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Chapter 3: Chapter # 3 | The Quirkless Burden
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku's eyes snapped open. His hand shooting out to grasp around on his sideboard for his sidearm. His breathing harsh and erratic, sweat rolling down his back as he tries to calm himself. Trying desperately to focus on where he was.
In Japan, he panted. I'm back in Japan. No one is hurt. No one is dying. No one is dead again. Slowly Izuku got his breathing under control, his heart rate back to an acceptable level. Nausea rolling in his stomach fading away. Releasing his shirt where it was bunched under his clenched right hand, Izuku brought both his hands to his face, rubbing from the root of his nose to his eyes. Sighing, Izuku looked over to his clock, noting the time.
Well, technically I shouldn't be getting up for my first day back for another two hours. There is no point in wasting the time though. No way I'm getting back to sleep after that. Turning to his wardrobe, he picked out a pair of shorts that still fit and kept his tank top on him. It's already soaked through with sweat. Might as well use it for my morning routine.
Slipping from his room and into the living area, Izuku took a moment to begin stretching and to take in the details around the apartment that he had failed to notice the day before in his nostalgia. While he had only been gone from this home, this world, for a year here, there were still differences. The photos of his father were notably absent. Not that it bothered him much he hadn't known the man very well. Leaving as early in Izuku's life as Hizashi tended to stunt the growth of memories. Last he had heard, his father had been working somewhere outside of Japan.
Rolling his shoulder, Izuku slipped out the front door and started with a light jog down the road. When he was about halfway to his destination, he picked up his pace into a dead sprint. It wasn't long before he reached the old beach. Izuku breathed deeply, placing his hands on the back of his head.
I am nowhere near where I want to be, clearly. I used to be able to sprint several miles without issue. Now I can barely run a mile and a half without feeling like my body is giving up on me.
Looking up from where Izuku leaned against the beach walkway railing, Izuku stared out in disbelief at the now mountainous piles of trash that covered Dagobah Beach. The last time he had been here was only a year and some change before.
How the hell did it get like this?! The trash problem was bad before, but did no one bother to fix it? It's the city's property, so, alright, it might not be the biggest priority. But good gods, I can't even see the horizon, and the beach is a good eight to ten feet down at the very least from the walkway. The trash is piled at least twenty or so feet above even that. How the HELL did the beach get covered in trash at least thirty feet deep and no one, especially a hero, took note of this. Izuku leaned back from the railing and looked further down the beach, shaking his head.
While absolutely insane and would have to have something done about it, that was an issue for another time and place. He'd deal with it himself, he resolved, but not now. From what Izuku could see, the sun was beginning to crest the horizon. Not that he would see it as he wanted because of a mountain of refuse.
If this is any indication of how this day is going to go, then it is going to be a long day… I just jinxed it, didn't I. Sighing, Izuku started heading back to his apartment building once again at a dead sprint, hoping that he hadn't.
…
Stepping back into his home, the first thing that Izuku heard was soft crying. Stepping quickly in, muscles tensing and adrenaline pumping, ready to fight at any moment, Izuku came face to face with one crying Midoriya Inko sitting on the couch.
"Mom?" Izuku stepped quickly to his mother, surveying the room for any sign of a threat. "Mom, what's wrong?" He set his hand on her shoulder gently, her eyes snapping up to meet his.
"Izuku?! Oh, thank god. I thought it was all just a dream. I thought it was all a dream and you were back in that hospitalbedandyouweren'tbackhereathomean-" she cut off as her words became too quick and her sobbing started back up again. Izuku paled, realizing what had happened and cursing himself for not saying something, for not even leaving a note that he was stepping out.
"Shh. Shhh, it's alright, it's fine. I'm right here, mom. I won't be going anywhere again. I'm sorry I didn't think before I stepped out for a run. I'm sorry. Shhh." Izuku's breath hitched slightly as he tried to calm his mother. There had never been a threat other than the looming threat that was implications. The implications of him disappearing. Of not being there for his mother. Of what she had thought when she had awoken to find his bed empty and his room devoid of life.
…
It took some time before either Midoriya had calmed down enough that Izuku was able to step away from his mother and shower off his exercise. Once he had done so, brushed his teeth and pulled his hair back into a small ponytail as it had gotten rather long in his year-long hospital visit. Izuku put on his uniform slacks and shirt. Tucking his dress shirt in and slipping his jacket on, Izuku stepped out and walked into the dining room where his mother waited with breakfast. Her eyes were still rimmed in red from where she had been crying, but she was smiling again. He needed to keep her that way. She deserved that from him. They ate their breakfast in relative silence before stepping out the door, wishing each other a good day and parting to head to their respective destinations.
…
Izuku had been wrong. Oh so wrong. He had grown too used to schools without quirks. Schools that were regimented with the authority of a military command that had the respect of their men. Aldera Junior High made a military academy, where each individual was armed, seem like a friendly, welcoming place to vacation. If the Osmian academy judged your worth on your actions, then Aldera judged your worth on how likely your quirk was to make you a hero. If you had a flashy, strong quirk, such as one resident pyromaniac sociopath, then you were the top of the totem pole. If you had a quirk that the faculty didn't judge highly, such as your hair changing colors at will, then you weren't exactly the VIP of the class, but at least you were treated as a human being. If only a lesser one. Finally, if you were quirkless or had what society might perceive as 'villainous' for your quirk. Well, some things make even hell seem friendly.
The moment Izuku stepped through the doors of the junior high, he could tell he wasn't welcome here. Students would look at him and quickly look away, blocking out his mere existence as if it were a blot on their nice, comfortable lives. Others would stare at him with unhidden disgust, whispering to their fellow student about him. Others still would look and try their best to not catch his attention. The few souls that might have given him the time of day, the few who might have been friendly, were they of course not worried about the consequences of being associated with him. Izuku stepped into his classroom just before the bell rang and caught the attention of the school's chief bully and general pain in his ass, Bakugo Katsuki. The look in his eyes as he looked at Midoriya, and the feral grin that sprouted to his lips, was enough to tell Izuku that he would be as much of a problem as he used to be.
Well, there went the hope that perhaps the coma had made him have an epiphany regarding his behavior. Before he could step further into the classroom, his teacher caught his attention.
"Ahem. Mr. Midoriya. I do have to apologize." The teacher smirked at him and let just the slightest bit of condescension slip into his tone. "You have to understand that we didn't expect to see you back here so soon considering your. Ahem. Circumstances. As such, we gave your desk to another student that had transferred in. As it is, you'll have to sit in the back on the floor. I'm sure you'll be able to handle that until we can get you properly sorted."
Izuku nodded his head and started to make his way to the back of the class. Good to see the teachers are as terrible as ever as well. The more things change… Izuku let his thoughts trail off before taking a seat, leaning against some shelves at the back of the class with a clear line of sight down the aisle to the board. Initially, he pulled the notebook he had brought with him out of his bag to take notes. Very quickly, however, Izuku realized that it was completely pointless to take notes, as he could do this kind of work while being asleep. In fact, he had actually completed, correctly he might add, far more complex problems than what were being given to the students while being practically asleep. The students kept glancing back at Izuku. A variety of emotions were evident on their faces. Confusion as to his lack of note-taking, disbelief that he had come back after what he had been through, more disgust. That one wasn't terribly strange, as it was always there, but it was still annoying how little he had done to deserve the treatment that he was receiving. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, sighing. A long day indeed.
"Midoriya, if you aren't even going to attempt to pay attention to the work then there is no point to you even being here. I realize you likely need to catch up, but at least pay attention." Without even opening his eyes, Midoriya responded
"Because f is odd, f(x)= −f(−x). For x < 0, −x > 0 and f(−x) = 3 sin(−x)+4 cos(−x) = −3 sinx+4 cosx by definition. Hence, for x < 0, f(x)= −(−3 sinx+4 cosx) = 3 sinx−4 cosx. Is that sufficient as an answer for you?" Izuku opened his eyes and looked his teacher dead in the eyes. "That being said, you're going to struggle yourself with getting the right answer, as you graphed the original equation incorrectly."
Sputtering, the teacher looked from Izuku to the board, to the problem, and back again. "That is correct. Thank you for your answer, Midoriya." Leaning his head back once more, Izuku listened to the whispers this exchange had created. All he could do was shake his head and continue to listen to the lesson that held no real value for him. That teacher didn't call on him again for the rest of the period.
…
The bell for lunch finally rang, granting Izuku at least a momentary reprieve from the mind-numbing lessons. Stepping into the restroom, Midoriya leaned down, dipping his hands in the sink and splashing his face. Leaning there against the sink, he rubbed his eyes.
"Well well. Look here, the useless nerd makes his return. What, didn't learn your place a year ago? Bakugo rumbled from behind him, hands crackling like an impending thunderstorm.
Oh good, now I have to deal with this jackass. How did I manage this before? Deal with everyone acting as if others were less than human? I just got done fighting against one group that thought this way. And is that pride I hear in his voice? Is he proud that he was in some way responsible for a year-long coma? That thought horrified Izuku more than any other. Did he truly think that this behavior was suitable for someone who wanted to be a hero? Taking a deep breath and trying to relax his natural instinct to the sound of explosions now, Izuku opened his eyes.
---
"OI, DEKU. DON'T YOU IGNORE ME." Bakugo roared and was reaching for him when Deku opened his eyes and stared him in the eye from the mirror. The look in those eyes froze Bakugo for a moment. He took a step back, and it was as if the very temperature in the air had dropped.
Deku turned to him and said in a voice too calm, too cold, to be the Deku he knew,"Well, Bakugo, it does seem that some things never change. You have made it abundantly clear. We are not friends, and we haven't been in a very long time. So let me give you one warning and one warning only. I am not in the mood for this. " Deku went to step past Katsuki. That single step was all it took to make something snap inside of him.
"HOW DARE YOU LOOK DOWN ON ME YOU QUIRKLESS PIECE OF SHIT." Bakugo swung his fist at Deku. Hand crackling with small explosions. The sweet caramel smell of nitroglycerin flooding the air of the relatively small restroom. He was going to show this worthless piece of shit where he belonged. He wouldn't get away with speaking to him like that. If a year didn't show him where he belonged, he would have to make it another.
---
Izuku took a step forward as if to leave the restroom when Bakugo screeched and swung at him. His lips pressed into a thin line as he raised his left arm, pushing Bakugo's right hook off course before grabbing his wrist in his right. Grabbing his shoulder at his rotator muscle with his left hand, he used Katsuki's own momentum to wrench his arm behind his shoulder blade and push him forward and over. His shoulder made a horrific pop at the same time his face slammed down onto the bathroom counter, breaking his nose. By this point, his mouth had twisted into a snarl.
"Is this what you wanted Katsuki? Did you want to prove yourself better than the cripple in your head? What sick, twisted logic did you have to use to get yourself to this point? That someone worthless in your mind somehow has so much power over you." Izuku growled it at Bakugo before letting him go with a shove. Sighing, Izuku shook his head and turned to leave the restroom, this time unimpeded. Just before exiting, he stopped at the door. Looking over his shoulder at Katsuki still bleeding on the floor, he stared into Bakugo with eyes entirely too old, too experienced, and too sad to be the eyes of a fourteen-year-old. Izuku whispered one last thing before leaving Katsuki bleeding on the floor.
"Well, Kachan, you succeeded in one thing. The Midoriya Izuku you knew died in that alleyway. I certainly won't be following you any longer."
…
Midoriya sat with his bento on his lap and his back to the fence lining the roof. He had never felt welcome in the cafeteria. Too many hostile eyes staring at him from all angles. But up here, there was something peaceful about it. It was quiet, and the wind slowly ruffled his hair, providing him a companionship that he hadn't had for a long time at this school. Just as he finished his mother's cooking that she had prepared for him, and never again would he ever take it for granted, the intercom crackled, requesting his presence in the principal's office. Of course it was.
Well, if this was how it was going to go down, then let's dance.
…
There were a lot of things that Midoriya expected when he walked into the principal's office. What he hadn't expected to see was Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugo sitting with their son, who , to some small bit of satisfaction for Izuku, was sitting there with his arm in a sling, paper towels stuffed up his nose, and a nice dark bruise blooming to life on his cheekbone. Katsuki and Mitsuki were giving him an absolutely venomous look, while poor Masaru simply looked confused by the whole situation. His own mother was sitting pale-faced across from them, staring at what Izuku had done to Katsuki.
"Good, now that Mr. Midoriya is here, we can talk about how we are going to proceed with his expulsion." The principal was the first to speak after Izuku had walked into the room. He was a short, fat man, by either genetics or his own personal inaction. Izuku wasn't sure which it was, but in the end it didn't particularly matter. When he spoke of expulsion, Katsuki gained a smug smirk on his face, which his own mother mirrored. It was only Inko that started sputtering, assuring the principal that there had to be some misunderstanding and that Izuku wouldn't do something like this. Before the principal could respond, Mitsuki cut in.
"Are you calling my son a liar, Inko?! Because he certainly didn't do this to himself." The principal cut back in with a smirk.
"Yes, indeed. Which is why I will be expelling Mr. Midoriya effective immediately. We obviously can't keep someone clearly so violent in this school where he could hurt someone again. Besides that, we also couldn't do something that would make our star pupil so uncomfortable. After all, what would he think if his attacker was still walking the halls?" Before any one of them could speak another word, before Inko could defend her son, even before Mitsuki could agree, Izuku spoke. And when he spoke, each person in the room stilled. Katsuki's eyes blew wide when he heard the tone. It was a tone that he had never heard from Deku's mouth before and a tone he never wanted to hear again. In an absolutely sickly sweet tone laced with the most concentrated acid, Izuku spoke confidently only a few words.
"Oh no, Mr. Principal , I don't think you'll be taking that course of action at all." The principal swallowed before responding. Izuku's presence filled the room, demanding their attention.
"And why would that be young man?" Izuku smiled, and when he did, the principal was sure in that moment that the smile would haunt his dreams.
"Well sir, you see." Izuku shrugged out of his uniform jacket. "I do wonder what would happen to the school if you were to choose that course of action. After all, which do you think will catch more media time? The headline, 'Quirkless student beats up star pupil,' or 'After years of abuse, Quirkless boy finally snaps. Fights back against Tormentor.'" The principal stopped seeing this young boy as a boy at all.
"Are you trying to blackmail us, son? The media would never believe you, and even if they did, they wouldn't give a quirkless nothing like you the time of day." The principal sat forward, staring Izuku in the eyes, but froze when his smile widened further, becoming very cold. The hint of acid that had been there before suddenly became readily apparent.
"Finally showing your true colors, are you? But blackmail? No no, you misunderstand. I'm not blackmailing you at all. I'm simply informing you of what will happen if you choose to go through with expelling me. Not that I plan on sticking around anyway, as I will be withdrawing from your oh so fine institution following this conversation regardless of the decision you make." Izuku very carefully began unbuttoning his dress shirt starting with his wrist cuffs. "You see, sir. The media may not give a quirkless nobody the time of day, you are correct. But given evidence and a police investigation into not only a school but their star pupil, I'm quite sure that it would then be a story well worth airing all over the country and I do wonder what would become of a school so thoroughly disgraced."
"What do you mean police investigation, young man?" The principal looked mildly shaken at the statement. The media was one thing. They could fend off the media well enough, but if the police were involved, public record wasn't quite as easy to deal with.
"Oh, that's quite simple really." Izuku allowed his dress shirt to drop away, the smile still blazing away on his face. Initially, everyone in the room had watched the shirt as it dropped to the ground. But then their eyes were drawn back up to Izuku's arms, chest, and back. There, across what should have been fairly immaculate fourteen-year-old skin, lay a network of starburst scar tissue. His right shoulder was almost completely scarred. But what was very obvious was the handprint that had been seared like a brand into his shoulder. "I do think the police will want to find out about this, don't you think? Besides that, you seem to be under the impression that when the police come here to investigate that they won't find the blood spattered across the hallways. The claw marks on the inside of dark closet doors from students trying to escape. That they won't find all of the misery and abuse that YOU, my dear principal, have allowed to fester here." Izuku's voice had dropped in pitch into practically a growl. "Let me assure you, principal, just in case you thought you had hidden and cleaned it up. Bleach won't stop them from finding the blood."
By this point, the blood had entirely drained from Mitsuki's face. She barely managed to choke out her words as Izuku calmly picked his shirt up and began pulling it back on.
"What have you done, Katsuki? What the hell have you done?" Her voice was barely a horrified whisper.
"It doesn't matter, you old hag. He deserved it. Who cares anyway? He's a useless, quirkless piece of sh-" Bakugo never got to finish that sentence before his father roared his name at him. His father never spoke up. Never got angry. But the look on his face now was a mixture of horror and unbridled fury.
"I see at least your parents understand the ramifications of your actions." Izuku had finished buttoning his dress shirt and simply gave the principal one last cold smile. "So. Are you going to accept my withdrawal, or are you going to expel me."
The principal said nothing as he looked to Inko, who had been silent through most of this. "Well, Mrs. Midoriya, it would be up to you whether or not to sign off on the withdrawal forms." Inko wasted no time looking the principal in the eyes. Quietly, Inko stood up and stepped forward the few steps to the principal's desk.
"If you think for even a second after hearing all of that. That my Izuku will ever be anywhere near this school again. Then you are a very stupid man." The calm rage in Inko's voice didn't scare him nearly as well as the show Izuku had just put on. But the message was received loud and clear all the same. Mitsuki, however, was very, very certain that she was scared of Inko right now. She had only seen her this angry once, and she doubted that man ever regained use of his lower extremities.
Before Izuku left the room with his mother, he stopped. Turning once again, he addressed the Bakugo family.
"I am sorry that it came to this, Auntie. I didn't want it to end on such a sour note. You and Uncle Masaru were always so kind to me." Izuku gave them a sad smile before his face hardened and he turned to the door. "And Katsuki." Bakugo grudgingly looked over to where Izuku stood in the doorway. "Take a hard look at yourself after this. Because right now? You're nothing more than a villain." With that parting comment, Izuku stepped out the door, not to be seen by Bakugo again for several years.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone