Chapter 1: Rooftop

The wind was gentle and cool. It caressed the face of the green-haired child as he stood at the edge of the roof. It tried to wipe away his tears as they flowed silently down his cheeks. For the first time in years, they weren’t sad tears. They were tears of relief.

“Finally…” He smiled softly to himself. “Finally I know what to do… Arigatou, Kacchan.” Though his friend’s words earlier that day had been of anger, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. This was, after all, his own decision. His own weakness lead him here.

He’d met his hero, All Might. He’d shared his secret of weakness with him. He felt honored, but bitter. It hurt more than he was willing to admit to hear those words from his idol.

“I cannot simply say ‘You can become a hero even without power.’”

“Even you, All Might? I should’ve known.” He smiled. “I understand, now… I’ll never become a hero.” The words felt choked in his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He felt numb… empty… yet his head was clear, almost painfully so. His mind was calm, even though it should’ve been a whirlwind of emotions. “And if I can’t help people… then I’ve no reason to stay. I’m sorry, mom… I’m so sorry.” He whispered back the words she once had sobbed to him.

His shoes were placed neatly and carefully beside his backpack, a short quaint note to his mother hidden within the zipper of his bag.

He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind around him. No heroes would be nearby, he knew. Not with that commotion across town. The plume of smoke would surely draw all active nearby heroes to the other side of town. Nobody would ‘save’ him. He didn’t want anybody to.

He opened his eyes and smiled serenely at the city around him. “Life will go on. The death of a Quirkless child will affect no one.”

On the edge of his hearing, he thought he heard someone behind him, but he didn’t bother to look—if they hadn’t spoken out by now, then it was either his imagination or someone who simply didn’t care. Besides… who would stop him when he’d just admitted to being Quirkless aloud? It was probably nothing anyways.

He let go of the railing and leaned forward.

Part of him had expected fear. Regret. Doubt. Guilt… But that’s not what he felt.

Relief. Peace. Calm.

He didn’t scream. He smiled.

And so Midoriya Izuku fell.

 

He hadn’t been on-duty. Aizawa Shouta had been out running errands for his husband, Yamada Hizashi. Why the cockatoo thought he needed to be out in the sunlight was beyond him. But, as always, his luck wouldn’t allow for him to simply have a normal day off.

It started with an explosion in the distance. For a moment, he really thought about running off to see what the commotion was, but eventually decided against it. I’m an underground hero for a reason. He reminded himself. Besides… if the heroes at the scene need help, they’ll send out an SOS.

He wrapped his hand around the red phone in his pocket in case they did send out the signal, but he didn’t really expect it. With the amount of damage that blast likely caused, there was little doubt in Shouta’s mind that every hero in the area would be at the scene—they’d have plenty of backup. No need for an Underground Hero to intervene.

There was no reason for him to be there. Especially not when All Might was apparently in town. Why Nezu decided to hire the #1 Hero is beyond me. He’s a great hero, don’t get me wrong, but that doesn’t mean he’s qualified to teach children. At least he won’t start for another two years. He shook his head as he squinted against the sunlight. He knew he should’ve brought his sunglasses with him.

He was about to let Hizashi know he was on his way home, when something caught his eye. Normally, it would be missed. Anyone else would’ve overlooked it. But he’d trained himself for years to spot hard-to-see silhouettes in the shadows. Compared to that, seeing the silhouette of someone on the roof of a tall building in broad daylight wasn’t that difficult.

His mind said to leave it alone. That it was probably just someone admiring the view, or trying to get a better look at the plume of smoke on the other side of town. But his gut told him something very different, and every pro worth their salt knew to trust their gut over their head. Shouta’s gut was never wrong.

So Shouta didn’t hesitate in scaling the side of a nearby apartment complex and roof jumping from there. He used his Capture Weapon (thank god he was a paranoid bastard and took his equipment with him everywhere) to reach the roof of the building that the person was on. They hadn’t noticed his presence, which was a good thing.

What he saw turned his blood to ice. It was a child. He was standing on the wrong side of the railing, and was dangerously close to the edge. Shouta knew that stance. He knew it intimately. This kid was going to jump.

“Life will go on. The death of a Quirkless child will affect no one.” He heard him mutter in a voice far too calm and detached for Shouta’s liking.

He was about to call out—his hand already reaching towards the kid and the words on the tip of his tongue—but a sudden lump of fear and hesitation formed in his throat like a physical blockage. Was this how Hizashi felt? And in that moment of hesitation, the kid let go of the railing and fell forward. The pro-hero’s stomach dropped with the child, and before his logical mind could think, he found himself running forward.

He vaulted over the railing with a practiced ease and threw out his scarf with all his might. For a moment, his heart stopped and he feared he was too late. In his mind’s eye, he saw the child become a red stain on the pavement below them. His hand clenched the railing, turning his knuckles white. His heart pounded in his ears.

When he felt the weight on the other end of the capture weapon, he nearly cried in relief. He’d caught the kid. Shouta didn’t want to know how many grey hairs this would give him. He didn’t care. As long as that kid was safe, that’s what mattered to him.

With a mighty heave, he lifted himself and the kid back over the edge of the railing, until they were safely on the rooftop again. The kid was unconscious, and Shouta found himself trembling slightly.

It wasn’t often that a pro found themselves in this kind of situation. They were trained to look out for signs of suicidal thoughts and behaviors to prevent it from getting to this point; so most heroes had never had to stop someone mid-attempt—that was usually something the police handled, anyways; the during and the aftermath.

Shouta himself had been lucky to have never even seen someone make an attempt like this before. (He resolutely shoved the memory of his own childhood suicide attempt out of his mind).

The kid groaned, and blinked, confused. He turned his gaze towards Shouta, who’d kept his scarf securely around the boy, partially to keep him from running off again, and partially to add some kind of cushioning from the hard surface of the roof.

“E-Eraserhead?” Shouta startled. People didn’t recognize him. That was one of the perks of being an Underground Hero. Even most cops didn’t recognize him, which was nothing short of annoying when he had to whip out his Hero License several times per shift. (Yes I’m a real pro hero. No I’m not some homeless bum wasting your time. Yes I know you have to contact your higher ups. Just call Detective Tsukauchi and get this over with, I’ve got better things to do with my time.)

For now, though, Shouta would ignore that little detail. There were more important things than his identity right now. “Yeah. How’re you feeling, kid?” Shouta winced internally. Maybe not the best question to ask, but it was already done.

The boy gave a dry laugh. “Figures. I thought all the heroes would be at the commotion across town… I can’t even die right.”

“Why do you want to die?” He knew it was an insensitive question. But he also knew that the kid probably didn’t want him to beat around the bush, either.

“Why did you save me?” He countered.

“I couldn’t let a kid die.”

“You don’t even know me.” He paused before continuing in a quieter tone. “I have nothing to live for, anyways.”

“Surely there’s someone waiting for you somewhere? Friends? Family?”

“My mother is the only person who gives a damn about me, but you can’t live for just one person. Nobody cares about a Quirkless kid. I have no future in this world. My dreams…” He halted his speech as he brought his arm to rest over his eyes. The kid didn’t even bother to sit up as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Dreams?” Shouta nudged gently, startling the kid out of his thoughts.

“Meaningless, now. Even a pro said it… It’s not even a pipe dream anymore.” Shouta was deeply bothered by the bitter smile that the boy wore. Though he didn’t know the kid, it just didn’t look right on him.

“A pro? You’ll trust the word of one hero as the word of us all? That’s illogical.” He was somewhat offended.

The kid scoffed. “Is it? When the Number One himself says that there’s no way a Quirkless reject can become a hero, then one is inclined to believe him.”

“Is that your dream? To become a hero?” Shouta smiled softly, though the kid couldn’t see him. Internally, he cursed All Might. How could the man possibly be so thick?! So closed-minded? Shouta himself fought Quirkless (though he’d never really thought of it that way), and he was a pro. A great deal of his respect for the man vanished in that moment. He crushed a child’s dreams and left him alone on a rooftop to die.

“I know what you’re going to say. Laugh. Tell me it’s impossible. I already know.” His hand clenched into a fist. “But it’s all I’ve ever wanted… I just want to help people… to save them and make them feel safe… It isn’t my fault… that I was born so useless. I didn’t ask for this.” The faint smell of iron reached Shouta’s nose, and he glanced at the clenched fist to find small droplets of red.

“Nobody is born useless.” Shouta spoke firmly, and the kid lifted his arm to look at the hero in disbelief. “Just as nobody is born equal, nobody is born useless. Everyone is born at a different starting line. Some people have to work harder than others, while the lucky few get carried to the top.” His eyes locked with startlingly green eyes. “If you work hard, and push yourself…” How was he going to say this? He wasn’t good with words or comfort. That was Hizashi’s gig, not Shouta’s. Still… he couldn’t just say nothing. He took a deep breath.

“Three things make the core of a hero; Heart, Determination, Resourcefulness. Not Quirks. Not money or connections or any of that bull. If you truly want this… if you push yourself past your limits… Then yes. Even without a Quirk, you can become a hero.”

The kid stared at him in shock, as if he’d suddenly broken the space-time continuum by sneezing. For a moment, Shouta worried that the kid wouldn’t believe the sincerity of his words. But then, abruptly, a bright flame flared to life in the eyes of the boy, making his green orbs shine like great viridian diamonds. Tears flowed down his cheeks, as he finally sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest and cried.

In a moment of empathy, Shouta wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders. He leaned into the hero, clutching his shirt like a lifeline as he sobbed. Each sob chipped away at the pro’s heart. He could relate to the kid. He really could. He’d been bullied and ostracized growing up for his ability to remove people’s ‘god given gifts’. He knew how cruel people could be to someone beyond the norm. But he knew the Quirkless had it worse than he ever had.

Without disturbing the child, he sent a brief text to Hizashi, telling him that he’d be late and not to worry (and then sent a second text as an afterthought stating that he hadn’t run into any villains or anything). He mentally winced when he saw two missed calls and about a dozen texts from his worried husband, but hopefully his own hastily typed reply would put him at ease.

After the better part of an hour, the kid calmed down.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Y-You’re a pro and I just wasted so much of your time!” The kid shook his head violently, and Shouta sighed.

“Yes. I’m a pro. But do you know why I’m a pro?” The kid blinked up in confusion.

“To help people?”

If only the world was that straight forward—you’re too pure, kid. “Exactly. To help people. Like you. What’s your name, kid?”

“Mi-Midoriya Izuku.” He flushed red, embarrassed at having forgotten to introduce himself. Illogical. You were in the middle of a mental-emotional breakdown. You weren’t in the state of mind for an introduction. “I-I just started my second year of middle school.” He’s still so young…

“I need to know… Are you safe at home?” Shouta knew the statistics. He knew that Quirkless kids were usually abused at home if not dumped off at orphanages or tossed out onto the streets.

“H-hai! My mother is very kind. She tries her best to make me happy…” Shouta relaxed at his answer. “Eraserhead… Do you really think that… I could be a hero?” He looked up hesitantly into his eyes, and Shouta fought the urge to sigh.

“I meant what I said. Midoriya, you can become a Hero. All it takes is hard work and dedication. It’s dangerous, but you choose your own path in life. You may not be able to become a limelight hero, but you can still become a hero.” Shouta sat back against the wall as he gazed at the clouds for a moment. The commotion across town had died down, and he was sure it was resolved by now.

“People told me I couldn’t become a Hero either.” He didn’t know why he was telling Midoriya this. He sympathized with the kid, sure, but Shouta wasn’t one to openly admit anything personal.

“R-really?” Bright green eyes blinked in shock.

“Every pro has their own story. You asked me why I saved you?” He allowed a small smile to flit across his face. “I once almost did exactly what you did. But… a complete stranger asked me not to. Said that if I could live long enough to save just one person… even if that person was myself… that that was enough.” He looked over to the boy, to find him staring at him in awe. That same starry eyed look that most kids looked at the other Heroes. It made him uncomfortable, but he’d be damned if he showed it.

“Is that why you’re an Underground Hero? So you can help people where it matters, when the Limelight Heroes are off-duty?”

“The media doesn’t care about the scumbags that prowl the alleyways at two in the morning.” Shouta scowled. “But they hurt more people than the villains that rampage during the day. I became a hero to help people. Not because I want admiration or recognition.”

They went quiet for a long moment. Midoriya fell into a deep contemplative silence as Shouta took a moment to relax into the last rays of sunlight.

In another world, that would’ve been the moment that All Might had amended his earlier words and told Midoriya that he could be a hero. That he was worthy of inheriting his Quirk, and that he would train him as his successor. It would’ve marked the start of a grand new chapter of Midoriya’s life, one with a Quirk and a sea of friends and supporters. A life in the golden light of Limelight Heroes and flashy Quirks.

But in this world… in this reality… The boy found the confidence in himself to look over at the hero that had saved him. “Eraserhead.”

Shouta looked over at the child whose eyes shined with fierce determination. He found himself curious.

Midoriya lowered himself into a kneeling bow, touching his forehead to the ground. “Please train me to become an Underground Hero!”

Shouta stared in shock. Normally, he’d say no. He was a teacher, and a hero and a husband and had several other obligations (and cats). But… he found himself unusually attached to this green-eyed green-haired child. He’d seen nothing truly impressive about the boy. Nothing worthwhile in training. But there was something about him. Something that excited Shouta as a teacher. As a mentor. And yet… could he really be considering this? Of course the answer had to be no! But why does it have to be no?

He’d expelled most of his homeroom class this year, and the ones left behind were surprisingly mature (including that Miriro kid). He had plenty of free time. And while this kid was still in Junior High, the hidden potential of this child seemed to call out to him. A Quirkless kid aspiring to become an Underground Hero…

The boy was fidgeting. He could practically smell the embarrassment and shame and disappointment rolling off the boy. He’d taken a little too long, it would seem. The kid had assumed he’d declined.

“Get up.” He said, getting to his feet and dusting off his knees. The kid heaved a heavy sigh and stood. “You will meet me at this address every day after school. We start tomorrow.” He scribbled down the address of an abandoned warehouse that Shouta had used for training whenever he wasn’t on U.A. campus.

Midoriya stared at him, slack-jawed. “Y-you mean?!”

“Don’t make me regret this decision. As it just so happens, I’ve got some free time this year. If you can’t keep up, or I feel that you’re slacking off, I won’t hesitate to stop your training.”

Midoriya bowed exuberantly, grinning with a smile so bright that Shouta really wished he had brought his sunglasses on this stupid shopping trip.

“Now let’s get you home. Your mother must be worried, and I still need her permission for this.” Shouta sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hizashi and Nemuri are never going to let me live this down.

But as he watched the kid grab his backpack and slip his shoes back on, he couldn’t find any trace of regret in this decision. Shouta’s gut was never wrong. This kid’s gonna be a hero one day. He smiled.