Chapter Text
YEAR 20**
“Sir, are you sure about this?” a disembodied voice questioned. It sounded distinctly female in origin, though it’d be easy to dismiss when one could say she was programmed as such. “Having this fail safe is assuming the Stark line will cease to exist.”
A weary man sat before a holo interface. Sadness and pain etched into every line of his aging face. He knew, somehow deep in his bones, that he wasn’t going to survive this war. That he wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones to go home at the end of this. The thought tore at his heart.
“It would be incredibly naïve not to have a plan for when the world inevitably needs heroes who use more than just their muscles and small-minded bird brains.”
“I understand Sir. Where would you like me to store Project RIFF?” the robotic voice inquires.
The man doesn’t hesitate with his response, unshaken in his resolve.
“Let it be buried into the net. I want it to be activated when things are going down a path where those like me and our team are needed.” He stood, body encased in a dented and scuffed suit of red and gold metal that clanged softly with each step. As he moved toward the middle of the room he let his eyes wander. The place was dark with more than just the shadows that the lights had cast. A broken shell of a helmet; a lens shattered as it laid beside a sketch of a spider silhouette. He could remember when it’d happened. With eyes that shone with unshed tears, he spoke, “When the world has just about forgotten about the Avengers.”
It was silent for a moment, like the voice was thinking. Which wouldn’t be too far off, as she was programmed to do a lot of it herself. Still, she hesitated to answer her creator.
“Of course, Sir. Initiating Project RIFF. Please remain still for the scan...”
YEAR 24**
"Wow! So cool!" a young boy with sparkling emerald eyes exclaimed as he watched his best friend Kacchan shoot off colorful sparks from his hands.
A blond toddler close to the other boy’s age laughed loudly as other children and caretakers alike praised his new and flashy quirk. Green curls bounced as the bright-eyed toddler watched from only a small distance away. His mind immediately went to all the cool ways his friend could use his explosions to become a hero. The little boy had no doubt that Kacchan would be an amazing hero! Kacchan deserved a quirk as awesome as he is. He couldn’t wait to get his quirk so they could be heroes together! Izuku and Kacchan! Number One Hero!
Green eyes looked down at the tiny hands in front of him, itching to write down his thoughts to show Kacchan. His friend was not always the nicest person. But he always helped Izuku make sure his notes were right when it came to heros. Why would this be any different? Kacchan is going to be a hero one day after all.
Years flew by for them all. Izuku remembered the day his life changed. It was just a simple doctor's visit. The dreaded doctor visit. A dream shattered but not yet broken by a few simple words and a diagnosis. Like he was sick… unwell. His mothers words apologizing to him rather than comforting him. The taunts. The names. Worthless, freak, fragile.
Deku.
Then followed the bruises and burns that he would hide to spare his mother from unnecessary worry. The glances and the shuffles away like he was tainted in some unfathomable way and if they weren’t careful he’d infect them too. He’d seen the term “Untouchable” in his readings once, a while ago. When he was still learning about what his diagnosis meant for him. He never told his father during their weekly phone calls the words they flung his way each day.
“Why?” His thoughts would echo in the confines of his mind, safe from prying eyes. “Why am I different? Why am I quirk-less? Why? Just why?”
He stopped talking as much, slowly trying to erase his presence in order to make the target on his back less appealing. He stopped trusting his teachers to do anything about the words. Not when all they did was encourage it instead when he brought it to their attention. Saying it was his fault. That he was the troublemaker. He stopped expecting adults to care about him. Why would he when they always told him to give up his dream and be realistic.
Despite it all his determination never wavered for a second. His will to become a hero only grew stronger. His notes came quicker and more detailed. Instead of general hero trivia that anyone can find, he began startling in depth analysis for a young child. He studied more and more to correct his notes and findings. His habit of muttering became an outlet when his thoughts became too much to hold in.
"Oi! Deku!" Kacchan yelled at the small green-haired boy. 'Deku' looked up and met bright red eyes.
"Yes Kacchan?" the boy answered immediately, happy to be acknowledged by the blond since he stopped talking to him again.
He must have upset Kacchan really badly for him to deliberately not talk to him. Kacchan snarled as he looked down and saw the messy scrawling in the notebook atop the other boy's desk. As his eyes scanned the writing he began to growl.
"What'd I say about writin' stuff like that about my quirk? You creepy quirk-less stalker!"
Quicker than the nine-year-old could react, Bakugou snatched the notebook from the desk and with little fanfare, immediately exploded the page. Deku watched in horror as the entire thing caught fire and started to crumble into ash.
"No!" he cried and tears prickled at his eyes. The red-eyed bully scoffed as he released the charred remains of the notebook. They hit the floor with a soft plap .
The blond child invaded his space, snarling as he spoke. "Don't ever let me catch you writing that shit about me again Deku,” Bakugou spat in his face, malice dripping like venom in his words. “I don't want some stupid extra learning anything from your damn notes. You're worthless.” Bakugou Katsuki didn't spare a glance back as he stalked away from the teary-eyed boy.
Later that night Midoryia Izuku cried as he looked at the pile of ash he had brought home.
"Why can't things be the way they used to be?"
The young boy ponders his own question before heading to sleep, his new hero notebook safe within his book bag with the hope that the weekend is better. After all, they had a trip to the library tomorrow. Maybe he could find more books on hero analysis to improve his note taking. He'd already completed the book he checked out last month and was ready to start another one. Maybe he could look into codes so no one could read his notes. Maybe Kacchan wouldn’t destroy his next book if Izuku is caught again.