One for One, All for All (on hiatus)

The pain of being Quirkless

"It's not going to happen, I'm afraid."

Words that struck like hammers through glass, smashing his world to smithereens. When the doctor said he'd never be a hero, not without a Quirk... all he could do was sit there and stare straight ahead. Days, weeks went right on by and he didn't say anything to anyone. He just remembered finding that clip, that one clip of All Might, the first clip.

The rest was already a teary blur, all he remembered was asking his mother if he had a chance of ever being like All Might. All she could do was hold and weep, apologizing over and over.

The day that followed All Might's death... he couldn't do much more than sit there and stare again.

Cameras, teary eyed reporters with lines on their faces from fear, so many voices all at once. All for the boy who was there. Right there.

Questions he couldn't answer, anxieties he couldn't soothe, fears he couldn't assuage. All the while his mother sobbed, inconsolable at the disappearance of his father. Little Izuku just felt... numb. Like his whole body had been motionless for far too long, circulation no longer flowing.

Eventually, they just wandered home. Lines of houses, all with bright paint that hadn't chipped. Lush green trees, bushes and grass trimmed and hedged. Windows were clean and clear, cars polished and repaired. Roads were smooth and dark, the lines painted bright and fresh.

So idyllic a place to go home to, and be miserable, so bold a contrast to the war zone in which he had been trapped. Phone calls came in, in the days that followed, one by one. The insincerity of the sympathy from some of his mother's friends made him choke back tears, almost as much as the call from his father's parents where they screamed their frustration and sadness to high heaven, blaming her for letting daddy die.

Izuku just hugged her, squeezing her tight. "It's okay, mamma... if All Might couldn't stop it, how could anyone?"

The first reasonable or sensible thing anyone had said to her in almost a week, and it was from her own baby. Her response wasn't much more than picking him up and squeezing until both their arms hurt. Eventually, when she'd fallen asleep, Izuku let his numb and empty mind decide what he did next. A long walk, with no destination in mind.

Little feet in little red shoes carried him along streets filled with mourners holding candle-lit vigils. Children were crying at the death of the world's greatest hero and idol to all, parents were holding each other as they stared fearfully at the odd future ahead.

Maybe he wasn't so different, but they were trying to make themselves feel better. He wasn't. It wasn't easy to decide if that was a good or a bad thing, so he didn't try. Mental energy was in short supply right now; better to save it for things that really mattered.

Hours passed, and his body wasn't in a place where it could tell how tired it was anymore. It was only after it got dark that he went home and curled up on the couch next to his mother. When morning came, he got up on his own, dressed and had cereal, then walked to school. Just like every other day now, he couldn't really hear what was being said by almost anyone. This time, grief was a barrier too; not just being their outsider.

Considering it was their first day back since All Might's death, the teacher just decided to ease them back into the swing of things. However, when their break time came, things did not stay so relaxed.

Two sets of little arms grabbed Izuku and started dragging him, and before he knew it he was behind the shed and staring down Bakugo.

Quivering shoulders, bared teeth and piercingly furious red eyes that burned holes into Izuku's face; Kacchan looked demonic. His voice wasn't any different. "It was your fault..."