Chapter 199 - 1-3

Chapter 1: Quirkless

200 years ago, the first ever recorded quirk came from a glowing baby. No one knows why or how. Only that the number of cases multiplied. In just a few years, quirks became the norm.

Everyone at the age of 4 developed a quirk. Exactly 4 years. Some almost reached the age of 5 before they got one, but not after 5. Again, there was no explanation. And no one seemed to care why. They were too focused on the quirks themselves. Comparing who had a cooler or stronger quirk. But one man cared.

Tobey McGuire. A scientist that worked closely with the Justice League, the first recognized group of heroes.

Upon closer study, McGuire found that the quirk factor was a dormant gene. It was always inside of them, just needed time to manifest and bloom. Some manifested emitter types. Some repeated; a copy of their parents' quirk. Some mutated. Others...others were made.

BAM! The table skids, falling onto its side. The papers atop flying to add to the ever-mounting pile on the floor.

"Why isn't it working!?" The man screeches, his lab coat being bundled and tossed aside.

"I rechecked my calculations! Everything. Is. Perfect!" He pounds his fists into his hand with each word. "It should work!" He storms over to his portal entrance, a hexagonal hole he drilled into the wall, encased in metal and wiring.

"This is the perfect place where the door between dimensions is thinnest. So, why" He pounds onto the metal.

"Aren't"

Pound.

"You!"

Pound.

"Working!"

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! An alarm goes off. He whips his head over to the red blaring light. He moves to his security cameras. A group of men surround his building, some armed, others needing only to wait for their target to unleash their quirk. He growls, aggressively clicking on the comms.

"Not now!"

"Time's up, doc." The leader of the group speaks up to the camera.

"I'll have your money soon! So, go away, you're disturbing me!"

"That's not going to happen. You either come with us, or we destroy everything." The man lifts a hand pointedly, placing it on the building wall. It glows red then white. The metal creaking and smoking.

"Boss' orders." He grins with a wink.

"I'm coming!" The man grabs his coat, rushing to the doors.

"Good choice." The leader pivots back to his awaiting car.

"You need to be realistic kid."

Those were the last words Izuku heard before being left alone.

He didn't move. The noises below the rooftop were muffled. His eyes looked out into the city, but he could not see. His shadow slowly moved in tune with the setting sun.

He was drowning. His body sinking with a heavy weight. He's not sure if he's even breathing.

A bird flutters close by, soaring past him. His eyes follow it, but his view is blocked. His hand is in the way. He reached out for it unconsciously. He slowly drops his arm back to his side.

What would it be like, to fly?

A question asked more than once. Part of his constant stream of thoughts on the "what if's" in life.

What if he had his mom's attraction quirk?

What if he had his dad's fire breathing quirk?

What if he could run super-fast? Jump super high? Shoot lasers out of his eyes?

The possibilities were endless. But he'd always come back to flying.

He'd dream he was like All Might. Jumping to the next prefecture in a single leap. He'd dream he was like Kacchan, using his explosions to propel himself in the air.

One recurring dream was of simply lifting off the ground as a leaf would in the wind. Rising high above the clouds. Above the noise. Above the people. Above everything. Just him and the clouds around him. A place where no one could touch him.

Harm him.

A place to be free and weightless.

But reality sets in and he crashes.

He always wakes up.

He feels hot liquid pour down his face. He brings his fingers up to wipe. It comes back wet.

"Stupid, Deku." He croaks low. "Always crying."

"Be realistic."

The voice makes him gasp as if in pain. He covers his ears, but the words are trapped inside his mind. Torturing him in an endless cycle from the moment he touched onto the rootop.

"I'm sorry," All Might croaked at him, coughing blood into his hands. The hero shrank before Izuku's eyes, taking on a skinnier sickly form. His eyes and cheeks sunken. His clothes hanging off him, ten sizes too big. A shell of what he used to be. The hero's, no the world's greatest secret, laid bare by a chance encounter of a quirkless fan boy having been rescued from a sludge villain.

"But without a quirk," All Might continues, "you can't be a hero."

The words pierced as painfully as they did the first time he heard them. He drops onto his legs, holding his face in his hands as he weeps.

"Why?!" His shouts come out muffled. "Why was I born quirkless?! Why me?! What did I do to deserve this?!" His hands move over his head, clutching his hair.

He knew life wasn't fair to him. He checked all the boxes for the reasons a kid would be bullied.

He was born prematurely. He was short and scrawny. He had freckles. He lived in a single parent household. He didn't have any friends. He mumbled. And the worst thing, the thing that condemned him in this wretched life, was he was quirkless.

Even animals developed quirks! Yet he did not.

Something his mother apologized for. The reason that his father left them. The main reason he was ostracized and bullied. The reason his childhood friend became his worst tormentor in school.

The reason All Might...told him he couldn't be a hero.

Deep down, he always knew. There was no way a quirkless nobody could be a hero. But he had hope.

"As long as you give it all your might, you too can be a hero!"

That's what All Might said. He said it so it must be true.

But it was all a lie. An empty statement said to the interviewer for good publicity.

He should have never met All Might. He should have never asked him that stupid question.

But he did.

He wanted, so badly, for someone to tell him he could be a hero. Who better than his favorite hero?

The strongest man on the planet. The man who smiled in the face of adversity. The man who made him feel like getting out of bed in the mornings. In his ever-present darkness, there All Might shined as a beacon, a light.

By some misfortune, Izuku was almost killed by a sludge villain. Then by some miracle, he was saved by All Might. It was a dream come true. He had to ask him before he left. The man larger than life. His hero.

Could a quirkless boy like him be a hero?

But All Might told him no.

The very same hero that saved him in turn crushed him. His light being snuffed out. All that he thought of All Might coming down in a torn veil. The smile replaced with a heavy frown. The strength temporary, his true form being a gaunt man close to death. Putting on a façade for the public, delaying his inevitable retirement.

Izuku's world shattered and broke. He'd rather have died that day by the hands of the sludge villain, than be rescued and know the truth of All Might.

But he can't go back in time.

He lowers his hands, rolling his head on his knees to stare at the cement rooftop.

Should I just stay here? He languidly thinks. Why should he get up? Would anyone even care if he was gone?

His phone rings. It seems to go on forever. He's not sure if it's still ringing or if it's just the echo of it staying in his head.

Then his phone chimes. With great effort, does he slide his hand in his pocket to check his message.

"I'll be at the store. Do you need anything?" His mother's asks.

His mother! He whips his head to the door of the rooftop.

She still needs me! He reaches his hand out in a crawl. He fumbles into a run, stumbling towards the entrance.

Does she?

The question whispers in his ears, as if carried by the wind itself. A small seed of doubt but with deep roots that'd always been in his mind since he was 7 years old.

His body slows to a halt. His fingers hover above the handle.

Stop! He shakes his head.

Jerking the door open, he strides inside down the steps. His mother chose to raise him despite him being born quirkless. She struggled to keep him alive. He wouldn't do something to throw her efforts to waste. And despite their distance, she somehow still cares for him. If he died, that'd be more grief on her already aching heart. He can't do that to her.

He texts his mother that he doesn't need anything and heads home. It's the same route home but the walk seemed longer. Tiring. The urge to lay down and curl up into a ball, mighty. Yet, somehow, like he always has, he pushes through.

He enters his apartment and heads straight to his room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Yanking his clothes off, he changes into some shorts and t-shirt then throws himself in bed. Laying belly down, he turns his head to the side to type a quick message to his mom.

-I already ate and am going to sleep early. Goodnight-

Okay, is all she replies.

No questions of concern. No prying him for information. Just simple responses. Just the way it should be. It'll only hurt them both if he says anything.

Pressing himself against the wall, he curls into a ball. He pulls his blanket over his face and nestles in.

He thought the events of the day would keep him up the whole night. The poisonous words replaying in his head. All Might's body looming over him like a dark shadow. No longer bringing the feeling of safety and comfort.

That rooftop.

But it doesn't.

He falls asleep almost immediately. A dreamless dead sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up feeling sick. He slept through his alarms and could barely keep his eyes open, his body heavy-laden. He has half a mind to stay home, but he doesn't want to be an uneducated delinquent on top of being quirkless. So, he pulls himself up and gets ready for school.

Time sneaks past him. Something as simple as brushing his teeth became all time consuming. Taking his uniform in hand felt weighted. Every button he closed seemed to restrict his lungs further. Just this once, he left the top button opened.

Glancing at his clock he sees he's five minutes over his usual time to leave the apartment.

He hates being late.

Being late meant more attention to him. It's never good to get more attention.

He hurries to school keeping his eyes down or on his phone. The closer he gets to school the heavier his feet feel. A greater anxiousness builds in his chest. His hands squeeze onto the straps of his backpack.

Please, he bites on his lip. Please let nothing happen today. At least for today.

"Everyone take your seats." Mr. Yamcha strolls in, slamming a stack of papers on his desk.

"You all are 3rd years now so you have to start thinking seriously of your future. I could pass out career aptitude tests, but I know you all want to be heroes!" He tosses the papers in the air.

"Yeah!" The class shouts, some releasing their quirks in enthusiasm.

"Don't lump me in with these extras!" Bakugo shouts.

"Ah, yes. You applied to UA didn't you?" Mr. Yamcha scans his papers for Bakugo's.

"You'll get in for sure. No competition." Someone says.

"Oh, and Midoriya did too."

Silence.

"Huh?" Izuku belatedly tunes into the conversation, finding the prolonged silence startling.

"DEKU!" Bakugo blows up Izuku's desk.

"Kacchan!" Izuku falls harshly on his tailbone. He moves away from the approaching beast until his back hits the wall. Even still, he pushes against it, hoping the wall would swallow him up.

He forgot he applied to UA. He didn't think anyone would mention it either. But he should have known better. His teacher loves to torment him as much as his peers.

"You think you can get into the same place as me?!" Kacchan spits, loathing the idea. "They won't accept a quirkless loser like you!"

Not true. There's no rule against quirkless becoming heroes, but he can't tell that to Kacchan. It'd just be longer yelling or maybe even an explosion to his face. Instead, he just quietly takes the degradation.

"You're just a Deku!" Kacchan kicks him in the stomach. Izuku's eyes widen in pain, but he refuses to make a noise. He won't give them the satisfaction.

"Don't even think about showing up to the entrance exam, unless you want to die, you hear me?!"

The class laughs and jeers at him.

"All right," The teacher drawls, "let's get back on task. Midoriya stop distracting others and pick up your desk."

Everyone goes to sit down, but Izuku takes a few seconds, picking his stuff up. The rest of the day goes by slowly. Agonizingly slow. The minute hand seemed to drag its feet.

By the time the bell sounds for the end of day, he's ready for an early sleep again.

"Deku."

Guess not. His body instinctively trembles at the sound of Kacchan's voice. He slowly turns his head and sees Kacchan's lackeys at the door. Hajima and Okainu. They used to be his friends too.

"You're not going to show up to the exam, right?" Kacchan smiles all too friendly, placing a hand on his shoulder. The familiar warmth of the hand begins to burn his clothing. Whisps of smoke rising into the air.

Normally the hand would ignite with the telltale

POP!

Of his explosions, but this is just another one of Kacchan's intimidation tactics. A threat for what they both know follows from the smolder. It was well received.

"Ha!" Kacchan shoves him. Izuku stumbles into his desk, catching himself.

"Still pathetic. Can't even look me in the eyes." Kacchan laughs. Izuku's hands claw at the desk but otherwise doesn't react. Kacchan scoffs sliding his hands in his pockets as he walks to the sliding doors.

"Hey," Kacchan stops, glancing back. "If you really want to be a hero…" Izuku's eyebrows twitch, his ears tuning in.

"Why don't you take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk in your next life?"

Izuku whips his head up to lock eyes with angry red ones.

"What?" Kacchan growls.

Izuku head drops back down.

"I thought so." He scoffs, slamming the door on his way out.

Izuku stares at the floor in abject horror. All Might may have been someone he admired and wanted to be. But Kacchan was the one always with him. He was cruel and hurtful, but he was the embodiment of strength. He had an amazing quirk. He was talented. He was smart. He was driven. He was popular. He was everything Izuku wasn't.

And Kacchan was going to be an amazing hero.

And...he was his childhood friend. They swore to be heroes together. But Izuku broke that promise. He didn't develop a quirk.

He knew that wasn't his fault, but deep down, he couldn't help but blame himself for Kacchan's behavior. And Kacchan wasn't that bad. He wanted to be a hero afterall.

Despite his obvious hate for Izuku, Kacchan would never go too far with the abuse. If someone was beating Izuku up, Kacchan would show up and yell at all of them to stop making so much noise. And, no matter how much Kacchan would punch him, push him, or blast him with his quirk, Izuku knew he'd never actually really hurt him. Or wish him dead.

But once again.

He was wrong.

And he can't...he can't handle that. Not this.

His walk out of the school was languid. His steps echoing in the quiet halls. He stops outside of the school and looks out into the street. Cars pass him by. People cross his path. Life goes on. Whether he's there to see it or not. His mom...

His mom's life will go on, just fine without him. Probably better.

Sure, she might feel sad for a while, but she'll move on. And if anything—

NO! He squeezes his eyes shut.

No! He runs. He doesn't know where, but he has to run.

"Take a swan dive off the roof."

Shut up! He runs faster.

"Be realistic."

"Stop it!" He skids to a stop, slamming his hands over his ears. His thoughts seem to listen this time, quieting. He slowly lowers his hands, opening his eyes.

He finds himself at the edge of a forest, the city behind him. He looks between the two. He doesn't want to go back home. Not yet. His feet move forward. He pushes into the opening of the broken fence surrounding the forest and steps inside.

As he walks a memory resurfaces into mind.

"Come on follow me!" Kacchan smiles, raising his little red flag as he leads his friends through the fence that clearly said no trespassing. But they all follow Kacchan anyway, because it's Kacchan. They come upon a river. A fallen trunk makes a bridge over it to the other side. Kacchan steps on it first, wanting to continue his adventurous journey. The others follow behind, a bit hesitant.

Kacchan laughs at them for being scared. His shoe steps onto a mossy patch of the trunk. He slips and falls.

"Katsuki!" They shriek in alarm. They drop onto their hands and knees to look down.

"Katsuki are you okay?!" Akira shouts.

"That's a long way down!" Ken pales.

"It's okay." Tsubasa stands. "It's Katsuki. Something like this wouldn't hurt him."

The other two ponder it a moment, then smile.

"You're right!"

"Haha!" Kacchan laughs, where he sits on his butt on the rocks. His hands are scraped and his butt hurts with his shorts feeling uncomfortably wet, but he smiles anyway.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Kacchan waves. "I'll climb up in a second."

"Kacchan!" Izuku treks through the water to him. "Are you okay? That was scary." He extends a hand to him.

Kacchan's freezes, staring at Izuku's hand. His eyes begin to burn. He feels a rage bubble inside.

SMACK!

"Stupid Deku!" Kacchan stands up affronted. "I'm fine! I don't need your help!" He pushes Izuku onto his butt, storming past him.

Izuku furiously wipes his tears from the memory. He can still feel the phantom sting on his hand from it being slapped away.

Why wasn't I like everyone else? 

Since that day, his relationship with Kacchan truly soured. By 6th grade, they had completely fallen out. Kacchan wanted nothing to do with him, verbally and physically pushing him away. Izuku was more than fine to be separated from him, but somehow the two always found themselves together. In the same class or because Kacchan was prowling close by.

He bites his lip in a frown.

He doesn't know why he's thinking about this. It won't do him any good. He wipes at his face and tries to focus on what's in front of him.

Trees. Twigs. Grass. Flowers. Bunnies. A building.

A building?

He backtracks, looking ahead at the small mountain with a building attached to it. He walks towards it like a moth to the flame.

It's a plain building. No windows. Lots of security cameras. Looks important enough for a whole swat team to bust out the bushes and tackle him the moment he stepped within the area.

But no alarms have sounded and no one has come to escort him off the property. Might be because alarms will bring unwanted attention. Now that he looks at the building more closely it seems like a secret base.

Maybe for villains?

He runs his hands along the door and pushes it. It opens.

Unlocked?

Maybe not a secret base?

He walks inside, holding the door open.

"Hello." His voice echoes. No one answers. He pauses for a while longer, trying to hear any sound of movement. Hearing nothing, he lets the door close. It sounds with a resounding ka-chang taking all the light away. He turns on the flashlight from his phone and begins to explore.

The first open room was a lounge area, with couches and a kitchen.

It's not abandoned, he infers, taking note of the warm coffee pot and piled dishes in the kitchen sink.

He walks to a hallway with three rooms. One looks like a bedroom. The other is a storage closet. The last one seems to be the main room.

It is massive. Probably 80% of the building. There are gadgets and tools and blueprints and coffee scattered about. The words portals and dimensions appear often. Lots of monitors and screens with equations and pictures of worm holes and gates or doorways are displayed.

This is a lab, he concludes. About—he picks up a handful of papers on the floor to look through—opening portals to different dimensions?

He had dreams of such a thing. Living in a world where quirks didn't exist. Or a world where knights were still a thing with dragons flying in the air.

It'd be nice if other dimensions really existed. Or maybe not? Who knows? The other dimensions may be worse.

He winces from a sharp light. Something reflected in the dark. He adjusts his phone and finds a hexagon hole in the wall lined with metal, a yellow and black caution strip encircling it. He walks towards it. Recalling the direction he walked in from, it seems to be dug on the side where the mountain rests behind. The temperature seems to change the closer he gets to it. Feeling colder at its entrance. He can almost...feel a slight breeze.

He steps up close, studying the opening and brushing his hands along the cautionary tape.

Something green flickers at the corner of his eye. He shines his phone in the hole. Nothing. Eyebrow lifted, he moves one foot, stepping inside.

Nothing happens. He brings his other foot inside. He's not sure why he feels disappointed that the thing wasn't booby trapped, but he is. He glances around a couple minutes before feeling satisfied with his exploring. He turns to walk out the hole, but stops, seeing a switch at the top of the hole's entrance, under the lip of the caution strip.

Against his better judgement his finger pushes the switch.

His eyes are blinded by a white and green light. At the same time an overbearing pressure slams into him from all sides.

And then...

More pain than he's ever experienced in his life floods his senses.

Chapter 2: Am I dead?

The first thing he feels is soreness. A near painful soreness. His face feels numb and smushed. He slowly opens his eyes. He's on the floor. His eyes come into focus on his hand. He wiggles it in test. Seems fully functional. He then looks past his hand at the metal surfaces surrounding him. He brings his knee up, using his arm to push onto his butt as he takes in his surroundings.

He's still in the hole.

The switch! He looks up. It's pressed to the other side. That must have been the on switch.

That's poor design, he exhales, hoisting himself up.

He takes one step and falls on his face again.

"Ow," He murmurs with his cheek squished on the floor. He rolls over to see what tripped him.

His breath catches.

His foot is gone.

Not gone, gone. He feels it. It's still there, but he can't see it. Just a strange clear outline of his foot. He brings a shaky hand to it. He makes real contact.

"Wah!" He flinches back. His breathing comes in short, bordering on a panic attack. He stares at his strange transparent foot, blinking rapidly to see if something was wrong with his eyes. Of course, his eyesight was fine, but he couldn't trust it at the moment. Feeling bold but cautious, he brings a hand back to touch hit foot again.

Still there.

SMACK!

"It's not a dream," He rubs at his red cheek. Then he falls sideways on his head.

THUNK! The hit is muffled by the cement floor absorbing the impact.

A creeping dread climbs up his spine at the familiar feeling he had just a second ago with falling on his face. His eyes slowly roam down to his arm, following it section by section, bicep, forearm, then...nothing.

His hand is gone.

And it's inside the floor.

"WAH!" He whips his hands up starting at it in horror as he awkwardly slides back on his butt with his one good hand. The missing hand looks to be in the same outlined transparency as his foot. His eyes bore into it, wondering if he stares long enough, it'll somehow come back to normal, but it stays like it is. Transparent. Invisible. And...

He swallows, cautiously bringing the hand back to the cement floor. He hesitates for a second before pushing it against it. His hand goes right through and stops at the beginning of his forearm.

Intangibility?! His eyes bulge. He glances down at his foot. He tries to do the same thing as with his hand, but it knocks against the cement, very tangibly.

As strange as is his hand being intangible.

He carefully maneuvers to stand, leaning on his good side before allowing pressure onto his invisible foot. It holds solid. He takes some tentative steps. He still doesn't fall through the ground and no other limb does anything crazy either.

Hmm. He tilts his head, staring at his foot then stomps it on the ground a few times. He jumps a little when his foot comes back. Or at least comes back into visibility. The same with his hand.

He waits for something else to happen, not wanting to fall again. Nothing does. He just kind of stands there his eyes blinking at the absurdity of it all. Then he stills.

He glances side to side, wondering if someone—in this empty building in the middle of a restricted forest area—had seen the shebacle. Relief washes over him when he confirms that he is still alone giving him the okay for having acted foolish.

He walks back to the hole to pick up his dropped phone. He slides it in his pocket and begins to walk out. Once he's at the entrance of the lab, he freezes. His hand gripping the door knob.

He looks back over his shoulder, then at the floor, then whips his head all around looking at everything.

I can see in the dark?????

He just walked around the place without his phone's light. And didn't struggle.

How? Why? Did some low beam lights turn on? No, no. He shakes his head.

Maybe his eyes just adjusted, he thinks as he looks around the sink area. He can see everything perfectly, picking up a dirty mug.

Sleep is for the weak, it reads in perfect legible visible writing.

Because his eyes adjusted, he repeats in his head, while setting the mug down.

Yeah, that's it, he nods. He pulls out his phone to light the rest of his path. He barely touches the handle to the front door when everything turns a brilliant white.

Then an earthquaking explosion blows him and the building to kingdom come.

The building's ceiling and walls had crashed down. Fire blazes high into the sky, licking every bit of the building and mountain. As for him.

He stands with his hand still positioned to open the door.

A silent scream had blared inside him; breath held in terror as soon as he saw the light. And even now, not a single noise escapes his lips as he stands in the middle of the raging fire.

A fire that doesn't burn him.

Not a sting or feeling of warmth. The fact that he's standing upright despite the building coming down on him is alarming in and of itself. But he may know why.

He scrunches his neck into his chest to stare at his torso. A huge piece of the ceiling is protruding right through him yet he's completely fine. No bleeding. No pain. He looks at his limbs and sees the faint outline he saw before when he found his leg missing.

He's completely invisible. And intangible. Everything except the soles of his feet, probably why he doesn't fall straight through the earth.

Another explosion goes off.

This time, he decides to listen to normal thought processing and bodily instincts and runs from the clear and present danger.

He heads back in the general direction he came from passing right through trunks and bushes. His frantic run comes to a less frantic one when he sees the edge of the city limits.

By the time he steps out the forest, his body is back to normal. He only noticed because he suddenly saw fleshy peach skin. He didn't know what he'd do if he was still invisible, so he's grateful for one less thing to stress about.

He rushes home, constantly checking his hand to see if he turns invisible again. Thankfully, he makes it home without incident. Seeing all the lights off except for the restroom light means his mother is already in bed. However, as soon as he walks to his room, he hears her get up. Her door clicks open and she peeks out to look at him.

"AH!"

"WHAT?!" Izuku jumps at her shriek. She runs out her room and turns on the hallway light.

"You, you're…" She points vaguely at his face.

"What, what is it?" He panics, touching his face. Is there blood? Is there soot? He stares at her impatiently.

What, what is it woman! What?!

"Sorry." She exhales, rubbing her eyes with her fingers. "I thought I saw…no, never mind." She waves, turning to her room.

"Sorry. Goodnight." She says. Her door closing with a soft click.

He touches his face, hesitating a bit as he glances between her door and the restroom. He takes a short breath then decides to dismiss the reaction. Out of curiosity though, he briefly glances in the restroom mirror, in case he did have something on his face. Bits of dirt and a small cut on his lip from falling on his face. Nothing so alarming to cause his mom to scream.

Maybe she just didn't expect him to be standing in the hallway staring back at her?

He carefully takes off his uniform and puts it in the laundry basket to wash later. Turning on the hot water he steps into the shower, washing all the sweat and dirt from the long day. With a towel around his waist, he walks to his room, then slips on a fresh set of clothes and crawls into bed. Falling over on his back with a loud exhale, he stares up at his ceiling, recalling the lab.

He lifts his hand to stare at it, flipping it over. It's still there. Completely visible and tangible.

From how he blacked out and fell on the floor, twice, and not to mention his...emotions from earlier in the day, he can't trust that what he experienced was entirely real.

He drops his hand back down and turns onto his side, contemplating his sanity.

He may have walked into the forest but everything else?

Finding a random lab UNLOCKED. Reading about dimensions and portals. Surviving a literal EXPLOSION—Kacchan's explosions don't compare. And the biggest out of this world occurrence being, his body doing freakish vanishing acts.

Looking at it now, it seems laughable. Straight out of a T.V. show.

He snorts, turning his body to the other side.

He chalks everything up to a hallucination. A bad case of delusion and excessive imagination.

Nothing more.

He was wrong.

Something that keeps happening. He really doesn't know why he thinks he could be right anymore.

He couldn't sleep, feeling restless, so he scrolled through MeToo, watching random videos, waiting for his eyes to grow heavy. While scrolling, he gets a notification of the latest news.

Fire in the forest: Abandoned building explodes.

If the lab was real, then everything else was real too. Still, he denied it. Sure, the lab may have been real, but he decided that the other strange stuff that happened was just him being crazy.

Which was proven false, by the fact that his phone hit his face because his hand turned intangible. It was too real to deny.

With no chance of him sleeping on this, he stands up and quietly walks to the restroom. He closes the door gently, locking it for good measure.

As soon as he turns, he nearly screams at his reflection. He looks behind himself then back at the mirror to check if the person inside was really him.

"How?" He touches the mirror as his other hand's fingers lay against the side of his left eye. Bright and glowing blue eyes stare back at him. His deep forest green hair is replaced with a snow-white color matching the palest white skin he's seen. It was a high contrast against his already prominent freckles along the top of his cheeks.

His hands turn invisible before he can pull at his hair.

His eyebrows crease in worry as he stares at his hand then back at his reflection.

What's happening to me?

Was it because of the button he pressed in that lab? Did it change his appearance?

No, his eyebrows scrunch further. He checked himself in the mirror when he came home. And his mother would have said something to him.

Or was that the reason she screamed? Did his appearance change as unpredictably as his limbs turning intangible? Did she see it and just let it go?

No, no. He shakes his head. Even she would have questioned this.

Then what happened?

He looks back up to stare into his own eyes. He can't recognize himself. His eyes, hair, and skin, are all different. He's different.

His limbs become invisible. Slip through solid metal walls. He walked through fire, unscathed. Walking in the dark wasn't difficult for him. It was as if it was day.

He couldn't have imagined all that. Even now, when he really wishes he were dreaming, he knows it's real. It's all real. He survived a dimensional gateway opening with him in the center and an explosion.

A queasiness sets in his stomach.

These are powers, he concludes in acceptance of his reality. All of them. But it's not a quirk.

No.

He knows better than to think so.

He was diagnosed as quirkless. He had the extra toe joint to prove it. That did not change. But somehow, he has powers.

Multiple from the looks of it.

But that's impossible! He slams his fists against the top of the sink.

I'm a Deku! He glares at himself.

He's powerless! A useless waste of space!

I...I...he turns to the side, hunching with his hands gripping his hair.

I just CAN'T DEVELOP POWERS OUT OF NOWHERE?!

He stares wide eyed at the floor as if that is what has ailed him so. He takes deep breaths, trying to calm his hear—

He whips a hand to his chest.

His heart, he presses his chest hard, his fingertips digging into his skin.

It's...he can't feel a heartbeat.

He brings two fingers to his neck, checking his pulse. Nothing. He brings his fingers to his wrist. Nothing.

No way...NO WAY?! He's clearly panicking. Clearly should have a heightened pulse, with his heart beating outside of his chest. Yet...he hasn't felt calmer.

The light flickers.

He slowly looks back up to the mirror. He flinches at the sight. He's back to normal. Green hair and non-glowing green eyes in perfect display. His skin back in full color. He moves his hand over his chest. There's a feint heartbeat. Slow and quiet, but still there.

Now that he really looks at his face, the contrast to how his other self looked was drastic. The pale face and white hair. He looked...he looked almost...

Dead?

He grips his shirt in a fist. This time he does feel his heart speed up, but not a beat he knows to be normal.

"What's going on?" He whispers, sliding his hands up to grip the side of his forehead. He pauses, staring at himself, then drops his hands at his side.

...Whatever, he pivots outside the restroom. He enters his room again, sitting at his desk.

He has to go to school tomorrow. His mom is going to see him in the morning. He'll need to get his body under control. Accidentally phasing through things or turning invisible is a no go. It'd be fine if he did it in public, closer to the main city, but in front of his mom? In front of his school? Yeah, no.

He's well known for being quirkless. Even the convenience store clerk knows he's quirkless. Showing any type of power now would raise too many questions. He might even be turned over to the government for experiments. Or worse, the people at the no so abandoned lab might come to find him.

Was this part of their research? Are there others like him?

Focus! He shakes his head. Slipping a fresh notebook from his shelf, he titles it number 14 before opening it up to write.

Invisibility. Intangibility. Night vision. Second appearance. Strengths and weaknesses?

First, he drops his pen to stare at his hands. Testing his invisibility.

"Phew." He breathes out. Setting his mind into study mode, he imagines his hand turning invisible.

Go! He thinks. The next moment his hand disappears.

"Woah!" A smile blooms on his lips. "It worked!"

Now, he glances at his desk. He moves his hands to the top of it. He imagines his hand going straight through unobstructed.

Phase through! He commands his body. His hand slips right through the desk. He brings them up. Then down. Then up and down again.

He imagines his hand solid again and presses it against the desk. It doesn't go through.

"Haha!" He spins in his chair, triumphantly.

Next. He stands; his arms bent outward from his body with his hands in fists.

Turn invisible! He wills with all his being, clenching his eyes shut in strain. Not that there was any real strain, he just wanted to feel like he was doing something.

He slowly cracks one eye open glancing at his arm. It's invisible. Just the faint outline of his limb. His eyes burst open getting a good look at the rest of himself. He's completely invisible.

Woah, he stares in awe. He wonders how he can even SEE himself if his whole body is invisible. He's glad he can though. It'd be scary if he turned blind each time he turned invisible. Or maybe he'd just need to keep his eyes visible.

He imaged floating eyeballs.

"EEi!" He shivers.

He moves on to try for full body intangibility.

This will be tricky. He glances at the floor. He'd rather not sink into the ground and find out what happens when his intangibility fails him.

He decides to walk through his door instead. Slowly. Running straight for it would be idiotic. Not to mention, it'd wake up his mother in a fright.

He lays his palms against the door, imagining them phasing to the other side. He stumbles forward his nose bending as it hits the door.

It worked! He lights up. He presses himself fully against the wood and the rest of his body phases right through. He flails, catching himself in a one footed hop to stay upright. He pauses to check out his body. His invisibility is still active. Placing both feet on the ground, he turns to face his door again.

This time, he does run straight at it. He phases right through, tripping.

Don't phase through! He shouts as his hands make contact with the floor. He tucks into a roll and comes to a stop against his bed.

He takes deep breaths out of reflex and just sits there, thrown, in awestruck wonder.

After letting himself experience a few moments of genuine glee, he raises his hands and wills his body to visibility. It does.

"Control, check." He smiles, scanning to make sure every bit of his body was visible again.

As for his second appearance, he's not sure how he could summon that. It just sort of happened. Although, that applied to his invisibility too.

Hmm, he brings a hand to his lips. He'll need a mirror.

He turns invisible and phases along into the restroom. Not that he had to, but the more practice he had the better. And it was fun.

"Okay." He stares at himself in the mirror. It seems he can use his powers even without changing appearances. The other him—

Is it even him? Is it another body he switches out with? How come it's not painful? If his body morphs into something without a heartbeat? Why does he have another version of himself?

Later, he shuts his thoughts down.

He guesses the way to change into his other form was to envision it like he did with his other abilities.

White hair. Glowing blue eyes. Pale skin. And...no heartbeat.

The thought nearly keeps him from trying, but he resolves to see this through.

CHANGE! He yells inside, his eyes boring into his reflection.

A thin white ring encircles his waist, something he hadn't noticed before. It splits into two as one moves down towards his feet, the other up to his head.

His clothes change into his uniform. Inverted from the normal black color; a snowy white jacket and pants with a black under shirt.

The exact same clothes he wore when he...passed out after he flicked the switch at the lab.

But maybe. Maybe he didn't just pass out.

Maybe he...

Maybe I di—

Nope! He spins around to face the wall.

Don't think about that! He shouts as he watches the same ring appear at his torso, changing him back to normal.

Or, his normal, at least.

Glancing back, he peeks at the mirror. An image of his other self appears over his own.

Ugh! He clenches his eyes closed opening them quickly. Green eyes look back at him.

Let's just try and sleep, he rushes to the door. He slams against it with a resounding THUD.

"Izuku?!" His mother's voice calls from outside the door.

She's awake?!

"I'm okay, mom!" He yells, checking if his nose is bleeding. It's not. And the strangest part is he doesn't even feel hurt.

Heightened durability? Or heightened threshold of pain? Strength enhanced?

"Izuku?" His mother calls again.

"Sorry!" He opens the door. She's changed into casual clothes, her telework requiring no dress code. He didn't realize it was already morning.

"I'm done with the restroom." He says sliding around her, gunning for his room.

His door slams shut.

"Okay..." She answers quizzically, staring at his closed door.

"Ha…" He sighs, leaning his back against the door. Up all night, strange ongoings on, and an existential crisis. He doesn't feel tired now, but he's sure to feel it later.

"I"

"AH!" He jumps.

"Am HERE! I am HERE!" His alarm blares.

I need to calm down. Pushing off the door he walks to click his alarm off then plops down on his bed.

He glances at his clock.

It's All Might themed just like the rest of his things. From his bed sheets to his underwear to the posters on his wall. His entire room is filled with All Might's merchandise. A testament to his adoration of the hero. It gave him pride. He felt safe and happy. But now...it feels almost constricting.

And hearing his voice...

"You can't be a hero."

He grabs his alarm clock, unplugging it from the wall. He holds it in his hands recalling the time when he first got it as gift from his mom. Shiny and like new despite it being more than 7 years old. Fiddling with it between his finger a while longer, he lays it on his bed, glancing at everything around. It's too much, even for a fan, he tells himself.

Maybe taking off some of All Might's red, blue, and yellow colors wouldn't hurt. It's about time for a makeover anyway. He's always liked the color green (totally not biased). Spring is about new beginnings anyway. Some spring cleaning would do nicely.

He gets up to inspect his closet. His hands take the sleeve of his spare uniform. The image of his white uniform overlaps his vision.

His hand jerks back as if burned. Maybe taking one day off wouldn't hurt.

"Mom?" He calls out in the hallway.

"Yes?" She leans out the kitchen to see him.

"May I stay home today? I'm not feeling well."

"I'll call the school." She says going over to the phone.

"Thank you." He tells her before closing his door. One of the few benefits of being quirkless; getting anything you ask for because of his mother's guilt. No questions asked.

He glances at his room again, taking a good look at it for the last time. Everything inside took years to collect. Precious memories were held in each item. Birthdays. Holidays. Sounded nice on the surface, but looking at it now, his room seemed more like a shrine. All of it stemming from his childhood dream of being a hero.

Well, he's awake now. No more idolization or fantasies.

"Okay." He says as he grabs a cardboard box from under his bed. Something that had carried his recent purchase of All Might figurines he unpackaged just two days ago.

He uses it to carefully place his decor and figurines nicely inside, taking his time to reminisce with each item. His bed sheets he'll have to keep. He wouldn't want to buy a whole set with perfectly good ones on his bed right now.

He steps out to grab some plastic bags and starts stuffing all his other things inside.

Every poster he rolls up placing against the wall for proper packing later. Tying up the last bag, he steps back to see his work. His bare walls are now naked. His room looks and feels a lot more spacious in its emptiness.

He'll definitely fill it with other things.

He takes a couple bags in hand moving to his door but stops. Half of this stuff is limited edition and was worth a lot of money. It would be a disservice to his mother to just throw it away. He could donate some, but he wouldn't mind the extra cash for all the years worth of collection.

He drops his bags and pulls out his phone. He logs on to his All Might fansite. He's had an account open on it since he was 8 years old. Most of the time he chatted about All Might with others and watched posts from sighting of the hero. They do a lot of trade as well. He once traded an All Might card for a poster.

He starts a post, adding pictures of his merchandise and prices, tagging one of his long-time friends for first dibs. If online friends count as friends. He'd like to think they are. But it was a tentative friendship since they couldn't very well share too many personal things about themselves. Stranger danger and all.

He gets an answer immediately.

"I'll pay twice the amount for it, but why are you giving your collection away. I thought you liked All Might?"

"I was cleaning my room and realized I have too much."

"Everything okay?"

Huh...that's a first.

"I just gained some new perspective. I'd like to have room for other hero merch. Change things up."

"Just cause I'm an All Might fan on an All Might fansite, doesn't mean I will judge others for their negative opinions of All Might. I won't push, but if you'd like to share what happened for you to not like All Might anymore, I'd be happy to listen."

"I appreciate it. Truly. I'll drop off everything at Mustafa post office, today? Is using the name Sasaki still fine?"

"Yes. And today is fine."

"Thank you!"

"No, thank you. I look forward to adding to my collection."

Clicking off his phone, he grabs the bags again and moves them to the doorway. He walks back to his room to grab some more.

"What are you doing?" His mother asks, seeing him come back with more bags.

"I wanted to change my room." He answers.

"Oh, okay. Would you like to go to the store?" She asks taking out her card.

He thinks about it and decides he could use today to shop for new decor.

"That'd be great, thanks." He bows accepting the card. He puts it in his wallet and continues moving his stuff to the door. He changes into a hoodie and shorts then tidies up his hair to look less bed head messy and more purposely messy.

"I'm gonna buy a cart to carry my things too is that okay?" He asks, opening the front door.

"Whatever you need." His mother nods.

"Thank you." He steps outside. It feels weird walking out in his casual clothes when he's supposed to be at school, but he also feels a little excited. This change of pace might do him good. He takes the train to the local mall and browses the stores before walking into the ones he needed. A few décor, some clothes, and a new clock.

Coming out to the front of the mall, he realizes he bought more than he could take on a train. He calls a cab and loads his goods before riding home.

"I'm back." He calls into the house. His mom nods at him as she works from her desk in the living room. He hauls his stuff into his room and loads his All Might merchandise onto the cart he bought.

He struggles to take the thing down the apartment stairs but manages to do so without anything dropping. He drops them off at the post office making sure to inform the mailmen of the recipient. He kind of wanted to see who Sasaki was, since this would probably be the last time he interacts with him, but then...what if he was a pervert? Or worse, what if he wanted to talk with him?

He heads back home and starts setting up his room. He sets up his paintings of the sky and beach on his walls with a few posters of pro heroes Mirko, Gang Orca, Mic, and Ryuku. He adds some figurines of them as well, including ones of pro heroes Manual and the Pussy Cats. Awesome heroes that deserved more recognition than they got. A few green items are placed around with some succulents and a bonsai tree by his window.

When he's done, he actually likes it more than the All Might worship alter he had before. He glances at his desk and stares at the only figure he kept of All Might. The silver age figurine. Gently picking it up, he takes a seat feeling it in his hands.

It was the All Might toy he got when he turned 5. After being diagnosed as quirkless, that first year was the worst. His dream was crushed before he could even start. His mother gave him the limited-edition figurine that only had 10 items in stock. Tears had flooded out of him, releasing the sadness drowning his heart. With that kind gesture, despite it being out of guilt, his hope was restored. The figurine was well kept in his room, dusted and cleaned like the rest of his merchandise. But now…

His hands tighten around the figure.

He still likes All Might. The experience he had with him doesn't take away from the fact that he's a great hero with many saves and villain take downs under his belt. As for the words All Might told him, he couldn't really refute the statements.

In a world filled with volatile and powerful quirks, what could a quirkless person possibly do?

He had no muscle. He was without power. Without skill. And only knew how to take a punch not throw one.

He was a true liability as All Might said. And if All Might—who was the strongest hero in the world—got hurt enough to limit his time working as a hero, then what hope does he have?

Sure, he could try for the police, but they'd probably have him pushing pencils and getting them coffee. He doesn't think All Might understands what exactly it means to be quirkless in this time and age. Otherwise, he wouldn't have said such cruel things and left him on the roof unattended.

Even if he was mentally stable, he was still a middle schooler. He could have at least been escorted down.

But that's besides the point.

All Might still stood for something. He was the symbol of peace. Of strength. He kept villains scared and scurrying in the dark. He had high rescue rates with little property damage. Every criminal or villain was apprehended with speed and efficiency. He was also still other people's favorite hero. And other people's hope.

Izuku's new hope is for those people to not have the unfortunate chance to meet All Might in person as he did.

Setting aside his figurine, he grabs the trash from his room and the leftover unsellable items and chucks it into their apartment dumpsters. Once back inside, he grabs a snack and locks the door to his room.

He needs more practice with his powers. He can't afford to mess up tomorrow in the middle of class. Good thing he's a fast learner.

By nighttime, he's able to turn his powers off and on. His other form, or Mumei, as he decided to refer to it, was still hard to call forth on command. It took a lot more effort to change into Mumei than to change back. It actually left him feeling exhausted enough to want to sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up two hours before his alarm. Feeling energized and wide awake. The opposite of what he'd expect after going nearly 48 hours without sleep. He wonders if it has something to do with his abilities. He wonders if his body requires less sleep now. Only time will tell.

When he goes to use the restroom, he finds a large crack on their restroom door. From the top all the way to the bottom. Most likely from when he tried to walk through it yesterday and slammed into it instead.

There is no way a normal human being would walk away unscathed from that. He really does have super strength and enhanced durability.

He walks to the kitchen where his mom is cooking and hesitantly steps to the table.

"I'm sorry about the door."

"I already put in a work order." His mom dismisses.

"Okay." He grips at his shirt. A typical response from her, but he would've liked to have been yelled at, if only once.

"I made omurice." She offers, laying his plate on the table.

"Thank you." He bows, sitting down to eat. His mother cooks her own meal while he eats. She sits down when he gets up to wash his plate. The same routine every meal.

Him eating alone.

And his mother busy doing other things.

He goes to his room to change quickly, not really looking at his uniform. He made sure to throw away the uniform he had on the day of the…incident.

He moves to the doorway and slips on his shoes and backpack.

"I'm off." He says.

"Oh already? I'll have katsudon ready for when you come home." She says, as she does every morning, varying with the food being made.

"Okay." He answers, as he always does.

He walks to school on the same path through the same roads and tunnel. When he sees the school gates, his feet slow.

It'll be fine, he tells himself. Everything will be the same.

Gripping his straps, he hunches past his classmates, keeping his eyes to the ground, expertly weaving through the crowd. He steps inside the school doors and goes straight to his locker.

"That's weird?" A classmate to his left says. "Usually Deku's here by now?"

Huh? He stills, his hand on his locker handle.

"I know, he's late. I really wanted to test out a new move I made with my quirk." The girl grins.

I'm right here? He quirks an eyebrow at his two classmates. Are they pretending I don't exist again?

But they take their quirk testing very seriously. And their eyes are looking in his direction, except they're not focused on him. They seem to look past him.

Don't tell me! His heart drums.

Slowly, his eyes turn down to the ground where his feet should be and realizes he can actually SEE the ground. Freshly waxed floor and all.

Oh no!

Chapter 3: From now on

He glances around in panic. He may be invisible, but there's still a risk of being seen. However small it may be.

He must not have wanted to be seen and accidentally turned invisible. So, his powers aren't going crazy. Although, that means his powers are tied to his emotions. At least his decreased heartrate would help with that, but now he has to really be careful what he thinks and feels.

Ha! He groans internally.

Seeing no safe way to escape the lockers without bumping into someone, he pressing into his locker, phasing to the other side. He does not want to try to phase through someone. In fact, he hopes to never have to phase through someone.

Once on the other side, he rushes to a lone corner of the school and forces himself visible again. Checking his hands and his reflection in the school window, he sighs heavily before stepping back into the shoe lockers.

By the time he gets to his locker, he's alone with no one in wait to harm him. He opens his locker slowly, peeking inside to check for any contraptions his classmates made. Seeing no strings attached, he opens it fully.

He takes out his indoor shoes moving over to the trash cans to dump whatever he finds in them for today. Thumbtacks it seems.

He switches out his shoes and heads to class. Thankfully he's a little later than usual and allows him the small grace of walking through the hallway without getting shoved or tripped.

Entering class, he slips in his seat, laying his head down in his arm until class starts.

"Deku!" Kacchan kicks his desk, jolting him upright. Izuku's heart sinks at the sight of his ex-friend. After everything that happened, Kacchan's suicide bait was thrown to the back of his mind. In fact, he still can't come to terms with it being real or just a horrible dream. It was Kacchan after all. He was going to be a great hero, right?

"Where were you?!" Kacchan yells, pulling Izuku close by the collar of his uniform. "Did you really try to off yourself?!"

The reference to suicide left no debate. Kacchan really told Izuku to kill himself. And now he seems to be upset that Izuku supposedly tried to off himself, or that he didn't succeed. Either way, Kacchan's yelling again. Angry as he always seems to be. Violent, brash, and volatile. And despite the burning hand near Izuku's neck, a deep-rooted cold seeps into his bones from the thought that crosses his mind.

Kacchan was no hero...he was a villain.

"Don't think for a second you can just kick the bucket and leave Auntie Inko alone! You gotta live your whole life making it up to her for having a quirkless Deku for a son! Do you hear me!" He slams a small explosion into Izuku's desk.

"If you even think about missing class again, I'll come kill you myself!" He shoves Izuku back harshly into the chair. 

Izuku's head hangs low, his body limp and hands hanging by his sides.

"You tell me to die..." he voices low.

A chill passes up Kacchan's back. The hairs on his body rise. Those around Izuku react the same way. The room seems to get darker. Colder. 

"You order me to live..." Izuku's eyes slowly turn up. "You're the worst." He growls in broken fury. The lights flicker on and off increasing in frequency. Izuku watches the Kacchan lean back, the closest to being scared you'll ever see from the prideful boy. A strong energy pulses from Izuku's chest. He feels something wanting to be released. He wants it to.

"FREAK!" Izuku gets smacked upside the head, effectively shutting off whatever was building up inside him.

"Jeez!" A girl rubs at her arms. "What's with the AC today?" She asks glancing at Izuku in nervousness.

"Stupid Deku's actually giving me goosebumps." Her friend laughs, her lips barely forming a smile.

"I can't believe Deku actually spoke back?" A guy puts Izuku in an armlock. "This guy seems to have grown a spine." He rubs at Izuku's head ruffly before shoving him into his desk.

"I always knew he was a freak but the lights really made it seem like he was doing it on purpose."

"What are you talking about? Deku's as quirkless as can be." Kaido pats at Izuku's head like he was patting a dog. A dog you hated that is. 

"Unless," he grins pulling Izuku's head up by his hair. "You really did kill yourself and gain a quirk?"

BOOM! Kacchan's hands gleam a bright orange through the smoke of his explosion.

"Shut up!" He glares vehemently, threatening a good pounding if Kaido so much as breathed wrong.

Kaido gets the message, scurrying to his seat.

"It was probably faulty wiring or something." A girl comments, feeling the tension in the air.

Kacchan stands in front of Izuku's desk staring him down. He grinds his teeth, his hands popping in irritation. The class swallows feeling the room heat up uncomfortably. A jarring contrast to the sudden cold moments earlier.

Then Kacchan pivots, stomping to his desk and plopping himself down with his arms crossed. He slams his feet on his desk leaning back with his eyes closed.

The class collectively sighs, going back to their usual chatter. Albeit quieter. The teacher strolls inside and classes resume as normal.

Izuku sits quietly in self-loathing. He couldn't believe he thought Kacchan was a villain. Or that he was the worst. He didn't mean to speak aloud. He was too wound up with emotion to filter his words.

Now that he's calmed down and thinks about it, Kacchan wasn't his usual angry self. No, when he first grabbed at his collar, his hands were shaking. But not from rage. Kacchan's eyes were glassy, his eyebrows scrunched. He looked scared.

Yesterday was the first day in years that Izuku missed school. He never really got sick. And even when he broke his arm, he still showed up to school.

Kacchan probably thought the worst when he didn't come.

"Did you really try to off yourself?!" He was worried he did.

"Don't think for a second you can kick the bucket and leave Auntie Inko alone!" He was reminding him of someone who cared for him.

"If you even think about missing class again, I'll kill you myself!" He was going to look for him the next time he was gone.

Kacchan, in his brash and cruel way, was admitting that he...cared for Izuku. Or at least didn't want him dead. And he sounded like he regretted it. He even threatened to hit Kaido, one of his main bullies, for questioning if he did try to kill himself and get a quirk.

There's no doubt that Kacchan doesn't wish Izuku dead and regrets it.

The question is why?

He clearly doesn't want to be his friend. Never really was. Izuku would just follow after him like a lost puppy, mesmerized by how great Kacchan was at everything. 

Why would Kacchan care about him?

Forget it, he swats around his head. It's no use thinking about the rubix cube that is Katsuki Bakugo.

As soon as school is over, he impatiently waits for everyone else to leave first, then rushes to the door, but he stops, looking behind him. Going through the halls, he'll be forced to walk behind everyone else, or get jumped before he can make it home. On the other hand, if he phases through the wall, he could be outside before anyone can see him. Literally.

His lips quirk up in a small smile. He runs at the windows instead. He phases perfectly through. Right out of the third floor. A fact, he clearly forgot to take into account.

"MMM!" He covers his mouth in a muffled scream as he plunges to the ground. He waits for the pain, but nothing happens. In fact, he feels really light. He opens his eyes and finds himself looking inches away from the ground. He flinches back in surprise, wanting to stand, but his body just flips around in a circle, his legs feeling tied together and wiggly. He glances down.

His legs are gone. A weird wispy tail-like thing in its place.

"WAH!" He accidentally vocalizes.

"Did you hear that?" His classmates nearby look around for the voice.

"Today just keeps getting freakier." A guy shakes his head as he heads home. The rest of the class follow suit, glancing around from the strange scream they heard.

Izuku spins around in slow circles as he keeps his hands on his mouth. He's glad he's invisible. He nearly showed he had a quirk. No, not a quirk. Powers. Or yes? No? He doesn't know! He continues to flail in the air trying to right himself.

He obviously changed into Mumei from his inverted clothing, but he also sprouted a tail. A strange—he passes his hands through his lower half without any resistance—intangible tail?

Wait! He looks at the ground. I'm flying! He belatedly realizes. 

Not really flying, more like hovering, but I'm definitely in the air! Can I fly? He extends his arms forward and his body follows slowly.

I can fly! Another power! He smiles. Another power? His smile drops. He recalls that feeling of coldness pass through him in the class. How they questioned if the AC was broken. The lights flickering.

Cold chill. And electrical disruption.

What...he stares at his hands and tail.

What am I?

BOOM! He hears explosions go off. He whips his head up and finds a small trail of smoke rising into the air, getting bigger by the second.

A villain! He turns upside down, crawling with his hands behind a tree. He changes back to normal and rushes out the school gates.

He wonders what hero will show up—

He skids to a stop.

Why is he going to go? He's not going to be a hero. All Might said he couldn't. His classmates said he couldn't. His own mother doesn't believe in him.

He turns around, deciding to walk home, but then another explosion goes off. Then rapid small ones follow. Popping sounds.

Very familiar popping sounds. 

He sprints towards the noise. The closer he gets the more dire the situation sounds to be. People exclaiming. Things exploding. Heroes shouting.

He turns a corner and sees a crowd bundled tightly in front of an alleyway. Both buildings to its sides are on fire with caved in ceilings. In the center of the inferno is the same slime villain that tried to kill him when he met All Might. And this time, drowning in its evil clutches, is a blonde haired red eyed middle schooler with an explosion quirk.

"Kacchan!" He squeezes his way to the front of the crowd. He grips onto the hose of backdraft, an emergency perimeter he set up to keep the crowd back.

He sees Mt. Lady looking down from the buildings above, just staring at Kacchan in pity. The hero Death Arms doing the same thing.

"Help him!" He exclaims in urgent fury.

"Stand back kid!"

"The slime villain's trying to suffocate Kacchan and use his body as his own! You have to save him!"

"There's nothing we can do! Our quirks aren't suited for the villain's quirk!"

Izuku's anger flares.

Another explosion draws his attention. He looks at Kacchan watching him struggle in vain against the slime villain as it smiles in glee.

Then Kacchan meets his eyes. They cry out for help.

Izuku sprints to him in haste.

"Kid!" Backdraft shouts.

"He's going to kill himself!" Death Arms yells in panic.

Izuku runs straight for the slime villain. The last time he encountered it; he was caught by surprise. This time he's prepared.

"Hey," the villain takes a good look at Izuku. His eyes widen.

"I remember you!" He glares.

Izuku slips his backpack around chucking it at the villain's face. It knocks against its teeth.

"Ugh!" The villain flinches back. Then it shrieks like a banshee in the night.

"My eye!" He wails. Izuku had punched it in the eye, the only other solid thing on the villain.

"Kugh!" Kacchan coughs up slime, from where he hangs loosely in the villain's stretched out slime. The villain too busy in pain to keep his grip on his victim secure.

"Kacchan!" Izuku yanks him out the rest of the way.

"Deku, what do you think you're doing?!" He groans, barely staying conscious.

"Let's go!" Izuku wraps his hands around him, hoisting him to his feet. He nearly falls from the extra weight. 

Kacchan's heavier than he looks! Izuku huffs as he practically drags him away from the villain.

But they don't get far.

"I'll kill you!" The villain quickly recovers raising a large dripping fist of slime at them. Izuku rolls them out of the way. He watches the villain rub his eye, glaring at him with the other. He shuffles his legs into a better stance and touches something with his foot. A soda bottle. He remembers All Might sealing the sludge in one after rescuing him from it.

He glances around the alleyway looking for something big enough to shove the villains' eyes and mouth in.

But he'd been looking away too long. He feels something hit him hard, throwing him off his feet. He bangs against the dumpsters with a resounding CLANG!

"Annoying brat!" The villain sneers.

"DIE!" Kacchan points his palms at it.

"Oh sh—"

Everyone is blinded as Kacchan lights up the villain in a bombardment, splattering him against the entire alleyway with one final deafening explosion. 

"The crazy kid tried to kill me!" The villain's balks as he forms himself in a tiny chunk of slime.

"This ain't worth it!" The villain begins to slither away.

"Gotcha!" Izuku scoops the villain in a jelly jar, covering it quickly.

"Kid!" Death Arms snatches the jar from Izuku's hand, the other grabbing harshly onto his wrist.

"What were you thinking?!" He yells in anger. "You could've gotten yourself killed! That was reckless!"

"I'm sorry! I—" Why is he sorry? Did he do something wrong? Kacchan was suffocating. He was just trying to help. And he did! He even captured the villain. Him! Deku!

But nobody else sees it that way. He is scolded by the other heroes and the police that come to talk to him. 

But he doesn't listen.

For the first time, he doesn't listen to their voices. No.

He just fought a villain, and won! Without a quirk or power! They said he couldn't be a hero. That he was a liability. That he was someone weak and frail and would die before he could even think of saving someone.

They were wrong.

All of them.

Even All Might was wrong.

He can be a hero. He will be a hero. Because that is who he is. If he sees someone in need he can't ignore them. He'll jump head first into the fire to help them.

"Deku!" Kacchan's voice startles him. He turns back on the road and sees Kacchan stomping down towards him.

"I didn't need your help!" Kacchan's younger voice echoes in his head.

Izuku takes off running. Well, more galloping in awkward forward movement. The sludge villain hurt him more than he thought. His whole torso aches terribly and so do his ankle and wrists. He more than likely has at least one rib broken and he's pretty sure his face doesn't look all that well. 

After the villain was secured, nobody bothered to check his injuries. Preferring to berate him for his unnecessary help than provide first aid. He was able to slip away after their focus turned to Kacchan and his potential to be a hero with his powerful explosive quirk.

It's making it really difficult to run away from said guy. But thankfully he doesn't have to run far. He turns a corner and holds his breath.

Kacchan runs past him, unaware. In his confusion, Izuku rushes in the opposite direction of him.

"Phew!" Izuku breaths out turning visible. He looks back at where he left Kacchan. He can't risk going home. There's a 0.00001% chance Kacchan will be there waiting for him, but it's a possibility nonetheless. Instead he strolls to Dagobah beach. He has a vague memory of coming here once when his father was still around. He hadn't been back since, but he does remember it being shiny and pretty.

The mounting piles of trash is definitely something he doesn't remember. He almost thought he was in the wrong place, but the sign in front of the great wall of trash read Dagobah beach.

How sad, he grimaces at the filth. He was hoping to watch the waves crash against the shores and see the sunset. He turns to leave, but stops, glancing back.

What if...he cleaned it up a bit?

He pokes at his limp noodles for arms. Despite his dream of being a hero, he never actually put in any work to be one. He always thought being a hero meant having a strong quirk. But, even heroes had to train. Mic does boxing. Gunhead does martial arts. It's common for heroes to gain other skills to make up for their less offensive made quirks or to complement their powerful quirks to maximize their use.

He guesses deep down, he knew he couldn't be a hero too.

But that's all changed, he pumps his fists. If he's going to be a hero, he's going to need to gain muscle. And, he stares at the top of the mountain of trash, he could use the coverage to train his...Mumei abilities.

He has ten months until UA entrance exam. He had forgotten he signed up, but now he wants to try for it. If someone like Kacchan and his classmates (one having their fingers stretch 12 inches longer than normal) can get in, surely, he has a chance.

And he'll do it without a quirk. 

...If he can help it. He'll still practice using his powers but he won't rely on them.

This is the reason he thinks he was born. To prove that a quirkless person cannot just be a hero, but overcome any obstacle or label placed on them.

He wants to give hope to others like him. Those repeatedly told what they can and can't do. He'll be the first to reach out his hands to others and tell them they too can be a hero.

That is his goal.

That is his purpose.

But first, he holds his ribs. An early sleep.

He heads home, quickly showers, and goes right to bed. He knocks out for a good 4 hours before rising.

He learns two things that morning.

One, he forgot his backpack at the sludge villain incident.

And two, he has super healing abilities.

His ankle isn't swollen and his ribs are as good as new. He pokes around his chest. There's not even bruising left. 

That would be useful, but he's also slightly scared. Will acquiring new abilities ever stop?

He tosses that thought aside and adds the new power to his notebook. Seems the super healing is passive, since he wasn't conscious when his body was healing itself. If it can heal a broken rib over night as well as his other injuries, without making him feel exhausted, it's powerful. He wonders to what extent it can heal him? Fatal injury? Near death?

But...what would even be considered dead? He doesn't have a heartbeat in Mumei form. He's not even sure he can get hurt in that form, let alone be close to dying.

His normal form still has a heartbeat, faint as it is, does that mean the two forms are separate? Like, if he died in one form, he'd still be alive with the other form? Or would dying as Izuku end Mumei as well? But if one form has a heartbeat, and the other doesn't, is he half dead already? A freak zombie situation?

No, not zombie...

He thinks back to the coldness and flickering of the lights. How he can turn invisible and form a transparent wisp like tail. The snow-white hair and clothes...

A hand slowly comes up to cover his mouth, the other touching his chest. He doesn't want to acknowledge it. If he says it, it will sound so stupid in its absurdity. A completely insane thought that has roots in folklore.

But it's the only thing that makes sense. The only thing that has felt right in his whole mess of strangeness.

The undeniable truth is...that he is a ghost. Or at least a half ghost. Or he's a ghost possessing his dead body. Although, he's going to ignore the last one in favor of not losing his mind. More than he already has.

The existence of the lab further cements his ghost conclusion. The data scattered on its floors were of opening doorways to different worlds. Portals into other dimensions. Crossing over into other realities.

The reality of a ghost world cannot possibly be dismissed.

Even if a ghost world doesn't exist, the attempt to open a portal to who knows where and have it open with him in the center of it, has too many possible outcomes that all involve death.

Yet, he lived.

The power and energy used to rip open a hole in space definitely would mess someone's body up. And in his case, his body was altered into a strange half boy half ghost situation.

He would very much be freaking out and turn into a depressed sobbing ball of anxiousness if he could emote normally.

Right now, he simply accepts his new reality and finishes jotting down his thoughts in his notebook.

After he's done, he grabs another notebook labeling it Hero start plan. He'll need to research the best way to get in shape fast.

He needs a good diet that will help him build up muscle. He'd obviously have to exercise every morning to make sure he's strong enough before he takes the UA entrance exam. Running is the best way to get in shape. He'll build up his duration until he could run 2.5 miles without hurting. He saves some Yalltube videos for core, strength, and cardio then moves onto combat. He needs to figure out what fighting styles would suit him best.

He's small, so combat utilizing his legs would be beneficial. Taekwondo seems good. He'd like to subdue a perpetrator quickly without hurting them too much, something both offensive and defensive. Krav Maga sounds perfect for this. But Muay thai is good too. Kickboxing would be cool. Karate is a big one.

So much to choose from.

He'll stick with Krav Maga. For now. He'll need to know a little bit of everything, keep more than one trick up his sleeve, if he's to fight against those with powerful quirks.

He does a quick search on places that teach Krav Maga. Thankfully, in this hero filled world, there are a variety of martial arts dojos used by both heroes and aspiring heroes alike. There is only one place in business that uses Krav Maga. An obscure little dojo part of an old man's house. And it's conveniently close by. About 30 minutes by train. Free training for basics and the first 3 sessions and 30 per month the rest of the time. Not a bad deal. He'll make sure to learn on his own too. Study everything there is to know of it, then compare to what his instructor helps him learn through hands on instruction.

With his food, exercise, and martial arts style settled he goes to tell his mother of his plan.

"You...want to learn Krav Maga?"

"Yes, it's good exercise but it also helps to keep me out and active. Being inside all day with nowhere to go gets kind of...tiring."

"Will you get hurt?"

A sharp tightness grips his chest. Will I get hurt? Yes. Obviously it's a yes. There's always some hurt involved with martial arts. But you still ask, why? Why now? Why with this? She hasn't asked him that question since he was 5 years old. Did she think the last 10 years were peaceful?

...

"They spar with each other to practice their techniques and moves." He carefully answers, feeling the tightness spread from his chest down to his stomach. "But they move slow. And they use safety gear to prevent injury."

"I see...well I'll get you a debit card and send you a monthly allowance. But you can always as me for more if you need anything else. For your food, just give me a list of what you need and I'll still make your meals."

"Thank you." Izuku bows going back to his room. He exhales loudly, holding onto his chest. Being with her is hard to breath sometimes.

He changes into his uniform and heads to school. Unfortunately, Kacchan is leaning at the gate with his two lackeys. He takes one look at him then turns inside. No yelling. No hitting, exploding, or shoving. Just looked at him and left inside.

Was he...waiting for me? Izuku's eyes bulge, threatening to fall out. He stands there for a few moments, reigning in his spiral of confusion, before coming to terms with the fact that Kacchan is an enigma and does what he wants.

After school, Izuku heads straight for Dagobah beach. He made sure to stop by the store on his way, buying gloves, a jumpsuit, masks, and trash bags to help with safely cleaning the beach. Looking at the mountain of trash again, makes him falter slightly.

"Where do I even start?" He looks around in dread. He thinks it'd probably be best to start at the entrance and make a path towards the inside. 

He picks up small things first, filling his trash bags. Then bigger things like a microwave and rice cooker moving it onto the other side of the beach wall by the street. Once the ache in his feet become unbearable and he feels limbless, he decides to call it a night.

He feels bad about leaving the trash on the side of the road, but its only for today. He called a dumpster company to haul his trash and they should be coming every morning from now on. He made sure to find a local dumpster company, family owned. They only ask for $20 a month. He'll have to pay more for the bigger things, he's pretty sure he saw a car and a refrigerator, but that'll be last.

Learning Krav Maga was interesting. The first day was hard. He kept turning back, changing his mind about learning the whole way. He'd turn invisible on and off like a faulty light in a horror film. But he pushed forward and made it to the dojo anyway. The people were surprisingly nice. The instructor took special care with him, having had a daughter that was quirkless. He didn't say what happened to her, but Izuku knows she died. Suicide more than likely. The number one statistic associated with quirkless.

But if he didn't say anything, Izuku wouldn't pry.

Cleaning up the beach was progressing slowly but he could see the difference from how it was before. He managed to make room for him to train with Mumei as well.

It was mostly practicing how to fly. From hovering to high-speed movement to jet propulsion. He flew high into the air, high above the clouds. Higher than the plane he almost crashed into. He knew he could go higher still, space maybe, but the thought made him terrified. That's something he'll try...sometime. And as for his legs disappearing as Mumei, it wasn't permanent. It turns out he can turn off the ghost tail, the wispy no legs version, and bring his normal legs back. He can also stretch his body and wiggle it around as if he had no joints. 

It got him thinking of the difference between his regular form and Mumei. The number one being that Mumei is strong. Ridiculously so. He's not. He'll need to make up for that difference somehow.

He can learn to fight but he also needs things to move around quickly too. Something to pull him. A grappling gun would do nicely. He'll need something to give him the edge on people. Weapons. Police use batons. He could use the stun kind. Maybe two. Smoke bombs. A mimic to his to his invisibility. Guns would be effective in subduing villians but he'd rather not. He'll have one for emergencies though. Knifes would be a must. Trapping and cuffing equipment. A rebreather would be essential. Mumei may not need to breath but Izuku does. And he'd rather not be stuck in a situation like the sludge villain again. Speaking of it, he could try to make some freeze or solidifying substances. Something to help grab and subdue those with amorphous quirks. Metal reinforced gloves and boots to damage those with dermal armor such as metal bodies, rock bodies, and crystal bodies. 

What about that villain with a hedgehog quirk? He should find something that could protect his entire body. Should he wear a helmet? The Idatens are fully armored, helmet and all. But most heroes don't wear helmets. Maybe get some eye protectors? Add some...

He divulges. Researching villains and heroes alike. Turning to comic books for ideas on support items as well as costume design. After hours of scouring the internet—where he ended with reading about how a male bird adapted into a female role for his babies—he purchases his last item in his crazy shopping spree. With that done he puts his focus back on picking up the trash. Except he gets a call from his mother.

"Izuku, where are you?" Inko asks.

"I'm out exercising, is everything okay?"

"Izuku, you didn't come home."

"What? Home? But its..." He looks up to the sky. It's morning. He came to clean the beach after school. He stayed out all night?!

"I'm so sorry mom! I'm okay. I didn't mean to stay out so long. I'll be home soon."

"Okay, I made salmon with pickled cucumber."

"Thank you, I'm on my way." He hangs up. Not needing to sleep and having natural night vision doesn't help him keep track of time. He sets up an alarm for school and for bed. He'll make sure to come home, then sneak out at night for more training.

Soon he builds a routine. Go to school from 7 to 4, clean the beach the rest of the hours, practice Krav Maga every MWF and Sat, and dabble in a bit of chemistry and engineering for his weapons.

He could truthfully say he was content. Maybe even happy.

"You've changed." Inko tells him one morning.

Izuku's fork pauses midway to his mouth. His eggs falling onto his plate.

"I, uh, I have been exercising." He explains his increase in muscle build.

"Not just that." Inko shakes her head as she posts herself some coffee. "You're different."

"Is that bad?" Izuku shrinks on himself.

"No. It's a good different." She assures.

Huh, Izuku lifts himself up to sit a little taller. Now that she mentions it, he does feel different. He feels more sure of himself. He even made a friend at his Krav Maga class. A class, he glances at his mother's back, that she helped him get into.

The next morning he decides to do something different.

His mother's eggs sizzle on the stove. She picks them up with her spatula and serves it on her plate. She grabs her cup of coffee and sets it all down at the kitchen table. She moves to sit down, then jumps, startled.

"Izuku?" She look at him in question, glancing down at his untouched food.

"Do you want something else?" She stands behind her chair ready to make what he asks.

"No. I just thought I'd eat with you." He says digging into his cold meal.

"O-Oh." She hesitantly sits in her chair. She blinks profusely, taking a sip of her coffee. The two sit in silence. Just the clinking of their cutlery and chewing of their food heard.

At the end of the meal, Izuku felt he had indigestion from the awkwardness of the situation but he doesn't regret it. If his mother does and she tells him to stop, then he will.

So he keeps waiting to eat with her. And she starts making their meals at the same time. It was strange and quiet at first, but eventually they started talking more. He found out she used to volunteer in construction and rescue crews after villain attacks or accidents. She also practiced archery before. Sang in a choir. He realizes he didn't know anything about her. It's as if he's meeting her for the first time. It makes him cry from the years lost between them. But no more. He won't let them lose any more time.

"You look different." Izuku looks at his mother's face. It's slimmer. "Did you lose weight?"

"I did." She blushes. "I thought I'd start excersizing too."

"Hmm." He nods.

His mother's face turns into a somber look.

"You're taller. You grew past my head."

"It wasn't hard. You're pretty short."

Ah, he freezes. He looks at her and he looks and him.

She bursts out laughing.

"Sorry." It's his turn to blush at his slip up.

She stops laughing, organizing her thoughts before continuing.

"You changed so much. Stronger, healthier, more confident. I'm...happy for you." His mother's face looks genuinely pleased. He can see it. Feel it.

"I wanted to change." He stands up from his chair rounding the table. "I wanted to be better. As a person and as a son. And it's all thanks to you." He takes a knee by her side, taking her hand in his. 

"Thank you." He bows, pressing his forehead against the back of her hand. He waits a moment, then pivots, turning his leaking face away and rushing to the door, but not before hearing the muffled cries from his mother, as she quietly weeps in her hands.

He vows to treat her better. Despite how he was diagnosed quirkless, she stayed to raise him. She did her best. And thinking back on it...he does remember seeing her at his school. She had come to plead the principal to help stop the bullying he was suffering. They didn't listen. And his poor mother, in her anxiousness and worry, didn't have the courage to confront the school in legal matters. Or maybe she did? He doesn't know. He was too focused on hiding his pain and bruises, shutting himself in his room. He hadn't realized she did the same. Hiding and shutting herself in. In guilt and sorrow. 

He had snuck into her room one night. He wanted to tell her about his ghost form. About what happened on the day he got his powers. Not the first time he's thought it, but sometimes the secret felt like too much, and he wished to tell her. This was one of those times. But as he approached his mother's door, he heard sniffling. He changed into Mumei, only pauses for a second in hesitation, and snuck inside.

There his mother was. Sitting on the edge of her bed crying. Holding pictures of himself. And watching old videos of him on her T.V.

He floated towards her and passes his hand over her face, mimicking brushing the strands or her hair out of her face. He sat next to her for a while before feeling like this was an invasion of her privacy and left.

Even with no heartbeat to speak of, his heart ached for his mother. He always loved his mother, but for the first time, he felt it strongly and bursting at the surface. Renewed.

They were just two hurt souls, that thought they were alone in the world. A mother and son that grew apart and didn't know how to come back together. But he'll reach out his hand first. He'll be there for her now. Just as she was for him.