I'm Weak, But Tougher Than Iron (A My Hero Academia Fanfic)

Prolouge-Hard Times Make a Boy Tough

*just a quick before the story author's note. If any of you could draw the cover better than I could and send it to me, then I'd be eternally grateful. You obviously would NOT be uncredited for your amazing work. And you'd help out your author sooo much. Thx, and enjoy the story*

"I'm not your average person," A green haired boy sat on his bed, staring at his ceiling. He had tons of posters and merchandise of heroes, they were mostly figurines and memorabilia of his favorite hero, All Might. It wasn't too hard to guess why he loved All Might so much, it was because he was the number one pro hero as well as the symbol of peace. "It's kind of weird. See, I have a well beyond average intelligence, yet I don't have a quirk. And when a quirk, which is basically a super power, doesn't manifest in somebody at the age of four, they are usually beheld as something entirely useless. Utterly flawed in every way that someone sees fit," he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed a ball off of it.

   He tossed it into the air and caught it when it came down, "which apparently I'm not, since I'm extremely smart and know my way around machinery. Meaning that I can and will develop tech for heroes when I get accepted into UA in two years. Since it's the least I can do for this world," he sat up in his bed and swung his legs over the side of it. On his desk were scraps of metal and old broken tech that he salvaged from a beach. He stood up and walked over to the desk, in the center of it was a set of blueprints for an exoskeleton of some sort. "This suit is something that I've been working on for years, with this, heroes could become stronger, faster, and more durable than they would be without it. It's design would protect the user from any blow by shifting its lightweight, yet insanely durable metallic frame around to the site of impact and absorb the attack."

   The green haired boy looked at something else on his desk, "but there's been something else that I've been working on. Something that could change the world, it doesn't have a name just a working title for it, whoever wears the armor would be named 'Iron Man." He did air quotes around the name and picked up the object, it was a small microchip looking thing. "This is something that should be used in tandem with the suit's hand," he set it down and pulled his desk forwards a bit. Blueprints fell out from behind it, "can't have your most guarded secret out in the open, can you?"

He grabbed it and set it down on his desk and spread it out. What was drawn on there, was armor that surrounded the body. "In the hand," he tapped it, "this machine would use the suit's power supply and fire beams of energy. I call them repulsors since they fire off the power source of the suit, and that's basically what something that's repulsive does." He tapped the face next, "This is a visor that can open and close on one quick click. It slides back up and folds into itself when it's opened, the opposite when it's closed. It's probably my wonder child that'd most likely waste away and soon become something that is fictitious, than reality." The boy stood there for a couple of seconds, completely silent before he rolled up the blueprints and put them in their spot again.

   "Which is 100 percent true. It never became a reality because it never worked," the green haired boy just stared at the parts on the desk. "Hell, I can't even be a hero or produce some of these things, especially when I'm crippled." The boy suddenly was on his bed, without having moved a muscle. "It's been about a year since I lost feeling in my legs, but I continue to tinker despite my moms best efforts to stop me." A wheelchair was in the place of his nightstand, and the pile of scrap on his desk was dwindling. But, on a shelf in a new bookcase, was the helmet and two repulsors.

"I've found it nearly impossible to make anything other than those three parts to the suit, 'cause you can't really work on anything vertical without legs. But I said nearly, not everything is impossible, just finding a source of power string enough for it." He pushed himself up with the use of his arms, and pulled the wheelchair over towards him. "If you want to hear my story, go ahead, I won't stop you," he pulled himself off of the bed and fell to the ground. "If you don't, then I wouldn't care." He somehow lifted his frail body upwards and into the chair with the strength of his upper half alone. "Now," he began to roll himself out of his room, "here is the pitiful story." He said rather sarcastically, "of Izuku Midoriya. The crippled Deku."