AN: Okay, so this was just a silly idea I had that I wrote down.
I hope you enjoy my weird idea~~
Huge shout out to Rzen, as always for being an amazing beta!
Anyway, enjoy :DD
"All you can take with you is that which you've given."
He quickly tied his shoes as he ran out the door, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder to his mom.
He was late… again.
This wasn't the first time he had missed waking up to his alarm, nor did he believe it would be his last. Still, it sucked, and he really didn't want to be late for class. The glass is half full. I still have time to make it to class, besides, now I know I'm well rested for the day.
The elevator was broken—typical. It looked like he was going to be taking the stairs this morning. The glass is half full. This just means more exercise for me. He tried to keep his thoughts on a happy note.
Running out the doors to his apartment complex, Izuku didn't notice a man walking in, and bumped into him. He wished this wasn't such a common occurrence. It happened more often than he would like to admit. Running into things was his speciality. Not only did he end up running late every other day, he also had the misfortune to run into misplaced things such as trash cans or, more often than not, people.
"Watch where you're going, kid!" The man shouted ruefully, as Izuku kept moving forward. He really didn't have the time to stop and apologize, besides that man knew who he was. He ran into that man at least twice weekly. He was known for standing outside their apartment complex and smoking. Coincidently, Izuku was known for bumping into him on his way to class.
The whole everything-that-could-go-wrong-would-go-wrong routine was… annoying, and grated on his nerves. Still, there was no point in being overly dramatic about it. He knew that it couldn't be helped.
He had tried for years to combat his bad luck, but to no prevail—bad luck was just as much a part of him as breathing, it was an extension of himself, just as all quirks were to their users. Still, he tried not to let that get him down. He tried to focus on the more positive aspects of his life instead.
The glass is half full, not half empty.
At the very least, he was getting faster in his attempts to not be late to class. He was pretty sure he's shaved off a full two minutes on his average mile run. He knew he would miss every stop light, he always did, so he took the back way. It was longer, unless you were him and would end up having to stop at every traffic light.
It had taken him three months of being late to class before he finally figured out the system. Regardless of him knowing the system, his own sleeping in hindered his ability to make it on time.
The back way was his insurance route—whenever he overslept or was running late, the back way offered him a slightly longer, but with no stop lights, way to run to school. Today would be one of those days where he used this backup route, and he hoped he was quick enough to make it to school before he was late.
He thought he might make it to class on time today, but almost as soon as he reached the doors to the building, he heard the bell ring, signaling his tardiness.
Just his luck.
Sighing, he pushed open the doors and made his way to his class.
Putting on a smile, Izuku opened the door to his class.
The room hushed, as it always did.
He took a deep breath, calming his nerves before stepping into class… and immediately falling flat on his face due to his shoe laces coming undone. In hindsight, he should have been more aware of this kind of thing. They happened so often he didn't even get embarrassed over it, just slightly annoyed.
He ignored the hushed whispers, biting his tongue to keep quiet, of his classmates as he made his way to his desk.
"Don't look at him. His bad luck will rub off on you."
"He's cursed."
"Shh, do you want him to hear you? He'll curse you too." The whispers were quiet, but he could still hear them. It was nothing new, but they still made him wilt in on himself.
"How could he be anything but a villain with a quirk like that?"
That… that one stung. He knew his quirk was undesirable, but a villain's quirk? He wasn't a villain, no matter what his quirk did. He would become a hero.
Izuku ducked his head lower, pretending he couldn't hear the jibes directed towards him. It was nothing new, he told himself. It didn't hurt.
It did though. It hurt to be routinely called a nuisance, a curse, a bad omen. He understood why they were all hesitant to go near him, he really did. If he was being honest with himself, he wouldn't want to be near himself either. He was walking bad luck.
Whenever something bad happened, he was most certainly nearby. Wherever he went, bad luck followed. His classmates picked up on that rather quickly.
Once Izuku made it to his desk, he sat down, and took out his notes.
The glass is half full, not half empty.
It wasn't all bad though. The bullying was almost nonexistent, save for the hushed murmurs and rumors that spread with the fervor of a wildfire, and most of the time people just let left him alone. The seclusion was nice—sometimes. It meant he could go over his 'future hero analysis book'. Though, most of the time, he just felt isolated.
Despite his bad luck, he wanted to be a hero. He had his heart set on it, and nothing, not even his horrible luck, would deter him.
Luck was a scam, a hoax. It didn't exist. At least, that's what he told himself. Otherwise, he would have to face the fact that with a quirk like his, he would never be lucky. His quirk emitted bad luck, if he relied solely on luck, he would be doomed before he even had a chance.
He held the firm belief that people were who they were based on the choices they made, not the circumstances of their life. That was why he admired heroes. Despite everything bad in this world, despite the world's unfairness, they stood up for the innocent. Heroes stood against the odds, fought for a brighter future. Izuku wanted nothing more than to stand by their side, paving the way to a better future.
Izuku let his attention fall on the teacher, forgetting about his own thoughts for a moment. The teacher was in the middle of their lesson when one of the overhead lights flickered, then went out.
There was a collective groan; all heads turned to him.
"Sorry," he mumbled. He hadn't meant to, but he must have lost control of his quirk. It happened sometimes, if he wasn't paying attention. He could have sworn he had been able to keep it from spreading, but of course, luck was never on his side.
Bakugo, who was sitting in front of him, turned to him, "Way to go, nerd. You broke the light with your goddamn quirk."
Bakugo had never cared about the 'rumors' that spread about him. He didn't let that stop him from tormenting Izuku on the daily. Although, he did blame every inconvenience on him whenever he could. Izuku hated it. It wasn't his fault—not purposefully, at least—that those things happened.
"I said sorry," Izuku gritted out. "What more do you want?" He and Bakugo didn't get along very well, and he was probably going to pay for testing him right now. It was never good to go against Bakugo.
"Maybe if you could control that useless power you call a quirk, we wouldn't have to interrupt class for a fucking light outage, you fucking loser."
Izuku wilted at that, turning his head to the teacher in hopes he would at least try to quell the situation, but he just gave an exasperated sigh—one meant for Izuku and not Bakugo. Even the teacher, it seemed, had tired of his eternal bad luck.
Bakugo sent him one final glare before turning back in his seat.
The teacher continued with their lesson—with one less light to work with—and things went back to normal. That was until the teacher started talking about heroes.
Of course everyone wanted to go into a heroics class. It was most everyone in class's aspiration to become a hero. Whilst everyone else jumped from their seats, excited to demonstrate their quirks, Izuku was less enthusiastic with his expressions. He stayed quiet, in his desk, putting one measly hand up.
"Ah, yes, well I'm sure you'll all make fine heroes someday," the teacher prattled on and on. He stopped paying attention until the teacher mentioned his name, "Hmm, it says here that Midoriya is looking at U.A."
Izuku's head shot up at that. He couldn't believe—or well he could, actually—that the teacher had just outed him to the entire class.
"Y-yes," he stuttered out meekly.
The murmurs commenced, not bothering to try and keep their voices down this time.
"He actually thinks he can be a hero?"
"Doesn't he realize he'd probably get someone killed with a quirk like that?"
"He's delusional. No one would want someone with his quirk as a hero."
All those murmurs were drowned out by Bakugo though, as he made his displeasure known to the entire class.
"What the fuck do you think you're playing at, Deku?" He growled out the cursed nickname as if it were poison on his lips, "You really think you can be a hero? That U.A. would accept some low-life with a quirk like that into their school? Your quirk's nothing but a nuisance, a fucking inconvenience to everyone."
Izuku gaped at him, not knowing how to respond to that. He knew his quirk was rather unpleasant, that it never really helped anyone, but to hear it all thrown back at him like that, it hurt.
"I-I can be a hero…" he said it so quietly we wasn't sure Bakugo would be able to hear him, but he did, loud and clear.
Bakugo sneered at him, obviously not happy with his response, "You're just a deku, Deku. Get your head outta the gutter. Someone like you could never, and I mean never become a hero. With your quirk, you'd end up getting someone killed."
Izuku froze. That wasn't fair. Bakugo knew that and yet, he had still… He let his head fall, no longer willing to say anything in his own defense. Bakugo had a point, his quirk would be a nuisance to all those around him, but that didn't mean… He could still be a hero, right?
There was a time, in the past, where he had doubted himself, had thought he couldn't be anything. That had been years ago, he had grown from then, and knew that the future was what he made of it. That was the anthem he marched to.
He had made a vow a long time ago to himself, to never give up, to never look down. He couldn't afford to be pessimistic about his circumstances, so he decided then that he would be optimistic.
Life was not fair. All men were not created equal. He knew that. However, life was not fair for everyone, everyone played by those same rules. People weren't equal, but they all had their strengths. They all had something about them that made them unique.
He was unlucky. There was nothing more to it than that. He was doomed to always get the short end of the stick, to be the last picked, to lose things and trip over his feet. He learned to live with it, there wasn't anything else he could do.
Now, as much a he hated it, as much as he despised this cursed quirk, he had to live with it. He had to learn to deal with it. He wanted nothing else than to be a hero, to help people and give them hope, but he doubted that was possible with this unlucky quirk of his. How could someone who always causes trouble ever help anybody?
Bakugo wasn't wrong, his quirk was a nuisance—he was a nuisance.
He stayed quiet; Bakugo took that as a win and sat back down in his seat.
Now that the ruckus had all but died down the teacher continued with class. He never intervened in these situations, leaving Izuku to defend himself.
Izuku remained quiet for the duration of class. Once class had ended, he silently put his 'future hero quirk analysis notebook' back in his bag, or tried to before Bakugo snatched it.
He didn't give Izuku a chance to say anything, before he started belittling Izuku for even daring to have the 'stupid notebook'. It hurt, but mostly because Bakugo knew what to say; he knew how to hurt Izuku with his words and his quirk.
Bakugo glared at him, "You won't be needing a piece of crap like this anyway." He promptly put the book in between his hands, and ignited his quirk, encasing the notebook in flames that crudely burned the pages. He swiftly walked to the window and, without looking, tossed the notebook out.
Always one for theatrics, Bakugo turned heel, and gave him a menacing glare—a snarl that held some demented glee, some unknown need to hurt him, in it. Izuku knew that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. He didn't want to listen. He wanted to just walk away and ignore Bakugo, but his lackey's weren't having it.
As soon as he turned to walk away, they blocked his exit, sending him a glare of their own, though it lacked the same intensity as Bakugo's.
Sighing, he turned to meet Bakugo's gaze. He couldn't leave, but he also didn't care to listen to Bakugo prattle on about something that he didn't—wouldn't allow himself—to be believe.
"You trying to leave, Deku?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a snide remark, but Izuku disregarded it all the same.
Bakugo wasn't happy with his unresponsiveness to his prompts, as apparent with his heated glare burning like an ember in the night, but he didn't comment on it. Instead he whipped his head back to the window before he spoke again.
"You know, Deku, I doubt this would work, because you're you," his voice was nonchalant, but there was an undertone of anger that Izuku didn't like, "but maybe, if you're lucky," Izuku hated the way he said 'lucky' as if it was something unattainable for him, "it might work."
Izuku scowled, he didn't trust anything Bakugo had to say, because he knew Bakugo rarely said anything that could be considered helpful.
"Maybe if you take a swan dive off the roof, you'll get a useful quirk in your next life." Bakugo laughed at his own words, not bothering to see his reaction to them as he turned and strode out of the room, his lackeys following suit.
Izuku stopped. All his thoughts went blank.
That wasn't…
How was that…
He couldn't respond to that—there wasn't a suitable response for that. He stood, staring at the window his notebook had been sent through, numb to the world.
He knew his quirk was a nuisance, that it did more harm than good… even so he had thought… would the world be better off… without him?
He shook his head aggressively at the thought. No. He had promised himself he wasn't going to go down that path again. He had made a vow that he was going to change his thinking—things were going to look better.
The glass was half full, not half empty. That's what he told himself. Everytime something happened: the glass was half full, not half empty.
Still… his quirk only ever caused pain for himself and those around him, could he even be a hero with something like that. Was that even a possibility?
It was, it had to be. He wasn't going to allow himself to think differently. The glass is half full.
Without really noticing it, he had started to leave the school. He made his way to the koi pond—just as luck would have it, his notebook had fallen into it and was now becoming fish food. He shooed the koi fish away, and grabbed the notebook.
It was just a useless mass of wet paper now, but Izuku didn't really care. Right now, he wasn't really thinking about anything, just trying to get a grip on the situation, and his own thoughts.
He was walking home, he knew that, but he wasn't very aware of anything—leading to him running into multiple poles, and a few trash cans—though that could have been his quirk at play too. His quirk tended to wander when he was like this, when his thoughts were waging a war, and he couldn't concentrate on anything.
Bakugo's statement had left him rattled. It wasn't that he actually believed Bakugo. He knew it was bluff, something said to get under his skin, and it had worked, just not for the reasons Bakugo had intended. Izuku had no intention of doing something so stupid—and suicidal—but the fact that Bakugo had thought that it was okay to say something like that, regardless of intentions, was what he couldn't understand.
Bakugo wanted to be a hero, didn't he? He had always pushed Izuku aside so that he could have all the attention—show everyone how much better he was—but this was… this went way past the line. Didn't Bakugo know that? Didn't he realize that or, was he so deluded in his own thoughts that he couldn't see that what he was doing was wrong?
He took a turn, leading him to a tunnel. The lighting dimmed, and he heard a rustling from behind him. He stopped and listened for another sound. Something about the air felt… off, a lingering danger that stilted the tunnel.
He didn't have time to react before something engulfed him in a slimy substance. It swiftly blocked off his airway, and filled his lungs.
He tried to break free, but it swallowed him up in a torrential wave of some blackish green muck.
Tearing at the substance did nothing to free him. His lungs were starting to burn, a vicious fire crawled up his throat as he struggled for breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears found there way down his face.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His struggling was becoming less and less wild, exhaustion taking over.
Is this the end? Is this how I die? On some random sidewalk on my way home from school? Mom… I'm so sorry.
"That's right kid, stop struggling. Give in, it'll be easier." The sinister, garbled voice of the slime substance—a villain—echoed throughout the tunnel.
There isn't anything I can do. There's just nothing I can—
No. I refuse. I can't give up, the glass is half full, not empty, I just need to think. I can't give up.
He opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. This was a villain attack, wasn't it? It had to be; this had to be a villain, Meaning, there had to be some kind of weakness.
He spotted an eye, a big yellow slit with red irises glaring down at him. It blinked once. His own fear filled gaze reflected in the slitted eye.
His vision started to go hazy, dimming in and out of focus, as he tried to think. He could move his hand—it was free from the villain's grip. He just needed to move it up a little more.
Come on, just a little further.
He would have to break free from the villain's grip on his forearm to move it how he needed to. He didn't have time to falter. He struggled to free his arm, it took a lot of effort, but he was able to tear his arm out just enough. He didn't have the luxury of time on his side. He would have to strike fast if he wanted this to work. He jabbed his hand into the eye of the villain. It felt… weird, to punch something square in the eye, but at the moment he didn't really care about the oddness of it.
It flinched, yowling in protest at being poked in the eye so crudely. In its screeching, it happened to smack its head on the ceiling of the tunnel they were in, which caused it to release its grip on him momentarily—not enough to free him— but it was enough for him to breath at least. He took a huge breath, reveling in the fresh air before the villain regained itself.
Just as the villain was about to suffocate him again there was a change in the air pressure, and Izuku wasn't in the villain's grip anymore.
"Fear not, kid, for I am here." He knew that voice.
He had idolized that voice for years; its booming tone and confident inflection had always inspired hope in him.
That voice belonged to All Might, the number one hero.
He watched in fascinated awe as All Might made quick work of the villain, capturing it in a two liter bottle.
"That was… amazing!" He was barely able to make the words come out in his awestruck state. He couldn't believe that he was seeing All Might here in the flesh and blood.
It wasn't possible—Izuku was not this lucky. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating, because his luck was never this good—it was never good in general.
All Might turned to him, his smile taking up most of his face, and his eyes shadowed, only the blue irises stood out from the darkness surrounding them. "I am glad you are alright, my boy. It seems I have gotten a little clumsy as you should never have been in the crossfire. Still, I never would have caught this villain if it weren't for you, so thank you."
Izuku didn't know what to say. All Might was his hero, his idol, and now he was thanking him? For being in the wrong place at the wrong time? It didn't make sense. There was no reason to be thanking him. He didn't even do anything. If anything, he was just glad he had been able to survive long enough for a hero to save him.
"Well, it was certainly nice meeting you, kid, but I must be off," he showcased the bottle that contained the villain, "I have to bring this guy in for questioning." He put the bottle in one of his pants pockets, and braced, ready to run off.
Izuku had a question for him though. He needed to ask this—even if the answer would break him. "All Might, wait—" he was running towards him now, not willing to let this opportunity to be passed up now that it was in front of him. He would never get a chance like this again. He knew that.
Before he could really comprehend what he was doing he had grabbed onto All Might just before he jumped.
In hindsight, it was a ridiculously stupid thing to do. He wasn't prepared for the wind pressure, and almost let go twice before they landed on the roof of a building.
The view was spectacular, a beautiful skyline of the city, but Izuku was too petrified over what he had just done to notice anything.
Izuku tried to wrap his head around the fact that he had just skyrocketed to the top of a building with All Might.
All Might was mumbling to himself. Though Izuku couldn't make out what he was saying. He had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with him hitching a ride off of him.
It took him a moment to gather himself and recall why, exactly, he had done something so incredibly stupid. That had been a terrible idea, but he wanted—needed—to ask him a question.
He gathered his wits, and stood up straight. He just had to say it—just ask it. That's all he had to do. Steeling his nerves he opened his mouth, "Can I-is it possible to become a hero if your quirk only hurts people?" He had asked it in a jittery, discombobulated tone, stuttering over multiple words and syllables.
"Whatever do you mean, kid?" All Might had turned to him now, gazing down at him with curiosity alight in his blue eyes.
"I mean-I just…" Izuku was at a loss for words, he didn't know how to explain it to his hero, "my quirk… all it's ever done is hurt people, and cause misfortune. It's nothing but a nuisance."
He looked up expecting to see the same distrust and hesitancy he had seen in the eyes of all adults once they had learned of his quirk, instead he found himself face-to-face with a skeleton of a man.
"Wha—? You deflated! Are you actually All Might or some kind of imposter?" Had he been wrong this entire time? It seemed his bad luck knew no bounds…
"I am All Might." The skeleton man deadpanned, smoke dispersing around him, before spitting up a blood.
Izuku found several things wrong with this situation, and he had several questions, most of which consisted of asking about the health of the man. Instead of asking them he said the first thing that came to mind, "I find that rather hard to believe!"
Izuku was in shock. He shouldn't be. This wasn't the first time he had met an imposter… it's just that this time, he really had seemed to be the real deal.
"You know, kid, sometimes people put on a front." The skeleton man, who claimed to be All Might, said defensively.
He sat down, lifting up his shirt to show Izuku a nasty scar that ran from his side up his chest.
"People are not always as they are made out to be online. See this kid," he gestured to the scar, "this is a wound I got five years ago… from an attack by a villain. My current appearance is because of the after affects of the multiple surgeries done to keep me alive."
That looked… really bad. He couldn't imagine what that fight must have been like to cause such a harrowing injury to a hero like All Might.
"You say you want to be a hero. Do you understand all that entails?" He asked somberly.
Izuku stared at him and swallowed thickly. He knew his quirk wasn't helpful, that it couldn't possibly help him in a fight… but there had to be something he could do, right? Bad luck had to be good for something… if he could learn to control it, maybe then it could be useful.
The skeleton man, or rather All Might, as he insisted he was, stared at him expectantly, but he didn't have an answer. He knew what hero work entailed, he knew what he was risking, but he couldn't articulate the words at the moment. Something stopped him.
"You say your quirk is a quirk that only causes pain and misfortune? I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean by that. Care to elaborate for me?" Curiosity weighed heavily in his tone, an uneasy foreboding filled the air.
" I don't want my kid going near him, he'll cause my kid to get hurt."
"Can you believe his mom lets him play with other children, knowing his quirk?"
"I don't want someone like him near me or my kids, ever. He's just a nuisance."
"He'll end up a villain with a quirk like that."
He wilted in on himself as the thoughts invaded his mind. The glass is half full, not empty, he reminded himself.
"I-I," Who would want to name a quirk like his anyway? It was more of a curse. He knew what it was, he knew what it did, but he had never given it a title"I cause bad luck to those around me… and to myself." He muttered the last part, but he knew All Might had heard him.
"You… cause bad luck?" All Might sounded… shocked to say the least. "That is… an interesting quirk—"
"So can I-I mean, is it possible to be a hero when all I do is spread misfortune? I just want to save people with a smile, like you." There was a desperate hope in his tone. He didn't like it; he hadn't meant to sound so pathetic.
The glass is half full, not empty.
"You say your quirk only causes misfortune among yourself and others. Heroes risk their lives everyday fighting villains. It's not something you can do recklessly. Any misstep could cost you your life. It's admirable that you want to help people, but caution must be exercised. So, no… I don't think it's possible for someone with a quirk like yours to be a hero."
Izuku stared at him, his eyes shattering like glass as the brilliant green hue gave way to a jaded dull green.
The glass was't half full… it was empty.
"O-oh," he looked at the ground, "I see." He knew that was the logical answer. Someone who became a burden during a fight couldn't be a hero. What he said was true and Izuku knew it, but the words still hurt—they crushed him.
He didn't bother to look up into the eyes of All Might. He didn't care to see the pity that no doubt lay embedded in those blue orbs.
"If helping people is what you're after, there are other ways to help. Become a police officer or paramedic. Though not as praised as a hero, it is an admirable occupation." All Might was leaving now, he could hear the footsteps going to the door, "It's not bad to dream kid, just be careful not to mix reality with wishful thinking." He was out the door.
Izuku stood there, looking at the ground for a few moments. He knew that was what All Might would say—he knew his quirk couldn't help people… but even so… even so… he wanted nothing more than to be a hero.
On his way to the door he tripped—that would make three times today. It didn't hurt, he was used to it. His body was numb.
Everything was detached, washed out, and drowning in the ever present sea of doubt that had always followed him. Now, he had nothing to keep the doubt at bay. The metaphorical glass was no longer there, it had shattered, along with his dreams, the moment All Might declared that he couldn't be a hero.
Guidelessly, he ambled down the stairs, stumbling down the last few flights. He had no destination in mind as he trudged forward, letting his feet guide him as he traversed the streets.
He wasn't sure where he was going, nor did he care. Right now, he needed to be away from everything, and so he walked about aimlessly.
An explosion was what finally grabbed his attention. It had come from a few blocks away. He should leave it be, let the heroes deal with it, but his feet stopped. Something tugged at him—some unknown feeling from his chest ached at the thought of leaving, of forgetting his dreams.
His walk turned into a run. He needed to go there, he didn't know why, but he had to. He didn't have control over himself. A surge of excitement and apprehension washed over him. He needed to see what was happening.
His legs led him—for once without stumbling over anything—to the scene of the explosion.
He stopped.
His eyes went wide at the sight laid out before him. The slime villain stood, away from the crowd, with fires laden around him in a ring… he was free, not in custody, where he should have been. All Might had captured him though… he had seen it, but then why was he here?
Unless… somehow he had gotten out. All Might wouldn't be so careless as to let a Villain escape. However, if he were to be distracted, then it might have been possible for the Villain to escape. The only time he had been distracted though had been when he was talking to… He realized that All Might had been distracted by him; he had been the reason the villain escaped.. He distracted All Might and let the villain escape—once again, his bad luck has caused more harm than good. Now, the villain had escaped and began terrorizing the city again, but then… where did the fire come from?
He heard a scream, some feral snarl that sounded familiar. He looked closely at the slime villain. There was something—someone—trapped within the monstrous villain.
Red eyes like embers in the night glare at him, they were familiar, but different. Before, where they had burned brightly with arrogance, alight with a determined flame that bowed to no one, now they stared hopelessly in true terror.
Bakugo was scared.
He hadn't ever seen Bakugo like this. For the first time, Bakugo looked afraid, a humbleness adorned his face. It didn't belong there.
Bakugo, the person who had only mere hours ago told him to jump off the school roof, was staring at him in a fear crazed panic. It didn't matter that Bakugo was Izuku's tormentor, that he shouldn't feel obligated to save him, because at that moment, Bakugo needed to be saved. He may be a terrible person, but no part of Izuku felt that he deserved to die. Bakugo, for however much of an asshole he made himself out to be, he was still a kid.
He looked around, searching for heroes, someone to save Bakugo from the villain. There were none, or rather, no one had stepped up to the plate. A few looked around anxiously, obviously waiting for a more suitable hero to rush in and help, but none did. Why? Weren't they heroes?
He saw their hesitance, their reluctance to move forward. He could feel the heat from the flames from where he stood.
The fire raged, clawing at the sky relentlessly, black smoke leaving their fingertips and ascending into the air. These flames, Izuku realized, weren't caused by the villain. These were flames that Bakugo had caused in his panic stricken state.
Bakugo had been taken captive, and nobody had tried to save him. What were these heroes playing at? This wasn't right… Bakugo may be a prick—that was an understatement—but he didn't deserve to die. He didn't deserve to be abandoned like this.
There had to be something Izuku could do. He could—
The glass is half empty.
He couldn't do anything. His quirk would only cause more strife.
His quirk made him a nuisance. He couldn't be a hero with it.
"Izuku, I want you to remember this. No matter how bad things get, you have to look at the positives, okay. I know your quirk makes that hard, but you just have to stay optimistic," his mother said kindly.
He had just turned five. No one had come to his birthday party—they had been afraid something bad would happen if they did. He had been upset. He had just wanted friends, but every time he made an effort to befriend a classmate something happened that caused them to stay away from him.
He had come to learn that it wasn't just his quirk that was bad luck; he was bad luck.
"Optimistic?" he had asked, curiosity floating in his bright green eyes.
"Yes, Izuku, optimistic. It means to always look on the bright side. There's this saying." She turned away from him, and went to the kitchen to grab something. He waited for her to return. She does, with a glass of water. She bent down to his level, and gave him the glass. "Izuku, tell me something. Is this glass half full or half empty?"
He stared at the glass, trying to understand what she meant. "It's half empty isn't it? Because half of it is gone?" He didn't know what she wanted him to say.
"Izuku, honey, look at me." She looked at him with a warm smile, "You aren't wrong, there is only half a glass here, but the way you think about it tells a lot about you. An optimist would say the glass is half full, because it means that there is room for more. Saying the glass is half empty is like saying you can only ever take away from the glass. Do you understand?"
He didn't, but he had nodded anyway.
It wasn't until a few years later, after the… incident, that he started to understand. He couldn't view the world as he was. His quirk made everything pessimistic, so he had to be the optimism, because life wouldn't give him it.
If he was going to view the glass it had to be half full, otherwise he was giving into his quirk. He couldn't do that. There was more to life than that—there had to be. The glass was half full.
There had to be something he could do. His legs had started to move him through the crowd. They weren't obeying his commands. He had to think of a plan before he was out in the open. He didn't have much time to analyze the situation—Bakugo didn't have that kind of time. No other heroes were going to save him.
This was his chance to do something. He was almost at the edge of the crowd now.
Scanning the ground he found a few pieces of debris.
He could use that.
He just needed… if he ran up to it, and hit its weak spot… the eye.
He needed to hit the eye.
How good was his aim? Could he even hit the eye if he threw something? Besides, if he tried to run he would trip… he had to account for everything that could go wrong the moment he stepped foot past the crowd.
Maybe… could he force himself to be unlucky? Surely, he could activate his quirk, right? The debris, it wasn't more than a few meters away from the slime villain. He could feint tripping… fall into a roll—he was good at that. He's fallen enough to know how to make it not look like an accident.
He had never forced his quirk to activate. When would he ever need bad luck? Though… maybe it could be helpful. If he could force himself to trip right before the villain, then… He didn't have time to think anymore. Bakugo's struggling had lessened considerably. He was finally at the edge of the crowd, and his legs were still moving.
Without any hesitance, he ran out into the fray, focusing solely on his plan. It had to work. It just had to. He concentrated on his quirk, on the manifestation of his bad luck, trying to send it out in waves. He was going to make this work.
The villain noticed him. It sent out a slime in his direction. He weaved his way around it. He was light on his feet, something that would be odd for him under normal circumstances, but right now he didn't have time to dwell on it. For now, he just focused on his plan.
As if on cue, he tripped, the villain's movements stopped, his didn't. He was expecting this. The villain was not. That split second of indecision by the villain, when its eyes went wide, gave Izuku his opening.
His fall turned into a roll, and he grabbed for a piece of debris—it helped that there was an abundance of it everywhere. He took the bit of rubble, a sizeable chunk of concrete, and hurled it at the villain. It landed square in the eye of the villain, which caused the villain to flinch and loosen his grip on Bakugo.
Izuku ran up to Bakugo, scrambling against the visceral sewage that covered the slime villain. The liquid like substance was difficult to tear apart, it kept reforming, but he still tried to rip it off and free Bakugo.
"What are you doing here, idiot?" Bakugo shouted at him.
"I-I just couldn't leave you-my legs just started moving, and I knew I had to do something. I saw you there, calling out for help, and I-I couldn't do nothing." Izuku didn't really know why he had opted to save Bakugo, all he knew was that his legs had moved on their own. The moment he has seen Bakugo, captured by the villain, he didn't have a choice; he had to help in some way.
The slime villain was regathering itself, preparing its counter strike. Just as it was about to launch its attack, there was a change in air pressure.
Out of seemingly no where, All Might showed up. He didn't waste any time, and ended the battle with his iconic attack.
"DETROIT SMASH!" His voice rang throughout the area.
The clouds themselves warped and twisted in response to his punch; rain washed down on them, drenching them in a coolness that juxtaposed the previous heat of the area.
Cheers rang out from the crowd as All Might pumped his fist in the air, a declaration of his victory.
The villain was hauled off by some police officers, and things were calming down.
Izuku sat, zoning out as some heroes scolded him for his reckless behavior. He wanted to lash out at them, to tell them that he was doing their job for them, but he held his tongue. He knew when to keep his mouth shut.
It irked him that Bakugo was praised for his quirk while he, the one who actually freed Bakugo from the villain, was berated. Though, he supposed, that was just his luck.
Eventually, they let him go, telling him to not get himself caught up in anymore villain fights.
He walked home silently.
Overall, today had been… weird. He wouldn't say the day had been good by any standards, but it wasn't all bad. He still needed to apologize to All Might for causing the slime villain to escape that first time.
"Hey, you good for nothing nerd!" he jumped slightly at Bakugo's aggressive tone. He hadn't heard anyone walking up behind him, but then again, he hadn't really been paying attention. He turned to meet Bakugo, who was standing a good ten meters away from him, at the edge of the neighborhood.
The air between them was thick, tension building up with each passing second.
Bakugo didn't give him a chance to respond before he went on a tirade, "Just get this through your thick skull, I didn't ask for your dumb ass to come and save me, okay! I didn't need you to save me, you pathetic cursed nerd! I may owe you now, but don't think this changes anything. You're still a nobody!" There was something odd in his voice, an emotion that Izuku couldn't discern immediately. Anger and hatred were dominant in his tone, but there were lingering traces of jealousy in his there as well.
Bakugo stormed off, not waiting to see if he had a response. Izuku didn't know what to say. He didn't regret saving Bakugo, even if he was an asshole with an ego the size of a mountain. He was still a person.
He smiled bitterly. Even if he had saved Bakugo, it didn't matter. Bakugo would always hate him, no matter what he did. Izuku was nothing more than curse in his eyes.
He turned around, intent to continue on his way home and just sleep. So much had happened today. He needed to sort through his thoughts.
Izuku went home, sighing as he opened the door. His mom tried to start a conversation with him, but he wasn't feeling up to it. He went to his room, and collapsed on his bed.
This was it, he couldn't be a hero. It didn't matter how optimistic he had been, none of that mattered if he refused to acknowledge reality. Bad luck had no business trying to be a hero. It was time he faced reality. The glass may be half full, but that didn't mean it was enough to change reality.
He couldn't be a hero.
Toshinori ran anxiously through the streets, filled with trepidation as he searched for that kid—he hadn't even gotten the his name. He needed to talk to him.
He was ashamed of himself. His actions on the roof had been diluted, misguided. They had been the words of a jaded person, not him. He should know better—he thought he was better than that.
He turned the corner of one of the neighborhoods. He was sure he had seen the kid walking in this direction, but he couldn't see him anywhere. Still he continued to search—he had to find him and right the wrongs he had done.
He turned another corner, hoping he would see them, but it was empty. He knew he had seen him go off in this direction…
Just as luck would have it, he must have just missed him.
That kid… even with a quirk like his, one that would no doubt work against him, had run out at the villain in order to save that other boy, the one with the explosive quirk.
He had seen how the heroes on the scene had berated the kid for trying to help. They were hypocrites, yelling at him for being a nuisance when they hadn't even tried to help the boy that was taken hostage by the villain.
He wanted to set things right, tell the kid that even if what he had done was reckless, it had proved that he had the heart of a true hero.
His only problem was finding him.
He needed to find the kid, right the wrongs he had undoubtedly done to him. That kid had the makings of a true hero and maybe… just maybe he could be the next holder of One for All.
He continued his search, determined to find the kid and apologize.
AN: I hope you enjoyed that. :DDD Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you thought of it. This was new for me and I'm trying new things, so I know the writing isn't the best, but it'll get better!
Until next time,
Vera~