What Makes A Hero

The End

      With a growl of frustration at his continued defiance the blond, red eyed boy charged forward like a bull, his arms extended as once more explosions bubbles forth. The other's quickly followed their leader's actions and leaped forward to take part too. 

       Sometime after he had fallen to lay in a curled ball his yellow backpack, beaten up and burnt already despite having just got it at the start of the year, had been dumped out sending his supplies tumbling to scatter in the grass beside him and slide onto the sidewalk. He opened his eyes just in time to see the one item he would do near anything for Kacchan not to see come to a halt neatly at the tip of his right shoe. Like an act of fate. Considering his situation maybe that wasn't too far fetched although one had to wonder what he had done to deserve their ire.

Before he could formulate or even think he was moving, scrambling to all fours and reaching to grab hold of it. Pull it away from it's inevitable doom. Clutch it tight no matter what they did or shouted and never let go. It was his life, his future. His hand was nudged lightly to the side with one foot only for the very same foot to come barreling down to land unflinchingly on his hand. Crunch. Only Izuku flinched, Kacchan was as unreachable as he had always been.

Still smoking fingers reached down and picked the book up. Kacchan scoffed as he read aloud,  "What's this?! 'Hero analysis for my future', you don't actually think you could ever be a hero do you? My god, you really are a Deku. Let me get this through your thick skull now, you can't and will never be a hero! In fact if you want to be a hero so bad I'll tell you what, why don't you do us all a favor and take a swan dive off the roof. Maybe in your next life you'll have a quirk."

Without a second of hesitance Kacchan sent him one more disgusted look even as he pressed the previous notebook in between his hands scorching it beyond repair as it caught fire. A few pages that had been torn or ripped sometime before Kacchan got his hands on it slid out when he snapped it shut between them falling onto the walkway before drifting out of his reach forever on the open wind. (Despite his near perfect memory later it always bothered Deku that he could never remember what those pages had held)

"Here, let me help you get rid of this fire before you burn your quirkless self with it, it's not like it was ever going to be useful for anything anyway."

With that said the notebook was discarded, tossed with practiced carelessness over the other's shoulder so it landed with a splash in the previously calm fountain not far from where they were. Seemingly too disgusted with him to even be bothered to further poke at him they landed only a few more kicks to his side before they walked off talking as if nothing had even happened. Leaving the unusually small child curled, his head of wild, green hair covering his watering green eyes surrounded by his scattered belongings and broken pride. His smile remained, thin and wobbly as ever.

Yet, he rose after only giving himself a moment to gather his wits, because for the five of them nothing had happened. It was as much a ritual as greeting a friend or eating dinner although Izuku didn't have much experience with the former anymore. He pushed himself up on shaking arms and swept his supplies together as quickly as he could, gathering it together before shoving it into his bag. Only then did he hurry towards where his thoughts had remained and tried to rescue his notebook.

     It was no use.

Feeling more empty than ever he began the trek home, he stuck to the less used routes in hopes to avoid running into anyone and avoid the bustling crowds. He knew it would only leave him feeling worse. The silence would almost be considered peaceful if it did not leave him alone with his thoughts. For even against the world his own mind didn't stand behind him. He heard their voices.