When Izuku Midoriya was told he would be quirkless for his whole life . . . It crushed him.
Not even his mother would just tell him what he needed to hear.
He didn't need a quirk to be a hero, to help people.
That's all he wanted to do, couldn't they see that? He didn't want fame, he didn't want people to know him, nor did he want wealth-he just wanted to save people. He wanted to be there when people needed him, he wanted to put on a brave smile that told everyone; everything is going to be just fine.
But . . . No on would give him that smile. No one would look at him and tell him it would be fine.
No they all just look at him with pity or disgust, maybe both.
His so-called "best friend" left him like he was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his tiny shoe, just because he wouldn't get a power.
Izuku couldn't wrap his mind around it, why couldn't he help too? There were plenty of heroes who's quirks weren't typically suited for battle-they made it just fine by finding ways to use it . . . Eraserhead had always been a favorite of Izuku, however underground the hero was.
But they did have a quirk.
But-
They aren't a worthless Deku.
Neither am I-
Yes you are, Kacchan said as much.
No-
Yes.
No-
Yes-
NO!
No he wouldn't just take this laying down.
They wanted to doubt him? They wanted to try and keep him from helping people?
Fine.
He just had to prove them all wrong. Even his own mother.
He got that it was dangerous, however it was like that for everyone. The whole point of being a hero is for someone who can step up and protect, to do so for those who can't. And he could protect, he just needed the skills. He would just have to train even more than those with quirks.
So, he started his notebooks.
Even at the age of four, he had always been advanced compared to those around him. Kacchan had always been the closest to him-intellect wise-but even the explosive boy couldn't touch him when it came to prowess of the mind.
The young boy spent hours pouring over hero videos, news casts, and anything else he could get his chubby little hands on. He would write and write and write until the information was burned into his head, messy handwriting aside.
As the years past, and Izuku got a little older, his handwriting getting better along with his spelling, he re-wrote his original notebooks.
Along with other things . . .
Kacchan was the one to give him the idea-what with the blonde quite literally exploding at him everyday.
An eight-year-old Izuku padded up to his mother, big green eyes sparking with determination and fire to prove himself. "Mommy?" He asked, round cheeks blown wide as he frowned and twisted his hands in the bottom of his shirt.
"Yes, Dear?" His mother knelt in front of him, her round face pulled into a look of confusion at why her ray-of-sunshine was frowning.
"Can I take self-defense lessons? Some of the other kids have been trying to pick on me, and I think it might help. I won't ever use it unless in self-defense or helping someone!" The tiny, green haired boy asked with convection. His mother seemed stunned, blinking wide green eyes that were twin to the emeralds shining from Izuku.
The woman, couldn't speak for a few minutes. "Darling-" She cut herself off. "I would love for you to take self-defense classes, but-" Inko sighed and looked at her son with sad eyes. "they are really expensive."
Izuku didn't cry, he just nodded with a thoughtful look on his freckled face. "Well, I guess that makes sense." He pondered, mind going a-million-miles-an-hour. "Okay, Mommy, I'll figure it out."
And "figure it out" he did.
Izuku figured if he could use videos to help him analyze, why couldn't they help him with other things?
He started watching videos for beginners, saving them to a file to watch again later. He didn't try any of the moves they were telling him about yet, no he wanted to watch a few first. After spending quite awhile just watching video after video, he went back and tried a few.
They weren't martial arts, per say, but just tactics of how to throw off someone's balance and get out of different holds. It was hard at first, for a young child and one who was one his own without help, but it was the best he could do for now.
Izuku knew he couldn't do much on the physical front until he was older, therefore he spent a majority of the time on his mind. Not just analyzing, either, doing his school work and even working further ahead in their books.
By the time he was two years away from middle school, fifth grade, Izuku came up with a plan. That's how he started walking his neighbors' dogs, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, and even saying he'd clean their houses if they gave him a few bucks.
He listened to lectures as he walked dogs, did homework while baby-sitting, analyzed during his shifts of pet-sitting, using the cleaning of others' houses as a way to earn just a little more money.
Everyone on the block knew about the green haired boy willing to do any odd job with a bright smile and kind disposition.
His mother knew he was doing it, but thought nothing of it. Any kid would want to buy things with their own money, her son just had the drive to do something about it. Then why did she never see him spend it?
The day after he finished school, only a small break separating him from middle school, Izuku asked his mom to come to his room.
"What it is, Sweetie?" She asked, pink sweater pulled down over her palms as she sat down on her son's All Might themed bed.
Without saying a word, strange for the chatterbox Izuku was, he pulled out a box from the bottom drawer of his dresser. Inside the box, were glass jars full of paper yen and even a few with coins.
"H-how?" Inko muttered in shock.
"I saved up." Izuku explained. "I want to take self defense lessons, so I saved up. And I will keep working to pay them off for however long I can take them." He smiled, white teeth on full display. "I can help Mommy." Those four words meant more than Inko could ever guess.
The next Monday, Izuku was in his first class. His mom had let him do it himself, and he came back to her car saying he was taking karate, a huge smile taking up his face.
With the lessons Izuku started to work out too, he knew he couldn't only do the lessons and get anywhere useful. That's why he took to a work-out routine every morning including jogging every morning, the safest time to be out on his own, and even got a few hand-held strength trainers. He stop having his mom pick him up, choosing to run too and from school. Not jogging, seeing as he had already jogged for the day, but a dead sprint to help build up speed and endurance.
All this going on does not mean he let up on anything else, though. The boy was always doing something, even if he somehow had a moment to himself-he was thinking about what he had to do next. He did push-ups while reading a text book, a kid sitting on his back as they giggled away and played with his hair. Dogs or cats would slink around his ankles as he did different yoga poses while the news played in the background.
Kacchan had never left him alone, not in the slightest, however Izuku had made it fairly hard for the angry blonde to hurt him or anyone else. Oh, how that got under his skin . . .
Whenever school started back up after breaks Izuku had to cut back on his various jobs. They all understood and never gave him any trouble for it. After all, who would yell at the boy who was doing the things you didn't want to do for a lot cheaper than anyone who you could really hire for the job?
At this point Izuku had filled upwards of fifteen notebooks, all thinking through different quirks-the pros and cons behind everything. What weaknesses they could have, how to avoid them the best, how to disable them, everything.
God help them if he hadn't wanted to be a hero . . .
Kacchan got even more violent after beaks, it seemed. However, this time, he was met by a 'Deku' who knew just how to disable him, how to twist his wrist to nearly breaking before shoving him away before slipping right back into his fighting stance.
"Grow up, Kacchan." Izuku would say, dusting off his pants before helping up whoever it was that Kacchan had decide to take out his anger issues on that day.
It didn't hold Katsuki back for long, but every time when he came back Izuku was even more ready than the time before.
In his second year of middle school, Izuku was training in his dojo when his sensei came up to him. Her golden sash set her apart from the others, even the other trainers. It showed she was the head of the dojo, the master.
His sensei was a tall woman, short black hair cut pixie-style, tanned skin from the sun, and dark chocolate eyes. Her quirk was suited for the work she did, how ever simple faster reflexes happened to be. If Izuku was to describe her in words . . . intense and cunning were two he would use.
Asuga Takahashi.
She was the one to give him the idea of adding yoga to his early morning routine. And thank god she did, because it helped a lot.
"Izu-kun." Asuga said, pulling the boy from his concentration. Her black uniform was pristine as always, her ever-present smirk still in place.
"Yes, Taka-Sensei?" Izuku asked, rolling his ankle to give it a break. She had told all the students to call her that, and it had taken Izuku months to be able to.
Asuga grinned down at the short boy. "I just wanted to ask how you were doing." She did that a lot, asking her pupils if they were okay, how things were going, if they needed any help. It always brought a smile to Izuku's face, freckled cheeks pulled back and green eyes sparkling with deep adoration.
"I'm fine, Taka-Sensei." And he truly was, Izuku was pushing himself a lot, but it made him happy. "School has finally picked up, and Kacchan seems to be cooling his heels for a bit. Mom is . . . Well she's Mom." This earned him a booming laugh from his teacher, he smiled up at her.
"Well then, I'm glad. Can't have my star pupil in trouble now can I?" That made Izuku go bright red, always had, always would. And that was only part of the reason Asuga kept saying it. The other part was because it was true. The kid put his whole heart into everything he did, and it really did show. "Now, I was wondering if you'd consider a proposition from me?"
"Depends." Izuku teased with a bashful smile. "What is it?"
Asuga beamed brightly, crossing her arms over her chest and bracing her feet apart. "I want to train you in weapons." This shocked Izuku to say the least, at least in this dojo you weren't allowed to train with weapons until you were sixteen. He was thirteen. "I know you, Izu-kun, and I know you want to be a hero."
Izuku started to sputter some excuse, something to help him out of this-
"I also know," His sensei cut him off with a raise of her hand. "that you told your mom you signed up for karate, when in fact you have been training with me in kung fu for over two years now." It was true. His mom hadn't wanted him to do anything too dramatic, barely agreeing to karate. Izuku had wanted to do kung fu though, and nothing was going to stop him from what he wanted.
"Sensei-"
"I get it, Izu-kun." Asuga motioned for the boy to sit on the bench off to the side, crouching down in front of him. She was very tall, so even if she had sat down beside him she would have had to look down at him and she didn't want to do that. "Izuku, you have a drive like I've never seen. You want to be a hero, and nothing is going to stop you, that's amazing. Quirkless or not, you are my start pupil and always will be."
Izuku tried to fight back his tears, his fear of being scolded showing in how his hands shook. The positive words help smooth out some of his worry, but not nearly enough.
"There is nothing anyone can ever say to get you to give up, and that just proves my point." She ruffled his green curls and sighed fondly. "Though, being a hero is dangerous, and so very hard." Izuku looked like he was about to protest that he knew that, but Asuga raised an eyebrow and silenced him. "That's why I want to train you personally, no more classes with everyone else. You've been holding back, and they are nowhere near able to keep up with you. So, I am offering you a position as my personal pupil."
She grinned and kept going. "You will learn everything I can teach you, and that includes weapons. It will be the hardest thing you've ever done, and I will most likely beat the shit out of you plenty of times-however, I assure you it will help you."
Asuga was a kung fu master, a young one too at only thirty-five. Her mom had taught her, being from China directly and from a long line of proud fighters, her dad was from Japan and that's how she came to be raised here. She had told Izuku plenty of stories of her mother, the woman was still alive and kicking ass in her own way, and his sensei never failed to mention her if anyone ever complemented her skills.
"Se-sensei . . . " Izuku was speechless. No one had ever told him he could be a hero, not even his mother after she found out he was quirkless. "You . . . y-you r-re-really th-think . . ?" He didn't even notice the tears running down his freckled cheeks.
"Of course, Izu." Asuga wiped away one trail of tears. then the other, smiling as she stood up but stayed bent over to look him in the eyes. "You can do anything. You will be a hero, and you'll be the best goddamned hero the world has ever seen."
Oh, how much those words healed his broken soul.