overwhelmed by the speed the child could talk. At least he felt just as confused as Hizashi looked while he examined the ravenets mimic.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”, Shouta asked. “That was really too fast for me.”
A strange noise came over the phone, something akin to a breathless whimper.
“I-I asked i-if I cou-ould be a h-hero even witho-out a qu-quirk?” Izuku’s voice broke at the end and was thick with unshed tears.
And, oh, it made so much more sense now.
“You’re quirkless?”, the Erasure Hero asked uncharacteristically softly and carefully. From the corner of his eye he could see Hizashi clasping a hand over his mouth.
This time the whimper was clearly audible, just as the following frantic apologies:
“I’m so sorry to take up your time and asking stupid questions! I shouldn’t have called! I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous and I already got an answer today and you’ll say the same and oh gods, I’m so pathetic, I really shouldn’t even have hesitated, everybody would be glad and I’m so sorry!”
“Slow down Izuku.” Shouta’s voice was carefully neutral. “As I said before: There’s no need to apologize.”
“B-But I dist-turbed you a-and took up your t-time.”
“It’s still alright. Nothing to worry about. I have time and you didn’t disturb me at all.”
He shot a warning glare at Hizashi, who stifled a laugh at that. Izuku did disturb Shouta’s nap and usually that was a guarantee for invoking his wrath upon you, but this situation was just different.
“…’m still sorry”, came the hesitant reply and this time Shouta did sigh.
“It’s okay. But could you tell me what you meant when you said you shouldn’t have hesitated and everybody would be glad?”
“…”
“Kid?”
“…”
“Izuku!”
“I’m quirkless”, the boy whispered, followed by another coughing fit.
“Yes, I know. That’s why you asked in the first place. But I really need you to answer my question.” He had a bad feeling about it and his gut feeling was usually right. After being an underground hero for so long and seeing the dark depths of human nature firsthand every night on patrol, he had a sixed sense for dangerous situations and at the moment all his alarm bells rang. And that was not even including all the red flags that simply being quirkless raised if you were a halfway decent person and knew that statistics on the quirkless population. And Shouta considered himself a decent human being and he knew the statistics, had seen how cruelly the quirkless were treated. Intense bullying, mental health problems, suicides, hate crimes… He really didn’t like the picture that was painting for the child on the other phone.
Clearly, something wasn’t right with the kid. And considering the aforementioned statistics, it was very likely that…
The black-haired man furrowed his brow in concern. “Izuku, are you safe?”
“S-Safe?”
“Yes. Are you safe where you are? And uninjured?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m alone h-here, so I sh-should be safe…?”
“Where are you then?”, Shouta asked urgently, noticing that the boy hadn’t answered his other question about being uninjured. He suddenly got the feeling that he had to find this boy before he did something stupid, something he couldn’t ever undo.
“I-I’m on top of a-a build-ding. I don’t know w-where exactly…”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, Shouta cursed inwardly. A quirkless boy, obviously distraught, and on top of a presumably tall building: That really wasn’t a combination he liked.
“Okay, Izuku, I need you to do something for me, alright? I want you to tell me if there is anything around you recognize. A building, a river, whatever. Do you see anything?”
“I… I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t think it w-would be a g-good idea to l-look down at the moment.”
Shouta’s mouth went dry while his throat clenched up at that statement. If Izuku feared what could happen, what he could do, when he looked over the railing, the situation really was as bad as he feared.
“You’re right. Then please go to the middle of the roof and sit down there. I’ll find you.”
For some reason, this seemed to push the boy over his breaking point, but fortunately not in the worst possible way. The black-haired hero could hear him full-on crying over the phone.
“W-Why would you e-even do that? Just… Just tell m-me your answer! T-Tell me that a w-worthless, useless, stupid De-eku like me can nev-never be a hero!”
“That’s not true!”, Shouta almost shouted, desperate to save that kid. “Please, Izuku, you being quirkless has nothing to do with your ability to become a hero! A quirk is just a tool. By not having one, you may lack said tool, but that just means that you need something else to make up for it.”
“S-Something”, sniffle, “else?”
“Yeah. Like support-items or something.”
“Like… Like Eraserhead’s capture weapon?”
Shouta was shell-shocked when he heard these words. How did this boy know about him? He was an underground hero, meaning that civilians shouldn’t know about his existence at all. Unless he knew somebody he saved? Was that it? Be that as it may, he wanted to keep the boy talking, lest he might do something dramatic (and to be honest, he really was curious now), so he asked:
“Who’s that?”
“E-Eraserhead is an u-underground hero. He’s super cool. He fights mostly quirkless, since his quirk isn’t flashy or anything and he has that long scarf that he uses to swing around b-buildings or bind enemies and…”
Suddenly the boy broke off and the stutter, that had been nearly forgotten when he started mumbling, came back:
“S-Sorry, I did-didn’t mean to ram-mble…”
“It’s alright, kiddo. You sure know your heroes, don’t you?”
Suddenly, Hizashi tapped at his arm frantically, as his loud husband shoved his own phone into Shouta’s face. On the screen, there was a message from Nedzu with an address somewhere in Musutafu. Apparently, the rat had listened in over the security cameras, had somehow gained access to Shouta’s phone and traced the call back. The Erasure Hero really needed to talk with his boss about privacy, but that was a problem for future Shouta. Right now, he was just glad that they had a way to find the boy.
“Izuku?”, he asked urgently. “I’m on my way. Keep on talking with me, okay?” While he spoke, Hizashi and Shouta already ran out of the teacher’s lounge and into the parking lot, jumping into their car. Zashi was driving, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white and without a trace of his usual smile on his face. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern and worry. Shouta was sure he looked exactly the same.
“D-Do you think…”, Izuku’s hesitant voice came over the phone, “… t-that a-ana-nalysis could be s-something else?”
For a moment, Shouta was confused before he remembered where their conversation had stirred before they ran out of the school, then he felt surprised. He didn’t expect the boy to ask about something so specific. Usually, a distressed child would rather ask him what else there was that could give him an edge, but here the kid was, asking about analysis specifically. That could only mean one thing:
“Kid, do you write analysis?”
“I… I like t-to analyze q-quirks…”, he answered, voice even more meek than before, as if he was waiting for Shouta to make fun of him or something. Which was probably exactly what other people did.
“That’s great, Izuku!” The ever-tired hero tried to put as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could in his worried and sleep-deprived state, which was not very much at all and gained him an amused snort from Hizashi. He shot the blond a glare, but hurriedly returned his focus to the still sniffling and very much not okay child on the phone that was standing on top of a tall building after somebody had told him that he couldn’t reach his dream of being a hero and he was quirkless and probably bullied and likely suicide-baited and for fuck’s sake, drive faster Hizashi!
Of course he knew that his husband couldn’t put other road-users at risk by driving like a berserk (nevermind that he was already above the speed limit), but at that moment he really cursed all the other drivers on the street.
“Do you r-really think t-that? Bec-cause everyb-body else says it’s c-creepy a-and I’m a-a stalker and it p-probably isn’t even g-good at all a-and…”
“Analysis is not creepy, on the contrary, if it’s properly done it’s very impressive. And usually analysts are not stalkers but just very observant, which they need to be. And about your analysis not being good… Well, why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I’ll be with you in a few minutes, then you can show me, okay, kiddo?”
“You’d r-really want t-to see it?”
“I’d love to!”
“A-alright.”
Shouta felt some of the tension in his shoulders release, but he was still far from relaxed. He needed to be sure.
“That means you’re gonna wait for me, right? So you can show me.”
“I-I… Yes. You couldn’t read it by yourself.” The last sentence was mumbled so quietly that Shouta nearly didn’t pick it up and he was sure Izuku didn’t mean for him to hear. He did, however, hear it.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Hm? O-Oh… Ahm… It’s… It’s w-written in c-code, just to b-be sure.”
“That’s very clever, Izuku.”
The hero could hear the boy squeal at the other end of the line and even though Shouta had no idea what that child looked like, he was sure that he was blushing right now. The thought made him almost smile, but he suppressed the up-ticking of the corners of his mouth. After all, he had a very stern reputation to uphold, although his husband already knew how soft he could be.
Thinking about Hizashi… He looked over at the blond and was a little surprised to see him talking to a police officer through the car window. At the same time, he noticed that the car had only been creeping forward for the last few minutes and came now to a full stop. There was a police barrier up ahead.
Zashi thanked the officer and closed the window again, turning to Shouta and mouthing: “Villain attack”.
Fuck.
They really didn’t have time for that.
So Shouta just nodded curtly, put his phone on speaker and put it down on the middle console.
“Alright, Kid. There seems to be an issue here, a villain attack as far as I know.”
“Y-Yeah, I can h-hear something f-from h-here… Like exp-plosions?”
“Good, that means we’re close… Listen, I’m in the car right now, but I come to you without it. It will be faster this way. However, I leave my phone here with my husband.”
“H-Husband!”, Izuku squeaked.
“Yes, husband. His name is Hizashi. Is it alright if he keeps on talking with you?”
After a moment, the boy agreed and the Voice Hero smiled brightly.
“Hey there, kiddo!”, Zashi greeted a lot more subdued than he usually was, but still bright and happy. “I’m so curious why you called Shou! He didn’t tell me anything yet and since he only put his phone on speaker like a minute ago, I couldn’t hear your side of the conversation. So you gotta tell me everything yourself, ya dig?”
He paused to give Izuku the chance to answer, and when he did, the kid’s voice sounded very confused. “Why do you sound exactly like Present Mic?”
“WOAAaah! You recognized my voice, little listener! That’s amazing!” Zashi’s enthusiasm could not be dampened by his husband erasing his quirk midway.
“I l-listen to-to your show”, Izuku murmured lowly. “You r-really are Pr-Present Mic?”
“Of course I am, little listener! The one and only!”
“Then… Then this number… the man it belongs to…”
“… is my husband. Don’t let his grumpy demeanor discourage you, he’s gruff on the outside but a real softy at heart.” Hizashi laughed at the sour look Shouta gave him for that comment. Then the underground hero rolled his eyes and held a hand out, pointing at his phone with the other. Hizashi stared at him for a moment, before he understood the gesture and handed his own phone over to his husband while still concentrating on Izuku’s voice coming from the speaker.
“Oh my gods”, the boy murmured. “That… That can’t be happening. Of all people… Present Mic… Why…” He was interrupted by another hard coughing fit.
“Hey, hey, hey, kiddo! No need to get so worked up!”
“B-But I to-ok your time! Y-You could be d-doing some-mething more imp-portant than t-talking with m-me.”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, little listener! I want to talk to you, ya dig?”
“You can talk this out later”, Shouta interrupted, pocketing Hizashi’s phone after he had glanced again at the GPS-position of the kid’s phone. “I’m on my way now. Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes until I’m with you, okay?”
“O-Okay…”
Without another word, but with a soft, loving look at the beautiful blond love of his life, he was out of the car and shut the door behind him. He knew he left Hizashi alone with a still panicking child on the phone, but luckily, the Voice Hero was very good with children. (Just as was Shouta, but the dark-haired hero would rather bite off his own tongue of than agreeing to that.) He just heard his wonderful husband shush the child, keeping his tone light and cheery, before the noise from inside the car broke off.
Shouta, now in full Eraserhead-mode, lifted his capture weapon and shot it out to the nearest fire escape to pull himself up to the nearest building, starting to swing and parkour his way to Izuku.
He caught a glimpse of the villain fight when he swung by unnoticed. There was fire all over the place, giving Backdraft a run for his money, and a whole bunch of other pro heroes standing uselessly around and doing nothing. For a split second, he considered to go help them, but there really wasn’t much he could do there. After all, the pros already there should be able to handle the situation.
And besides, he had a child to save.
He was only two blocks away, when a gust of wind shot up into the sky, changing the weather and causing a sudden down pour.
Looks like All Might arrived, Shouta thought ironically. He was no big fan of the number one hero, but he had to admit that he was a good hero. Whoever was involved in that villain attack should be save by now.
So I just need to make sure that the same is true for Izuku.
He swung a little faster.
Izuku was freaking out. When he decided to call a random number, he really hadn’t thought things through. He didn’t even believe that whoever answered the call would talk to him instead of just hanging up. And now here he was, talking to Present Mic – Present Mic! – about his analysis notebooks and the Voice Hero’s husband was on his way to him. It felt completely surreal.
“Hey little listener”, the blond hero said suddenly, “I think Shou must be with you any moment. He’s pretty fast, ya dig?”
“I… I don’t know i-if he can-can enter the b-building, thou.” Izuku looked over to the door leading to the roof. He was too caught in his thoughts to notice how All Might had left the building, but he was quite sure that he hadn’t taken the door. It was very likely locked, just like the door to the rooftop in his own apartment building.
“Ah, don’t you worry about that, kiddo! He won’t need a door or anything to get to you. Can I tell you a secret, little listener?”
“Ah… I-If you want t-to…”
“Sure thing, you’ll notice in a second anyway. But you can’t tell anyone, got it?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Alright. You see, my lovely husband you called… He’s a hero, too!”
“What?”, Izuku squeaked, at the same time noticing a noise behind him and turning around. A tall, dark man stood behind him. He wore black clothes and an utility belt around his waist, wild black hair framed his face and his eyes were hidden behind yellow goggles. Around his neck was a very long, light grey scarf.
The green-haired teen almost didn’t notice Present Mic’s voice that was still coming over the phone: “Yes! In fact, he’s…”
“Eraserhead”, Izuku breathed, looking at his second favorite hero (and he always meant it like the second hero on the first place of his personal ranking, but after everything that happened today, he may be his only favorite hero) with stars in his eyes.
The black-haired man lowered his goggles and raised an eyebrow at the teen, who was to shell-shocked to understand anything Present Mic said over the phone. Then Eraserhead held out his hand and after a second Izuku understood what he wanted and handed his phone over.
“Zashi”, the underground hero drawled. He listened for a moment, eying the teen before him with a measuring gaze, before he said:
“Yes, looks like. The situation with the villain should be handled in the meantime, bring the car over as soon as possible. I’ll check in with the kid.”
Then he hung up and handed Izuku his phone back. The boy grabbed it and pushed it deep into his blazer pocket, his still stunned gaze never leaving the dark-haired hero in front of him.
“You’re Eraserhead”, the boy breathed, stars nearly visible in his wide, bright green eyes.
“I am”, the man answered tiredly. “Good job on going back to the middle of the roof, I know it can be hard to do in situations like this.”
But the greenet didn’t even listen. This was Eraserhead! His favorite hero! And he was standing just a few feet away from him, after having swung to him with his capture weapon and he’s so cool and oh gods he’d talked to Eraserhead all along and he must have sounded so desperate and…
“Breath, kiddo”, the hero’s gruff voice interrupted his spinning thoughts. A deep blush crept over his cheeks and he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, while he breathed in deeply which resulted in him having another coughing fit and blush even more.
Great, now I look like a strawberry, Izuku deadpanned internally.
While he hid behind his hands, he didn’t notice the worried look Eraser gave him. There were burn marks on his genkan, especially on his shoulder and some white bandages peeked out from under his sleeve. Also, there was dirt all over the boy’s cloths and a slimy, brown-green substance stuck in his hair. All in all, he looked remarkably like the stray kitten Aizawa had found behind a dumpster and brought to the shelter two nights ago on patrol: dirty, cold, slightly malnourished and scared of everyone and everything around him.
“Izuku?”, Eraser asked and the teenager looked up, still red-faced and utterly embarrassed. “Where do these burn marks on your clothing come from?”
Immediately, his eyes went wide and he waved his hands in front of his face wildly.
“T-That’s nothing…”
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“W-Well… K-Kacchan is j-just… He’s got a st-trong quirk and it-it’s hard to c-control somet-times, is a-all.”
“Is he your age?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Well, then he should be able to control his quirk, at least enough to not hurt anybody else. If he can’t, he should talk to a quirk counselor and take lessons on quirk control.”
“…”
Izuku didn’t know what to answer to that. Kacchan had great control over his quirk, actually. And he’s worked really hard for that, too! He practiced a lot! He expertly ignored the little voice in the back of his head that told him that he practiced on Izuku a lot and that this was very wrong and very much illegal. But how could he say something like that to the pro hero in front of him? He would ruin Kacchan’s chances on getting into UA! He couldn’t do that!
Eraserhead sighed.
“Look, I know the quirkless statistics. You’re very likely bullied und physically harmed, probably also suicide baited. And most likely, no-one ever cared about it, but I’m not no-one. I won’t – can’t – let this just slide like that. But…”He held up his hand to stop the green-haired boy from interrupting, “… only when you’re ready. Right now I just want to make sure you’re safe and get you down from this building and checked over. Is this alright with you?”
Tears welled in Izuku’s eyes.
He cares. Eraserhead really cares. He came here to help me and he wants to help me further…
And half a second later the pro hero found himself tackled by a small, scrawny teenager who slung his arms around the man’s waste in a desperate hug and buried his face in his capture weapon covering his chest. Fat, hot tears streamed over Izuku’s face and soaked in Eraserhead’s jumpsuit. He probably also smeared snot all over the costume, but the boy couldn’t care less about it while he tried to take in shaky breaths between full-body sobs. A large, calloused hand buried in his curls and another hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. Eraserhead lowly whispered words without much meaning right over his ear and shushed him gently, even when he had to cough violently in between.
Admittedly, Shouta Aizawa was not a very touchy person (besides his husband, but Zashi was the exception for everything) and he usually handed crying students over to another teacher because he felt in way over his head, but in this situation, there was nobody else there who could help this child who seemed to let out years of pent up hurt and sadness. So Shouta would be there for him and hold him through it all.
After a while, the crying and coughing subsided and Eraser let go of the green-haired kid. Izuku wiped away the tears and snot from his face with a tissue and took some steadying breaths.
“Sorry”, he mumbled.
“No problem, kiddo. Looks like you needed that.”
“I g-guess I did…”
There was a slightly awkward pause, before the pro hero spoke up again:
“Are you ready to leave the roof?”
“Y-Yeah… But I-I don’t th-think th-the door is o-o-open.”
“Well, I won’t let that stop us”, the black-haired man smirked and he felt relieved to see a little spark of interest shine in the teens red-rimmed viridian eyes. And true to his words, he had picked the lock to the staircase in a few seconds, before he lead the teen down the stairs and out onto the street. There parked their car already, Hizashi leaning on the driver’s door and nervously fiddling with his orange-tinted glasses in his fingers. When he heard their steps, he looked up and a wide smile spread over his face.
“Hey little listener!”, he greeted cheerfully, hiding his worry behind a sunny attitude. “It’s great to see you! It was so interesting to talk to you, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person!”
Izuku stared at him as if he was some kind of alien or as if he was speaking a completely different language. His mind was slow and hazy and he was emotionally drained after his crying fit earlier, so he really couldn’t make sense of that statement. Why would somebody want to meet him? He was just a useless Deku, so talking with him couldn’t be that interesting, right? It really made no sense. And he was just so tired and his throat hurt and he was still covered in sludge and… It was just too much today.
He felt new tears well up in his eyes. Present Mic did see them as well, so he quickly walked over to him and pulled him into a tight, warm embrace.
“It’s alright, kiddo. You don’t have to say or do anything. Just let us take care of you for a bit, alright?”
The teen nodded into the blond’s chest and his hunched shoulders slumped. He felt so safe.
Yes, I can do that, he thought, as he buried himself more into the Voice Hero’s arms.
Hizashi’s heart broke for the kid in his arms and a look he shared with his husband showed that the other man felt the same. He cautiously guided the boy to the car and slipped into the backseat with him, leaving Shouta to drive. His lime-green eyes roamed over the teen and what he saw made his stomach churn. There were scrapes and bruises all over the boy and his genkan had obviously made contact with fire recently. Moreover, he was covered with sprinkles of brownish-green sludge that reeked like a sewer.
A cold pit formed in his gut when he suddenly remembered what the police had told him earlier, when he had asked about the villain attack that blocked their road:
A child had been attacked by a villain made of sludge and All Might had saved him. And here was another child covered in some slimy substance only a few blocks away. Could this really be a coincidence?
“Hey, Izuku…”, he spoke up softly, not wanting to scare the obviously exhausted teen anymore by forcing him to remember something terrible. But he had to know if the boy needed to see a doctor. “Is it possible that you had a run-in with a villain earlier?”
The green-haired boy stared at him with wide eyes.
“H-how d-did you kn-know?”
“Well, there was this villain attack right down the block and from what I’ve been told he was completely made from sludge. And there’s a lot of slime on you, so…”
“Oh gods, I’m s-sorry!” Izuku interrupted him in panic, “I’m s-so gr-ross! And now- now y-you have sli-lime on y-your cloths a-a-and in your c-car and I’m j-just so sorry…”
“Hey, hey, hey kiddo! Relax! It’s alright, were both pros, so our costumes and even the car have seen much worse. No need to worry your curly little head over it, ya dig? I just wanted to find out if we should drive you home or rather to the hospital.”
“O-Oh.”
“So you were attacked by that villain?”, Shouta asked from the driver’s seat.
“I-I… Yeah. B-But it’s al-alright, really. A-All Might saved m-me! And h-he even signed m-my n-notebook. I r-really wasn’t un-unconscious for long…”, Izuku rambled before he slept his hands over his mouth.
“You were unconscious?”, Zashi asked incredulous, using a little bit of his quirk by accident. “What happened? Have you been seen by a medic?”
“N-No. The villain w-wanted, he wanted t-to suffoc-cate me and u-use my body a-as a meatsuit. But when I… I woke u-up and All M-Might had the v-villain captured and h-he j-jumped away and I gr-rabbed onto h-his leg and we l-landed on the roof and… and…”
“And you asked him if you could be a hero”, Shouta intercepted. “That’s why you said you already got an answer today. And his answer was…”
“H-he said no. Witho-out a quirk I-I would j-just be a liab-bility and I n-needed to be r-realistic.”
Hizashi wanted to scream. With full force, quirk and all, and preferably the number one hero would stand right in front of him. He was sure Shouta would help him hide the body. Nemuri too, after they explained the situation to her. But instead, he tried soothing the distressed child at his side:
“Oh, kiddo! He shouldn’t have said that. And it’s not true at all! A quirk is merely a tool and you can be anything even without one. You’d have to work harder than others and face more disapproval, but I’m sure if you put your heart into it, you can be a hero!”
“Y-You really th-think that?”
“Of course, little listener! You can just use your other skills, like that analysis you told me about. I’d love to see one of these notebooks you mentioned, it really sounded like you’ve got quite some skill.”
And for the third time in under an hour there were tears streaming down Izuku’s face.
“Hizashi is right”, Shouta added, “there are many factors that matter for your goal of being a hero. Dedication, motivation, the drive to help people… But having a quirk is really not one of them.”
“I-I… Thank you!”, Izuku sobbed, “Thank y-you so much! Th-That’s all I’ve ever… ever w-wanted to hear.”
“You should have heard it a long time ago, little listener”, Hizashi whispered and buried his hand in deep-green curls to lightly scrap at the boy’s scalp just like he would do with his husband when he was distressed. And just like Shouta, Izuku melted into the touch and snuggled closer to his side. His big green eyes closed and his breathing evened out after a few minutes and his whole body relaxed.
He’s so sweet!, Hizashi thought, How on earth could anybody look at this child and think it’s alright to hurt him? Or to crush his dreams and leave him on a rooftop?
His anger on All Might boiled up again, but he wrangled the emotion down. He had to concentrate on the teen first, scolding the number one hero until his ears bled could wait.
About ten minutes later their car pulled up in the teachers lot at UA. Both pros knew that they couldn’t trust most doctors in general hospitals to treat the boy right when they get to know that he’s quirkless. And due to some stupid discriminatory laws, they couldn’t even be sued properly, since it was only illegal to refuse to treat or mistreat patients due to their quirks, but the phrasing was vague enough that quirkless people could very well be excluded from that law. So, without having to talk about it, they both knew that they had to take the kid to Recovery Girl.
While Shouta concentrated on parking the car, Hizashi contemplated to wake the kid up, but then he decided against it. He would wake him up once they were in the infirmary. So he pushed his arms under the teen – and really, a boy his age shouldn’t be that light – and lifted him up and out of the car.
Shouta raised a questioning eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as they walked through the halls of UA to Recovery Girl’s office. When they entered, the Youthful Heroine and surprisingly (or not so much if you knew him) Nedzu were waiting for them.
“Put him down here on the bed, please”, the old heroine instructed. Hizashi obliged and then shook Izuku’s shoulder gently to wake him up.
“Hey there, little listener. We’re here.”
“Wher’s ‘er?”, Izuku slurred sleepily and Hizashi chuckled at the way he pawed at his eyes like a little kitten.
Sweet.
“Where at UA, in the infirmary. Recovery Girl wants to check you over, is that alright with you?”
Suddenly, the teen seemed much more awake and when his look landed on the old healer, he immediately started to mumble about her quirk and some of the events that made her famous amongst not only hero but the public too. He didn’t even stop when Recovery Girl flashed a light into his eyes, sent him on a wage and took his blood pressure, only stopping when she told him she needed to listen to his lungs.
When she was finished with her check-up, she sighed and turned so she could face the boy and the heroes:
“He’s slightly malnourished and had a few minor injuries. These are not dangerous per se, but some of them were older, which is worrying. Also, was there fire involved in the attack on you?”
“N-No…”, Izuku stammered.
“Then I don’t see how you got the burn on your shoulder.”
The teen kept his gaze on his folded hands without answering. Hizashi and his husband shared a dark look. Obviously, this child had been hurt repeatedly.
“What about the coughing?”, the blond hero asked.
“He definitely has some liquid in his lungs. Of course I can’t say anything from the outside, but from what you wrote in your message Shouta, I assume that it’s slime from that villain.”
She turned back to a cupboard and shuffled through some drawers before she padded back to the bed.
“Here, dearie, this is a special spray to remove the slime from your lungs. You have to breath it in and it will make the sludge as fluid as water. Right now it’s too thick to be removed by a pleural puncture, which will be necessary to get your lungs dry again. I will explain to you exactly what happens, don’t worry about it. But it is an operation, so we’ll have to talk to your parents beforehand. At the moment, I can only give you some antibiotics so you don’t get an infection.”
“Can you give me your parent’s number so I can call them?”, Shouta asked.
“I-It’s only m-mom and me… And she’s b-busy with work… Sh-she probably won’t p-pick up-p her ph-phone.”
Hizashi had a bad feeling about this.
“Little listener… “he asked softly, “Is it normal that you can’t reach your mom?”
The child looked up at him with big, watery emerald eyes and his soft face with the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks… crumples.
“She, she’s a g-good mom!”, he said in a pleading tone while fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. “She has to w-work so m-much to provide f-for a useless, path-thetic son li-like me. A-And her shifts j-just don’t line up w-with my schedule. I-it’s really not h-her fault!”
The sinking feeling in Hizashi’s stomach grew stronger. Of course, once he heard that the kid was quirkless, he knew that they had to ask about his family at one point. There were just too many cases of child neglect or even abuse of quirkless children through the hands of their own parents. Actually having a decent family was a rarity for the quirkless.
In situations like this, Hizashi understood why his husband hated so much about their society.
“So she’s not home often? When was the last time you saw her?”, he inquired.
“She does h-her best, really”, the greenet defended his absent mother. “And I s-saw her just l-last week, so it r-really isn’t…”
“Oh kiddo, it is. She shouldn’t leave you alone like that!”
“Do you have enough to eat?”, Recovery Girl asked solemnly, but her face was stern.
“She s-sometimes forgets t-to buy groc-ceries or leav-ve money, b-but j-just because she’s s-stressed.”
“That explains the malnourishment”, the school nurse grumbled and her eyes held the same anger like all other adults in the room. It was Shouta who spoke up next:
“Can you tell us how she treats you generally? Does she yell at you or hit you? Does she say things that hurt you?”
“She… She…”
It was obvious that the boy didn’t want to betray his mother, but he also couldn’t lie four pro heroes right in their faces. His inability to answer that question honestly was telling enough, however. Hizashi shared a look with his black-haired husband and they both knew how this would end. Izuku would not go back to his mother. They would file a report of child abuse and neglect on her behalf. However, they both knew how quirkless children were treated in the foster system and it was bad. Good thing they both had an emergency foster license…
“How is your school?”, Nedzu suddenly piped up. “You have some injuries that have to have happened during school hours. What actions have your teachers taken to punish the culprits?”
The kid just shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible.
“I couldn’t hear that.”
“They did no-nothing. Nobody c-cares. I-I’m just a q-quirkless w-waste-of-space, s-so it’s n-normal t-to be treated l-like that.”
“To be bullied, you mean?”
Izuku nodded slowly, his teary eyes fixed on his fiddling hands.
“Where you ever suicide baited?”, the mammal asked and Hizashi sucked in a deep breath.
Oh please, spare this child at least from that…
Izuku opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t speak. He slapped a hand over his mouth and curled in on himself, shoulders shaking with his heavy sobs. Immediately, Hizashi sat down on his bedside and rubbed a soothing hand over his back like he did back in the car.
“Shh, little listener, it’s alright. You’re safe now. It’s gonna be fine.”
The child latched onto him and buried his face in the crock of Hizashi’s neck. The Voice Hero startled a little, but after a second he closed his arms around the much to small body and pulled him close, rocking him softly and shushing him. After a few minutes, Izuku was composed enough to pull back and speak thorough his hiccups:
“He’d never before… I-It’s usually only th-the others. T-they leave r-red spider l-lillys on my d-desk or say I-I should k-k…” His voice broke, but he swallowed and carried on: “…kill myself. That it w-would be better f-for everybody. I… I h-had one t-teacher who t-told me th-the same. That I sh-should do the right th-thing and... But it was n-never h-him before.”
Hizashi’s throat burned with the scream that wanted to escape him, but he kept it back. When he thought that he was angry before, now he was absolutely livid and the red eyes and floating hair of his husband and Nedzu’s bared teeth and his raised hackles showed that he wasn’t the only one. A teacher! A teacher had told a child to kill himself! Even more, that it would be the right thing to do! Oh, this school was burning, of that he would make sure. Nedzu would have a field day with it.
“Never who before?”, the principal questioned, his murdering rage only barely audible in his tone.
“K-Kacchan”, Izuku’s voice was only a whisper, but the pros could still hear how much it pained him. “We’re… We were f-friends, before h-his quirk c-came in and mine… d-didn’t.”
“What did he say?”
“He… He said he had a-an adv-vice for me, i-if I really w-wanted t-to be a hero. T-Then I sh-should, I should t-take a s-swan dive off t-the roof and p-pray for a q-quirk in my next l-life.”
Hizashi had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, and then a couple more to really get his voice back under control, before he finally spoke:
“Little listener, none of this should ever have happened to you. No matter if you have a quirk or not, you’re still human and deserve to be treated like one. All the people who hurt you, your classmates or teachers or your mother and even that Kacchan..” He couldn’t help but spit the name like it tasted foul on his tongue. “…they were all wrong. And if you’ll let us, we’ll make sure that they never hurt you again. You have my word on that. We’ll do everything we can to keep you save and help you get better, okay? And if you really want to be a hero, then we’ll help you become the best hero ever.”
Izuku stared at him with wide eyes, as if he saw the biggest miracle in the world.
“You… You’d really d-do that? F-For me?”
“Of course, little listener!”, Hizashi said with a big smile on his face. “We’d love to!”
Slowly, the green-haired boy stared at every single one of them, taking in Hizashi’s smile, Shouta’s soft look and encouraging nod, Nedzu’s own smile and a little twitch of his hear and Recovery Girl’s determined face. A new wave of tears welled in his eyes and then Hizashi saw the most beautiful thing all day: a small, watery smile on Izuku’s face.
“Th-Thank you!”
Epilogue: seven months later
“Who do you think it will be?”
Shouta sighed deeply. It was the fourth time in the last half hour alone that his husband asked that very same question in such an excited voice and no matter how much he might love his loud-mouth cockatoo, right now he really got on his nerves. Still, he answered:
“It’s illogical to guess when we’ll find out in a few minutes. After all, that’s what this meeting is about.”
“I know, I know”, Zashi answered with a dismissive handwave, “but I’m still curious. We haven’t gotten any new teachers in the last few years and I’m so excited to meet them! What do you think, is it a limelighter or an underground?”
“Zashi!”, Shouta groaned and buried his face in his arms on the table, earning him a laugh from the blond an amused snort from Nemuri on his other side.
“Ah, Aizawa, I’d appreciate it if you could stay awake”, Nedzu’s chipper voice came from the front of the tables. “I’m sure you’ll have something to say to our new staff member. I must admit, I can’t wait to see it.”
Shouta lifted his head just enough to lift a questioning eyebrow at his boss. There was a glint in the mammal’s eyes that he knew all too well: sadistic glee. Whoever the new teacher was, they already did something to upset Nedzu.
Poor fool.
Their live was about to become hell and they most likely didn’t even now it.
And obviously, he himself had a reason to dislike whatever hero they were talking about and Nedzu was ready to step back and leave it to him. Which meant that this was something personal for Shouta. And the most likely reason for that was Izuku, their sweet, innocent, hurt foster son who’s still struggling with his past but slowly getting better through therapy and a lot of love from him and Hizashi. Following this train of thought further, there was actually only one hero in question.
But before Shouta could verify his conclusion, the door opened and a skeleton walked in. Of course, it was not a real skeleton, but the lanky, blond man was as close to one as one could be as long as one was still alive. He had a pleasant smile on his face and his sunken light-blue eyes sparkled as he gave a little wave.
“Hello everyone! I’m Toshinori Yagi and I’ll be joining your team in this new school year”, he greeted.
“Yagi, please come in.” Nedzu gestured for him to sit on a free chair, which he did.
“Thank you, Nedzu. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. And before I start to present myself I’d like to make clear that what I’m about to tell you is a government secret and you can’t, under any circumstances, speak about it with people not currently present.”
A murmur went around the table as the pro’s all wondered who their mysterious new colleague was and what kind of secret he may have. Shouta, however, leaned back in his chair, ignoring all the questions his husband fired at him.
“Oh?”, he asked and immediately everyone fell silent. “A government secret, yeah? And because it’s such a huge secret you told it to a 14-year-old child right after he was attacked by a villain? Is that how you intend to keep your secret, All Might?”
The newcomer sputtered and coughed blood in a handkerchief, all the while trying to stammer excuses, denials and questions all in one.
Shouta shot a look at Nedzu, who sipped his tea with a maniacal grin spanning over his fury face, showing way to much teeth to be comfortable. But hey, Nedzu was very protective of his green-haired personal student, so who could blame him.
Shouta surely didn’t, on the contrary.
He fixed a disturbing grin on his own face and activated his quirk just for the dramatic effect when he turned back to Yagi.
“I think, before I’ll let you teach a single one of my students, we’ll have a lengthy talk about what you did to my son. Understood?”
In the back of his mind, he noticed that there must be more to the story. That Nedzu wouldn’t have hired that man without a very good reason. Also, Shouta would have to check in with Izuku, see how he felt about All Might being his teacher and make him talk about it with Hound Dog, who was his therapist for the last few months. The kid had been better since he was away from his mother and living with Hizashi and him. The investigation and consequential meticulous destruction of Aldera Junior High lead by a cackling Nedzu and the punishment of Katsuki Bakugou had also helped him a great deal to at least realize how wrong all the stupid shit was he had been put through. The last thing his son (foster son at the moment, but it was only a matter of time until that changed) was a big, blond buffoon bringing up bad memories in every heroics class. And Shouta knew that Izuku would be in the hero course no matter how his entrance exam went; one of the advantages of being Nedzu’s personal student. But all of this could be handled later, right now, he just enjoyed the look of pure panic on the number one hero’s face.
He felt his grin stretch even wider and Hizashi’s and Nemuri’s anger radiating off of them at both his sides like an own entity in the room.
Yes, he had been right earlier: Poor fool.
All Might had no idea what was waiting for him.