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Chapter Text

In some universes after Midoriya was diagnosed as quirkless, his best friend turned into his worst tormentor. Not this one though, no in this one he stayed. He didn't just stay, in this universe, they grew closer than ever. Let's go back to the beginning to see how exactly this happened, shall we?

"Sorry kid, it's not gonna happen."

"Oh! Is it because momma's side of the family has a quirkless gene? Or because I was born early? I read somewhere that could cause quirklessness. Is that true? Everyone thinks I have an intelligence quirk but I'm pretty sure I would have known about it by now. Yeah, my grades are better than the rest of the class but intelligence quirks normally have a tell right? Like Nedzu! I'm pretty sure he gets smarter the more tea he drinks but that really is just a theory so I don't have any solid evidence. However, it could explain why he drinks so much tea. Does tea have effects on stoats? Cause I'm pretty sure he's a stoat. Well, actually he's probably an albino stoat but that could also be from his base animal. It sucks that he got experimented on even if it did make him really smart. I don't think I would be able to handle that. Sure being quirkless would get everything harder because of the way society views them but I wouldn't want to get poked and prodded just to get a quirk. Maybe Nedzu actually has two quirks? One being his intelligence and the other would be him being an animal? Then again, he could just be a really smart person with a quirk that makes him a stoat instead of a stoat with an intelligence quirk. Or he could-"

(Somewhere at UA a stoat sneezes 'I wonder who could be talking about me. How curious' )

(Elsewhere at the same school, a certain black-haired gruff man feels a shiver go down his spine)

With that, the little greenettes word vomit had turned into a muttering mess that the doctor was only being able to pick up words every now and again. Now the doctor expected multiple things. disbelief, sadness, maybe even anger. However, a four year old breaking apart all the theories they have for quirklessness on top of posibly figuring out what species Nedzu is when no one has been able to? Well he definitely wasn't expecting it but it's welcomed, if not downright terrifying.

The sound of his mom talking brought both of them out of their thoughts. "Um.. what do you mean sir? Is something wrong with him?"

He was about to answer when he was interrupted by a very enthusiastic, "Momma he means I'm as quirkless as the day I was born!" 

Clearing his throat, he starts to talk. "Yes, the boy is right. He won't develop a quirk." Standing up and pointing at an x-ray of a foot, "See this? It's an extra toe joint that is only visible in two cases with quirks. One being if he had a bird mutation, seeing as he has no traits to suggest such that's out. The other being quirklessness.” 

The doctor stops to take a breath before continuing, “There is nothing wrong with him, he just does not possess the quirk factor gene that most of us have nowadays. However, I can assure you that he is a perfectly normal young man. More normal than the rest of us in fact.” He finishes with a chuckle at his own joke.

When he looked back at the woman's face he flinched back slightly, taken aback by the agitation on her face before it was expertly hidden by a gental smile. "Thank you, doctor." 

With that she grabbed the four year old's wrist, rather harshly, breaking him out of another mutter storm before it could start, and left the room.

‘Huh, what a peculiar boy. He would certainly make a quite terrifying villain if he fell into the wrong hands.’ He thought passively while cleaning up for the next patient. 

Chapter Text

The way back to their house was rather boring if you were to ask Izuku, momma wouldn’t even talk to him! He didn’t know why but he had a bad feeling about the rest of the day. Sighing as bone deep as a four year old could ( which to be fair, wasn’t that deep ), he looked out the window and just hoped this feeling, as if bugs were crawling under his skin, would go away. News flash, it didn’t.

After a twenty minute drive, they pulled up into their apartment complex. Taking the elevator, they went up to the fifth floor to door 505. Momma unlocked it with her key and Izuku immediately ran inside and jumped on his dad who caught him with practiced ease. He heard a deep chuckle come from his father, rough from his quirk. “Oh man kiddo, you’re getting so big!”

“I am already four Daddy!” 

Hisashi gasps loudly and shakes his head rapidl y, “nope! In my eyes you’re still a tiny little squirt!”

Izuku pouted and shook his head too, “no!! I'm four, daddy! Which means only ten more years till I get to go to UA!!”

Hisashi smiled kindly at his boy, clearly so proud that this little bundle of joy is going to be the best analyst this world could ever imagine. “Well, don’t grow up too fast. Got that short stack?”

He nodded at his father before he suddenly gasped loudly and started to squirm a lot in his dads grip. “Daddy!! Guess what!”

The black-haired man looks slightly confused before a look of realization comes to his face, “you got your quirk?”

Izuku giggles loudly and shakes his head fast, blurting out loudly, “I’m quirkless!! I’m a blank slate!”

Kissing the top of his head and pulling the boy into a tight hug he whispered in a very soft and loving voice, “I’m so proud of you baby boy..”

Izuku smiled and patted his fathers back, playfully whispering back, “Try not to cry daddy.”

He smiled and pulled him out of the hug, starting to tickle the little boy's sides, the soft sound of c hildren's giggles filled the small apartment and Hisashi smiled sweetly at the boy. Both of them were unaware of the look, one of disgust and hatred, Inko was giving the boy.

The next day Izuku went to preschool. He was really excited to see his best friend Katsuki or as he called him, Kat. While some people might be worried about the loud firecracker hating him now that he’s quirkless, he knew his best friend. He knew that the boy would love and care about him no matter what! 

Izuku was proven right when Katsuki just smirked and said “That just means you can be the man in the chair!! I’ll kick all the bad guys ass while you direct me to them with like- super hacking and stuff!”

The little boy giggled and nodded rapidly while jumping with one hand in the air, “Uh huh! We’re gonna be the best hero duo ever, they won’t know what hit em!”

 Katsuki giggled a little and stuck the same pose as his best friend, both unaware of the stares of disgust and pity the rest of the class was giving the green haired boy. 

It had been a few weeks since Izuku had been diagnosed as quirkless, and he noticed a few changes. 

One was, his classmates (aside from Kat) either treated him like he was made of glass or were a lot more rough with him. Kat tried his best to protect him from them but he couldn’t always be there when they would shove him around or take his toys away.

Two was a little more.. troubling. His mother had started to ignore him. He didn’t understand what he did wrong! But everytime he tried to talk to her she would just look at him like he was disgusting.. it was starting to make him really sad. 

Luckily his dad was still himself! If anything he was more protective then he was before, always hugging him and telling him he was going to do great things for this world and he couldn’t wait to see it.

The first time his mom had ever hit him he was too shocked to even react, she seemed to be just as shocked but.. there was a glint in her eyes that he didn’t like. He didn’t sleep much that night, he couldn’t when he just kept hearing the muffled sounds of his parents arguing.

He had told Katsuki as soon as he got to school the next morning, tears in his eyes. The blonde boy just hugged him and told him it was going to be alright, Izuku didn’t see the frown on his face.

It only got worse from there, the slaps were getting more frequent. She told him it was out of love and that she could get in big trouble if he told anyone! He didn’t want mommy to be taken away so he didn’t tell anyone, not even daddy or his best friend.

He never even told anyone when she started punching his stomach till he vomited blood on the floor and then made him clean it up. She was just showing her love.. right?

Chapter Text

Hisashi Midoriya had always prided himself on being a loving husband and father. Despite the long hours and grueling demands of his job, he made every effort to be present for his family. Yet, recently, he had noticed a change in the atmosphere at home—a shift that left him feeling uneasy.

It started with the little things. Inko, once so vibrant and cheerful, had become more withdrawn and irritable. Her laughter, which used to fill their home with warmth, had grown rare. Hisashi often found her staring into space, her expression distant and troubled.

One evening, after a particularly long day at work, Hisashi returned home to find Inko scolding Izuku harshly for spilling a glass of water. Her voice was sharp, her face twisted with frustration. And he thought he could see the faint red mark of a hand print on his tear stained face..

"Inko, it's just water," Hisashi said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's a child. Accidents happen."

Inko shrugged off his hand and turned away, muttering under her breath. Izuku, standing by the table with tears in his eyes, looked up at his father with a mix of relief and fear.

"Go to your room, Izuku," Inko snapped. "And don't come out until you've thought about how careless you were."

Izuku obeyed without a word, his small shoulders hunched as he trudged down the hallway. Hisashi watched him go, a knot of concern tightening in his chest. Once Izuku was out of earshot, he turned to his wife.

"Inko, what's going on? You've been so on edge lately."

Inko sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm just tired, Hisashi. It's been hard managing everything while you're at work."

Hisashi frowned, sensing that there was more to her words than she was letting on. "I know it's tough, but we need to support each other. Izuku's just a child. He needs our patience and understanding."

Inko's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't understand, Hisashi. You're not here most of the time. You don't see how difficult he can be."

Hisashi's heart ached at her words. He wanted to argue, to defend their son, but he also didn't want to escalate the tension. "Let's talk about this calmly. We can find a way to make things easier."

Inko nodded reluctantly, but the conversation ended there. The uneasy truce between them lingered, and Hisashi couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong.

Days turned into weeks, and Hisashi's suspicions grew. He began to notice the subtle signs of Izuku's distress—how he flinched when his mother raised her voice, the way he hesitated before speaking, as if fearing a reprimand. His once bright and cheerful boy seemed to be retreating into himself, his spark dimming.

One afternoon, while Hisashi was working from home, he heard a muffled sobbing coming from Izuku's room. He approached the door quietly and knocked softly. "Izuku, may I come in?"

There was a pause, followed by a hesitant "Yes, Dad."

Hisashi opened the door to find Izuku sitting on his bed, clutching a small All Might figurine. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. Hisashi's heart broke at the sight.

"What's wrong, son?" Hisashi asked, sitting beside him.

Izuku sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to make Mom angry."

Hisashi pulled Izuku into a comforting hug. "You didn't do anything wrong, Izuku. Sometimes grown-ups get upset over things that aren't your fault."

Izuku's small body trembled as he clung to his father. "I just want to be a good boy. I want Mom to be happy."

Hisashi held him tighter, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. "You are a good boy, Izuku. And no matter what, your mother and I love you very much."

That night, after Izuku had fallen asleep, Hisashi confronted Inko in their bedroom. "Inko, we need to talk."

Inko looked up from her book, her expression wary. "About what?"

"About Izuku," Hisashi said, his voice steady but filled with concern. "I think he's scared of you."

Inko's eyes widened with shock and indignation. "What are you talking about? I'm his mother. I would never hurt him."

"I'm not saying you're hurting him physically," Hisashi replied, trying to keep his tone calm. "But the way you speak to him, the constant criticism... it's affecting him. He's scared, Inko."

Inko's face flushed with anger. "You don't understand. You’re not here to see how difficult he can be. He needs to learn discipline."

Hisashi took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of frustration and helplessness. "He's five years old, Inko. He needs our love and support, not just discipline."

Inko's eyes filled with tears, and she looked away. "I don't know what to do, Hisashi. I'm trying my best, but sometimes I feel like I'm failing."

Hisashi's heart softened at her admission. He reached out and took her hand. "We can work through this together. Let's find a way to make things better for all of us. Maybe we could see a family counselor, someone who can help us understand how to support Izuku and each other."

Inko nodded slowly, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "Alright. Maybe that would help."

In the weeks that followed, they made an effort to create a more nurturing environment for Izuku. They sought the help of a counselor, who provided valuable insights into effective parenting and communication. For a time, it seemed like things were improving. Inko's patience grew, and Izuku's smiles began to return.

But despite their efforts, the underlying tension never fully disappeared. Inko's unresolved grief and frustration continued to simmer beneath the surface, occasionally flaring up in moments of stress. Hisashi remained vigilant, always ready to step in and shield Izuku from the worst of it.

Little did they know, their fragile peace was on the brink of being shattered forever. The day of the villain attack was fast approaching, and with it, a tragedy that would change their lives irrevocably.

Chapter Text

The sun shone brightly, casting golden rays over the bustling city. The streets were filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional roar of a hero's Quirk in action. Amidst the lively chaos, a young boy with wild green hair and wide, curious eyes darted through the crowds. Along with his lovely father.

As they walked hand in hand, Hisashi told Izuku stories of heroic deeds and epic battles, his voice animated and full of warmth. Izuku listened with rapt attention, his emerald eyes sparkling with admiration and excitement.

"Dad, do you think I'll be a great hero like All Might someday?" Izuku asked, his voice filled with innocent hope.

Hisashi smiled down at his son, ruffling his messy hair. "Of course, Izuku. You have the heart of a hero. All you need is to believe in yourself and never give up."

Izuku smiled wide before frowning and looking down, whispering softly “Even.. even if I’m quirkless..?”

Hisashi frowned and leaned down to look his child in the eyes, placing his hands on Izukus shoulders and opening his mouth to speak.

Suddenly an explosion shook the ground beneath their feet. Panic erupted around them as people screamed and scattered in all directions. Hisashi instinctively pulled Izuku close, shielding him from the debris.

"Daddy, what's happening?" Izuku's voice quivered with fear.

Hisashi's expression hardened as he scanned the chaotic scene. "Stay close to me, Izuku. We'll be safe."

In the distance, a figure emerged from the smoke and flames. The villain was a towering, menacing presence, clad in dark armor that seemed to absorb the light around him. His eyes glowed with a malevolent intensity as he advanced through the devastation, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Hisashi recognized the villain immediately – an infamous criminal known as Blackstorm, whose Quirk allowed him to manipulate and amplify natural disasters. Blackstorm had been on the run for years, evading capture by even the most skilled heroes.

"Stay behind me, Izuku," Hisashi instructed, his voice calm but firm. "I need to stop him."

Izuku clung to his father's leg, his small body trembling with fear. "But, Daddy, you're not a hero. You can't fight him!"

Hisashi knelt down, his hands gently cupping Izuku's face. "I may not be a hero, but I can still protect you. Trust me, Izuku."

With a final, reassuring smile, Hisashi stood and faced Blackstorm. Drawing a deep breath, he unleashed a powerful stream of fire from his mouth, aiming directly at the villain. The flames roared through the air, their intense heat palpable even from a distance.

Blackstorm sneered, raising his hand to conjure a swirling vortex of wind that dissipated the flames. "You think you can stop me, little man? You're nothing but a bug in my path."

Hisashi's determination didn't waver. He continued to attack, each burst of fire more desperate than the last. The ground trembled beneath their feet as Blackstorm retaliated with violent gusts of wind and shockwaves.

In the midst of the battle, Izuku's heart pounded in his chest. He watched in terror as his father's attacks were deflected effortlessly. Hisashi was giving his all, but it was clear he was outmatched.

Then, in a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Blackstorm unleashed a devastating blow. A massive, swirling tornado formed around him, expanding rapidly and engulfing everything in its path. Hisashi was caught in the violent winds, his body tossed like a ragdoll before being slammed to the ground with bone-crushing force.

"Dad!" Izuku screamed, tears streaming down his face. He tried to run to his father, but the fierce winds held him back.

Hisashi lay motionless, blood trickling from his mouth. With the last of his strength, he turned his head towards Izuku. "Run, Izuku... run and be strong… I love you.. Zuku"

Those were his final words before the light faded from his eyes. The world around Izuku seemed to crumble as the reality of his father's death sank in. He felt a crushing weight of despair and helplessness, unlike anything he had ever known.

Heroes arrived on the scene moments later, engaging Blackstorm in a fierce battle that eventually led to him escaping. For Izuku, the damage had already been done, it didn’t matter if he was caught or not. His hero, his father, was gone.

Inko Midoriya arrived at the scene shortly after, her face a mask of shock and grief. She glared down at Izuku, holding his hand as tightly as she could, while he sobbed uncontrollably. Inko's heart broke with the lose of her love, the trauma of losing her husband began to fester within her.

In the days and weeks that followed, Inko's grief turned to anger. She blamed Izuku for Hisashi's death, believing that if he had been stronger, if he had a Quirk, he could have protected his father. This resentment gradually twisted into hatred towards Izuku, whose dreams of becoming a hero reminded her of everything she had lost.

"Why do you keep talking about heroes?" she snapped one evening as Izuku excitedly recounted a story about All Might. "Heroes Save people, you didn’t save your father. You didn't save us."

Izuku flinched, tears welling up in his eyes. "But, Mom, I want to be like Dad. I want to protect people."

Inko's eyes hardened. "You won't be a hero, Izuku. You're Quirkless. You'll only get yourself killed just like Hisashi."

Her harsh words cut deep, leaving scars that would shape Izuku's life for years to come. As Inko's resentment grew, so did her abusive behavior. She became distant, cold, and unkind, often lashing out at Izuku for the smallest mistakes. The once warm and loving home became a place of fear and sorrow.

Izuku tried to stay strong, clinging to the memory of his father's final words. But the weight of his mother's anger and his own self-doubt made it increasingly difficult. He often found solace in his All Might figurines, whispering to them his fears and hopes.

"One day, I'll be a hero," he would say quietly, as if convincing himself. "I'll be strong, and I'll protect everyone."

Chapter Text

The days after Hisashi's death blended into a blur of grief and confusion for young Izuku Midoriya. The once vibrant household felt cold and oppressive, dominated by Inko's escalating anxiety and grief. As the months passed, her overprotectiveness began to suffocate Izuku.

It started subtly. Inko became reluctant to let Izuku go outside to play. She insisted he stay inside the apartment, where she could keep an eye on him. At first, Izuku didn't mind. He found ways to entertain himself with his All Might figurines and hero comics. But as weeks turned into months, the confinement began to take its toll.

"Mom, can I go play with Kacchan today?" Izuku asked one morning, his voice filled with longing.

Inko's face tightened. "No, Izuku. It's not safe out there. You know what happened to your father."

Izuku's heart sank. "But, Mom, I miss Kacchan. I promise I'll be careful."

Inko's eyes flashed with a mix of fear and anger. "I said no, Izuku! You don't understand the dangers out there. You're staying inside where I can protect you."

Izuku retreated to his room, feeling a deep sense of loneliness and frustration. He stared out the window, watching other children play in the park below. His thoughts drifted to Katsuki Bakugo, his childhood friend who he hadn't seen in weeks.

Katsuki, known as Kacchan to his friends, was a fiery and confident boy with a powerful Quirk. He and Izuku had been inseparable since they were toddlers, their friendship built on a shared love of heroes and adventure. But as Izuku's confinement stretched on, the distance between them grew.

One afternoon, Katsuki stood at the edge of the park, staring up at the window of the Midoriya apartment. He frowned, his mind racing with concern for his friend. He turned on his heel and sprinted home, determined to talk to his parents.

"Mom! Dad!" Katsuki called as he burst through the front door.

Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugo looked up from their respective activities, their faces reflecting mild surprise at their son's urgency.

"Katsuki, what's the matter?" Mitsuki asked, setting aside her magazine.

"It's Deku," Katsuki said, using his nickname for Izuku. "He hasn't been outside in forever. I think something's wrong."

Masaru frowned, concern etched on his face. "What do you mean, son?"

Katsuki took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. "Ever since his dad died, Auntie Inko won't let him out. She keeps him inside all the time. I went to their apartment, but she wouldn't let me see him. Deku's gotta be miserable."

Mitsuki exchanged a worried glance with Masaru. "That doesn't sound good. Inko's been through a lot, but keeping Izuku inside all the time isn't right."

Masaru nodded. "We'll talk to her, Katsuki. Maybe she just needs some help and support."

That evening, Mitsuki and Masaru made their way to the Midoriya apartment. Mitsuki knocked on the door, her expression determined.

Inko opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. "Mitsuki, Masaru, what brings you here?"

"We need to talk, Inko," Mitsuki said gently but firmly. "Can we come in?"

Inko hesitated before stepping aside to let them in. As they sat down in the living room, Mitsuki got straight to the point. "Inko, Katsuki told us that you've been keeping Izuku inside. Is that true?"

Inko's face tightened defensively. "I'm just trying to protect him. You know what happened to Hisashi."

Mitsuki's expression softened. "We understand your fear, Inko, but keeping Izuku locked away isn't the answer. He needs to be with his friends, to play and experience the world. It's not healthy for him to be confined like this."

Inko's eyes filled with anger. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just keeping my son safe."

Masaru leaned forward, his voice gentle. "Inko, we're all here to help you. You're not alone in this. Let Izuku come over and play with Katsuki. We'll keep an eye on them, make sure they're safe."

Inko stood up abruptly, saying “I think you need to leave.”

“W-what?” Mitsuki stuttered out, Inko was never one to speak out like this.

“Leave!” Inko yelled, pushing the married couple out of the door and slamming it.

Mitsuki and Masaru stood there in shock for a moment before sighing in defeat, walking back to their own apartment. They didn’t know what was going on but.. Inko was just stressed right? Yeah, Izuku would be okay. Right?

The days after the Bakugos' visit were tense and fraught with unspoken tension in the Midoriya apartment. Inko's mood swung wildly between sorrowful remorse and barely contained rage. Izuku did his best to stay out of her way, but the fear and uncertainty gnawed at him constantly.

One evening, the tension reached its breaking point. Inko was in the kitchen, her hands trembling as she tried to prepare dinner. Izuku sat quietly at the dining table, pretending to read a book, but his eyes kept darting nervously to his mother.

A sudden knock at the door made both of them jump. Inko's face twisted with anger as she wiped her hands on a towel and stormed to the door.

"Who is it?" she snapped, her voice edged with irritation.

"It's Mitsuki, Inko. We need to talk," came the voice from the other side.

Inko's anger flared, and she yanked the door open, glaring at Mitsuki and Masaru standing in the hallway. "I've told you before, we're fine. Leave us alone!"

Mitsuki's expression was firm but compassionate. "Inko, we can't ignore this. Izuku needs help, and so do you."

Inko's face reddened with fury. "I don't need your help! We're doing just fine without your interference!"

"Inko, please," Masaru added gently. "We're just worried about you both."

"Get out!" Inko screamed, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "Get out of my house and leave us alone!"

Mitsuki took a step back, her face a mask of shock and concern. "Alright, Inko. We'll go, but please, think about what we've said."

As the Bakugos retreated down the hallway, Inko slammed the door shut with a force that rattled the walls. She turned to see Izuku staring at her, his eyes wide with fear.

"Mom... please..." Izuku whispered, his voice trembling.

Inko's eyes filled with a mix of rage and desperation. "You don't love me, do you, Izuku? You love them more than me. You want to leave me, just like everyone else!"

Izuku's heart pounded in his chest. "No, Mom, I love you. I just—"

"Don't lie to me!" Inko screamed, her face contorted with anguish. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, her hand shaking. "You think I'm a monster, don't you? You want to run away and leave me all alone!"

"Mom, please put the knife down," Izuku pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "I love you. I really do."

Inko's eyes were wild with a combination of fear, grief, and rage. "If you love me, then why do you make everything so difficult?" She advanced on Izuku, the knife glinting in the harsh kitchen light.

Izuku backed away, his heart pounding in his chest. "Mom, I don't—"

Before he could finish, Inko lashed out, slashing the knife across his arm. Izuku cried out in pain, clutching his bleeding arm as he stumbled back.

Inko shoved him to the ground, kicking him in the stomach as he sobbed loudly. This went on for what felt like hours before Inko stomped off, fuming with rage.

Izuku stood by his bedroom window, staring longingly at the park below where children played and laughed. He pressed his hand against the glass, his heart aching with the desire to join them. The sound of Katsuki's laughter drifted up to him, filling him with a deep sense of longing. Izuku tried to find solace in his memories of better times, in the hope that maybe, somehow, things could get better. But the scars, both physical and emotional, were a constant reminder of how far they had fallen.

"Kat..." he whispered, his eyes brimming with tears. "I miss you."

The door to his room creaked open, and Inko's stern voice broke the silence. "Izuku, why are you standing there like that? You have chores to do."

Izuku turned, quickly wiping his tears away. "I'm sorry, Mom. I was just looking outside."

Inko's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Izuku. You've been daydreaming again, haven't you? Do you think I don't notice how much time you waste?"

"I'm sorry," Izuku repeated, his voice trembling. "I'll get to my chores right away."

Inko's face twisted with anger. "Sorry isn't good enough, Izuku. You need to understand the consequences of your actions."

Before Izuku could react, Inko grabbed his arm and dragged him to the living room. She pushed him down onto the floor and stood over him, her expression cold and unyielding.

"You think life is all fun and games, don't you?" she spat, her voice dripping with bitterness. "You think you can just ignore your responsibilities and everything will be fine? Well, it's not. Life is hard, Izuku, and you need to learn that."

Izuku's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to hold back his tears. "I-I'll do better, Mom. I promise."

Inko shook her head, her grip on his arm tightening. "No, you need to learn now." She reached for a wooden spoon on the kitchen counter, her eyes blazing with a mix of rage and desperation.

The first strike came swiftly, the sharp sting of the spoon against his skin causing Izuku to yelp in pain. "Mom, please!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.

Inko's face twisted with a mix of grief and frustration. "You need to learn, Izuku. You need to understand."

The strikes continued, each one more painful than the last. Izuku curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the blows. The physical pain was intense, but it was the emotional pain that hurt the most. The realization that his mother, the person who was supposed to protect and love him, was the one causing him harm was almost too much to bear.

Eventually, the blows stopped, and Inko dropped the spoon, her shoulders heaving with exhaustion. She looked down at Izuku, her face a mask of regret and sorrow. "I'm sorry, Izuku," she whispered, her voice choking with emotion. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Izuku lay on the floor, sobbing quietly. He wanted to believe her, to believe that she could change, but the fear and pain were too overwhelming. The sound of Katsuki's laughter outside only made the isolation and abuse feel even more unbearable.

Chapter Text

The tension in the Midoriya household had reached an unbearable peak. Each day, Izuku walked on eggshells, trying to avoid anything that might set off his mother's volatile temper. The incident with the knife had left a physical scar on his arm and a deeper, more insidious scar on his heart.

One evening, the oppressive silence in the apartment was shattered by the sound of breaking glass. Inko had dropped a dish, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She let out a frustrated cry, sinking to her knees amid the shards.

Izuku, who had been sitting on the living room floor, playing with his all might toy, spoke in a soft whisper. "Mom, are you okay?"

Inko looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and despair. "Why are you always in the way, Izuku? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I'm sorry, Mom," Izuku said softly, his heart aching with guilt. "I just wanted to help."

"Help?" Inko's voice rose, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think you can help me? You're just a child! You don't understand anything!"

Izuku flinched at her words, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Inko's face twisted with rage and grief. "Do you even understand what you've done to me, Izuku? Do you?"

Izuku shook his head, his tears falling freely now. "Mom, please... I don't know what you mean."

Inko stood up, her body trembling with emotion. "Your father is dead because of you! If it weren't for you, Hisashi would still be here!"

Izuku's world seemed to tilt on its axis. "What? Mom, no... that's not true."

"It is true!" Inko screamed, her voice cracking. "He was always so worried about you, always trying to protect you! If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have been distracted! He wouldn't have been killed!"

Izuku's legs gave out beneath him, and he sank to the floor, his mind reeling. "W-was it..?."

Inko's anger seemed to deflate, leaving her looking exhausted and broken. "He loved you so much, Izuku. He would do anything for you. And now he's gone. Because you’re a pathetic quirkless"

Izuku's sobs filled the room, the weight of his mother's words crashing down on him. "I loved him too, Mom. I miss him every day."

Inko collapsed into a chair, her face buried in her hands. "Just leave me alone! I don’t want to hear your stupid voice anymore."

Izuku bit his lip hard and nodded, he wiped the tears from his eyes and walked to his room. Izuku shut the door behind him, the quiet click of the latch echoing in the small, dimly lit room. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned against the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. His breath came in shallow, trembling gasps as he fought to keep from breaking down completely. His mind replayed his mother's words, each one piercing his heart like the knife she had used once before.

"Your father is dead because of you!"

The accusation played over and over in his mind, a relentless echo that refused to fade. He clutched his chest, trying to steady the storm of emotions inside him. He wanted to cry, to scream, to make sense of the overwhelming guilt that threatened to consume him. But all he could do was sit there, paralyzed by the weight of his mother's grief and anger.

Izuku's eyes drifted to the small window in his room, the moonlight casting a pale, ghostly glow across his bed. He thought of his father, Hisashi Midoriya, a man whose face had grown hazy in his memories. He could barely remember his father's voice, the warmth of his presence, the way he used to smile at him with pride and love. But now, all of those memories were tainted by his mother's words, by the thought that somehow, he was responsible for his father's death.

Izuku crawled onto his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin as he curled into a ball. He felt so small, so helpless, so utterly alone. The weight of his mother's accusations pressed down on him, suffocating him in a darkness that felt inescapable. He stared at the All Might poster on the wall, the hero's smiling face a distant, unreachable beacon of hope.

"Would Mom be happier if I stopped talking?" Izuku wondered, his thoughts growing darker with each passing second. "If I just stayed out of her way... if I never spoke again... maybe then she'd be okay."

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could disappear, wishing he could take back whatever it was he had done to cause his mother's pain. The idea of running away flickered in his mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. He couldn't leave her, not when she was so broken. He had to stay, even if it meant enduring the pain, even if it meant giving up more of himself.

But the thought of being silent, of not speaking, began to take root in his mind. It felt like a way to protect himself, a way to keep from causing any more harm. If he didn't speak, if he just faded into the background, maybe his mother wouldn't lash out at him anymore. Maybe, just maybe, she could find some peace.

As the night wore on, Izuku lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind spinning with these thoughts. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but he made a quiet, desperate promise to himself: he would do whatever it took to make his mother happy, even if it meant losing a part of himself in the process.

And so, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, Izuku Midoriya made a vow to silence his voice, to stay out of his mother's way, and to carry the burden of her pain alone.

Chapter Text

The days blurred into a monotonous haze for Izuku. He kept his promise, remaining silent, his words swallowed by the growing void inside him. The once lively boy, filled with dreams of becoming a hero, now spent his days confined to the small apartment, where the walls felt like they were closing in on him. His world had shrunk to the size of these four walls, and the silence between him and his mother was as thick as the air in the suffocatingly small space.

Inko barely spoke to him anymore. When she did, her words were sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife. She no longer left the apartment, no longer went to work. The curtains were always drawn, casting the rooms in a perpetual gloom. The apartment, which had once been a warm, loving home, now felt like a prison. 

Izuku tried to keep himself busy, reading old hero magazines, drawing in his sketchbook, or playing with the All Might figure he cherished. But even these small distractions couldn't fill the emptiness that had taken root in his heart. He missed school, he missed his friends, but most of all, he missed the mother who had once hugged him tightly and encouraged his dreams. 

Each day, Inko's mood seemed to worsen. She would sit in the living room, staring at the TV without really watching it, her face a mask of sorrow and resentment. Sometimes, she would look at Izuku, and he could feel her eyes on him, filled with something he couldn't quite name—a mix of anger, regret, and maybe even a touch of fear. But he never dared to meet her gaze, keeping his eyes downcast, his lips firmly sealed.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the apartment, Inko abruptly stood up from the couch. Her sudden movement startled Izuku, who had been sitting quietly on the floor, scribbling in his notebook. He looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Why are you just sitting there?" she snapped, her voice edged with irritation. "Why aren't you doing something useful?"

Izuku flinched but remained silent, his eyes wide as he watched her pace the room, her movements erratic. He wanted to ask what she wanted him to do, to offer to help, but the promise he'd made to himself—to stay silent, to stay out of her way—kept him from speaking. 

Inko stopped and turned to him, her eyes narrowing as she took in his fearful expression. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Why won't you say anything? Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"

Izuku shook his head quickly, his heart racing. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't trying to make her feel anything, that he just didn't want to upset her anymore. But the words caught in his throat, and all he could do was stare at her helplessly.

"You're just like him," Inko muttered, more to herself than to him. "Always silent, always brooding. You think you're better than me, don't you? Just because you don't say anything?"

Izuku's eyes filled with tears, but he refused to let them fall. He shook his head again, more desperately this time, trying to convey that he didn't think that at all, that he was just trying to make things better.

But Inko wasn't looking at him anymore. She had turned away, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I can't stand it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't stand this silence, this... this nothingness."

Izuku felt a pang of guilt so deep it nearly took his breath away. He wanted to speak, to comfort her, but he was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of making her anger worse. So he stayed silent, his hands trembling as he clutched the edge of his notebook.

Inko suddenly spun around, her face contorted with a mix of anger and despair. "You're just a reminder of everything I've lost," she said, her voice cracking. "I don't even know why you're still here. Why do you stay? Why don't you just leave like he did?"

Izuku's eyes widened in shock, her words slicing through him like a blade. He couldn't leave—where would he go? He was just a child, and this was his home, even if it no longer felt like one.

Before he could process what was happening, Inko stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound reverberated through the apartment, leaving Izuku alone in the oppressive silence once more. 

He sat there, his mind spinning, trying to understand what had just happened. His mother's words echoed in his head, leaving a trail of hurt and confusion in their wake. He felt a hollow ache in his chest, a deep-seated sadness that he didn't know how to escape from.

Izuku looked down at the notebook in his lap, his vision blurring with tears. He didn't want to be a burden, didn't want to remind his mother of her pain. But no matter what he did, it never seemed to be enough. The weight of his silence was becoming too much to bear, and yet he couldn't bring himself to break it.

That night, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Izuku made a new vow. He would find a way to make his mother happy again, no matter what it took. He would be the son she needed, the one who could somehow ease her pain. 

And if that meant continuing to stay silent, to keep his thoughts and feelings locked away, then so be it. He would do whatever it took to make things right, even if it meant losing himself in the process. 

The only thing that mattered now was making sure his mother was okay, and if he had to bear the burden of her pain alone, then he would do it. For her sake, he would do anything.

Chapter Text

Izuku awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice, sharp and irritated, cutting through the early morning stillness. His eyes blinked open, but the ache in his body quickly reminded him of his situation. The bruises on his arms and ribs throbbed dully as he shifted in bed, trying to avoid the pain.

“Inko, please,” he thought, though he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

Inko’s voice grew louder, and soon she was standing in the doorway of his room, her face twisted in anger. "Get up, Izuku," she barked. "You’re going back to school today."

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat. School? He hadn’t been outside in what felt like forever. The idea of leaving the apartment filled him with both dread and a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. But that small spark was quickly extinguished by the harshness in his mother’s tone. This wasn’t a gift or a sign of care; it was just a way to get him out of her sight.

He nodded silently, sitting up slowly to avoid the sharp pain that came with sudden movements. Inko’s eyes narrowed as she watched him, her patience wearing thin. "Hurry up!" she snapped. "I don’t have all day."

Izuku scrambled out of bed, his small body moving as quickly as it could without provoking more of her anger. He dressed in his school uniform, the fabric rubbing uncomfortably against his bruised skin. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—a pale, thin boy with dull green eyes stared back at him. He barely recognized the child he used to be.

When he emerged from his room, Inko was in the kitchen, her expression cold and detached. She shoved a battered backpack into his hands, her grip tight enough to make him wince.

"Here," she said curtly. "Your lunch is inside. Don’t lose it."

Izuku nodded, keeping his eyes downcast. He didn’t dare speak. He hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, and he knew better than to break his silence now. Words had only ever made things worse.

As he reached for the door, hoping to slip out quietly, Inko’s voice stopped him cold. "Wait." 

He froze, heart pounding, and turned to face her. Her eyes were dark, filled with something he couldn’t quite understand. "Don’t think for a second that this means things are okay," she hissed. "You’ve been nothing but a burden. If you even think about telling anyone what happens here, if you so much as whisper to your teacher or anyone else, you’ll regret it. Understand?"

Izuku nodded, fear tightening his throat. His small hands gripped the straps of his backpack until his knuckles turned white. He wouldn’t say a word. He knew better.

But his silence didn’t appease her. Inko stepped forward, and before Izuku could react, her hand lashed out, slapping him hard across the cheek. The force of it sent him stumbling into the wall, his face stinging from the blow. But he didn’t make a sound. He had learned to endure the pain in silence.

"Useless," she muttered, her voice full of disdain. "Just like your father."

She turned away, dismissing him with a wave of her hand as though he were nothing more than a nuisance. "Get out of my sight."

Izuku didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped out the door, his cheek still burning, and started the long walk to school. The world outside felt strange and overwhelming after so long inside. The air was cool, and the morning sun cast long shadows across the pavement, but Izuku barely noticed. His thoughts were clouded with fear and uncertainty.

As he approached the school, his anxiety grew. He kept his head down, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. The idea of facing his classmates and teacher after being absent for so long made his stomach twist with dread.

When he finally entered the classroom, the teacher—Mrs. Takahashi—looked up from her desk. Her expression wasn’t one of warmth or welcome. Instead, her eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of disapproval crossing her face.

"So you’ve decided to come back, Deku," she said, her tone indifferent and cold. The name stung, a cruel reminder of the helplessness he felt every day.

Izuku flinched but nodded and quickly made his way to his desk at the back of the room. He could feel the eyes of his classmates on him, and the whispers started almost immediately. They noticed the faint bruise on his cheek, the way his uniform hung a little too loose on his small frame.

But one gaze stood out among the others. Katsuki Bakugo, who usually wore an expression of disdain or superiority, was staring at Izuku with a look that was a mix of surprise and concern. Izuku dared to glance up for just a second, meeting Katsuki’s eyes before quickly looking away. The concern he saw there only made him feel worse. He didn’t want pity—not from anyone, especially not from Katsuki.

Mrs. Takahashi didn’t ask him where he had been or if he was okay. She simply continued with the lesson as if he had never been gone. Izuku’s mind drifted, her words blurring into the background as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He had promised himself he wouldn’t cry. Not here, not where they could see.

The day dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. Izuku didn’t speak to anyone. He moved through the day like a ghost, unnoticed and unacknowledged. He tried to focus on his schoolwork, but his mind kept returning to the apartment, to his mother, to the promise he had made to stay silent.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Izuku gathered his things and left without a word. The walk home felt longer, the shadows deeper as the sun dipped lower in the sky. He dreaded returning to the apartment, but there was nowhere else for him to go.

As he approached the door, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side. Then, with a trembling hand, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The apartment was quiet, but the tension in the air was palpable. Inko was sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the wall. She didn’t acknowledge his presence, didn’t look at him as he quietly set his backpack down and slipped into his room.

Izuku closed the door softly behind him and leaned against it, his small body shaking with the effort to hold back tears. His 7th birthday had come and gone, marked not by celebration or love, but by bruises and silence. 

As he lay down on his bed, he curled up into a tight ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. He knew better than to cry out loud, knew better than to let anyone hear. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and let the tears fall silently, his sobs muffled by the darkness that surrounded him.

In the stillness of his room, Izuku made another promise to himself—a promise that went beyond words, beyond silence. He would endure. No matter what happened, he would keep going. He had to. Because deep down, in the quietest part of his heart, he still clung to the faint hope that one day, things might change. One day, he might find the strength to speak again, to make things right.

But for now, all he could do was survive.

Chapter Text

The next morning arrived quietly, with the soft light of dawn casting a gray hue over the small apartment. Izuku dressed himself carefully, making sure not to disturb Inko. The weight of everything that had happened the day before sat heavily in his chest as he put on his school uniform, the stiffness in his bruised body a constant reminder of his reality.

He left the apartment without having breakfast, gripping his worn-out backpack tightly as he made his way to school. The streets were deserted, the world still in the process of waking up. Each step felt heavier than the last, the thought of the upcoming school day filling him with anxiety.

Upon reaching the classroom, Izuku slipped inside unnoticed, keeping his head down. The chatter of his classmates filled the room, creating a stark contrast to the oppressive silence he had left behind at home. He found his usual spot at the back and settled in, wishing he could just fade away. The faint mark on his cheek from Inko’s anger was still there, and he hoped no one would bring it up.

As the class settled in and the teacher began the lesson, Izuku focused intently on his notebook. He didn’t dare to look up, fearful of catching someone’s eye. The soft scratching of his pencil against the paper was the only sound he allowed himself to make.

However, not everyone was willing to let him be.

During a break between lessons, Katsuki Bakugo approached him. At first, Izuku didn’t notice, too absorbed in his doodles to sense the familiar presence hovering beside his desk. It wasn’t until Katsuki spoke that Izuku froze.

"Oi, Deku," Katsuki said, his voice surprisingly subdued, although his usual gruffness was still there. "What’s going on with you?"

Izuku’s heart raced. He didn’t lift his gaze or respond, keeping his head down as his pencil paused mid-stroke.

Katsuki frowned, his crimson eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "I said, what’s going on? You show up after being MIA for ages, looking like you got hit by a truck, and you don’t say a word? What’s up with you?"

The words stung, not because they were harsh, but because there was a hint of concern woven into Katsuki’s frustration. Izuku wanted to answer, to reassure him somehow, but his throat felt heavy, as if it were filled with lead. The promise he’d made to himself—and to his mother—kept him silent.

Katsuki leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Are you really just going to sit there and ignore me? What, do you think you’re better than me now or something?"

Izuku shook his head slightly but didn’t raise his eyes. His fingers gripped his pencil tightly, his knuckles turning white. The tension between them hung in the air, thick and unspoken.

Katsuki’s frustration boiled over. He slammed his hand on Izuku’s desk, causing the smaller boy to flinch. "Deku, just say something! Anything!"

The room fell silent, with other students turning to watch the unfolding drama. Mrs. Takahashi, who had been writing on the board, turned around, her stern gaze landing on the two boys.

"Bakugo!" she snapped. "Sit down and stop causing a scene!"

Katsuki hesitated, his jaw clenched tight. He glanced down at Izuku, his expression unreadable but looked like concern? But he finally backed off. "Tch. Whatever," he muttered, turning to return to his seat. But the concern in his eyes lingered, even as he tried to hide it with indifference.

Izuku let out a shaky breath, his heart racing in his chest. The classroom resumed its usual chatter, but the weight of their exchange stayed with him. Katsuki’s words echoed in his mind, filling the void where his own voice used to be.

He longed to say something. He wanted to tell Katsuki he was fine, even if that wasn’t true. But fear held him back, wrapping around him like a chain he couldn’t break. His silence had become more than just a choice; it was a fragile yet impenetrable shield.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Izuku avoided everyone’s gaze, his silence acting as his armor. Katsuki didn’t approach him again, though Izuku could feel his eyes on him from time to time. The guilt of ignoring his former friend weighed heavily on him, but he had no idea how to bridge the growing gap between them.

When the final bell rang, Izuku rushed out of the classroom, his heart heavy and his steps quickening. He didn’t want to give Katsuki—or anyone else—the opportunity to corner him again. As he walked home, the familiar fear of facing his mother gnawed at him, now accompanied by a new sensation: the faint, painful ache of loneliness.

Katsuki’s words had struck a chord, but Izuku’s silence remained unbroken.

Chapter Text

hiii!! my grammar is gonna be bad but im just typoing this fast and not really paying attention lmao 

soooo its been forever since i last posted and im sorry

im not abandoning this in facttt im currently working on a rewrite of it as im no longer happy with this..

my writing skills have improved (i hope?) so im going to rewrite this with more detail, make it more slow burn and attempt to make it longer

if i were to just delete all my chapters on this page and repost them as if this story never existed as it is would people be upset?

i can keep it up i just dont see a point in doing so, soooo let me know! 

i should be posting it within a week so if no one comments by then about wanting this to stay up ill just delete these chapters and post (hopefully) better and longer ones

thanks for all your patience with me lmao