Chapter Text
Izuku didn’t think he liked the doctor, even though he was expecting to like them. After all, this doctor specialized in quirks, and that was soooooo cool!
But after being examined by him, Izuku was sure.
He really did NOT like the man.
He smelled bad, and every time Izuku could see his eyes, ‘cause mostly they hid behind extra shiny glasses, they looked like the boy at school that used to hurt little things like flies ‘n ants ‘n things, and took the other kids treats, before that kid was taken away and they all got told how to be nice.
They even got stars for bein’ nice now, which Izuku loved, cause stars were the bestest ever!
But just like that kid, the man had eyes that were greedy, and happy but not happy with Izuku, but at him, which was nasty, and scary, just like that boy’d been.
But even when mamma argued it didnt matter, Izuku was quirkless and that was that.
It was okay with Izuku, cause he didn't need a quirk to be a hero, an’ he just wanted to get away from the bad doctor so he tugged and pulled and finally got mamma to take him home.
*-*
“What da ya mean ya don’ have a quirk?”
And oh, that was Kacchan’s angry voice, so Izuku scooted his chair and drawing back because sadly, and yep, Izuku sighed as his friend exploded.
Verbally and sparks, which was both cool and not cool, and got Kacchan a time out.
Then when he got back to his chair he gave Izuku a long long look and said, “I don’t believe in you any more.” and turned away, which was the meanest thing Kacchan’d ever done.
Lots of people didn't believe in Izuku, he ‘n Kacchan’d talked about it a few times, especially how sad it made Izuku when they did it, so for him to join in was just really mean.
But Kaccchan sometimes was, so Izuku’d be patient and his friend would come around and it’d be good again.
*-*
It wasn't good.
Not only had Kacchan not stopped playing the Izuku-Isn't-Real game but Sensei was playing it too now, and all the kids had joined in, even Kewashi who had the amazing snake mutation.
She’d been the last one, the very last one to not join in the game and when she too walked right at him, forcing Izuku to jump out of the way to avoid being run into, he’d cried, jumping up and down and yelling and even pushed her but nope, the game’d won.
At school now Izuku was all alone.
*-*
He was eight when mamma started playing it too, but at least he was better at it now too.
Figuring out how to keep to edges of spaces, never where people could get at him from all directions, not let anyone knock into him, seeing where everyone was, and where they were going, and where they might go just to keep out of their way, learned to do his work at school even if it always got thrown away, learned to play on his own, how to find any fun at all and as many ways not to get hurt as possible, which was really important, cause the school nurse played Izuku’s-Not-Real too.
After getting the entire class in trouble for putting notes on Sensei’s desk that one time, Izuku’d given up and played the game too, it was just easier.
Glumly making his own bento because Mamma didn’t do it any more, Izuku sighed, cause his life was really sad.
*-*
Masked up, gloves on, hat snugged tight, thick jacket on, Izuku was ready for school, day one, a brand new ten years old, dreading it most mightily yet going anyway because good boys go to school.
He didn't even make it to the school door, instead he was caught up in a stampede as crowds ran from a villain attack.
His extra clothing, all but the mask which was for germs, was to protect from the buffets he couldn't dodge as he walked the streets to school, and they halfway protected him now, but not much really helped against a large man tripping right over you.
Rolling and scrambling as hard feet kicked and tripped over and hurt him, the instant he got to the protection of crouching almost under a parked car, Izuku turned and headed home, snaking through the alleys and back passages, longer maybe but not as many people and he need to be home, needed it so bad.
He hurt, everything hurt, especially knowing he’d have to sit on the floor at school the first few days until he found a chair to drag into class because no one’d set one out for him, or ever even call his name for attendance.
Or care if he showed up or not, so home was better, even if just as lonely.
Taking care of his scrapes and bruises as soon as he got home cause he’d gotten an infected cut or two in the past, he cried as he crawled into bed, knowing no one was gonna take care of him, no one loved him enough to stop playing the game, he was still crying as he fell asleep, and still crying as he dreamed!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something was chasing him, run run run trip stumble look back black shape red eyes long lashing tendrils -
Realizing naked, "I’m naked!" as his willy flapped with each jolting stride, running running running but crowds were thick, arms elbows knees kicking hitting hurting buffeted as he tried to get away -
A voice big as mountains yelling "TURN IT OFF!"
Grabbed shaken hurt scared so scared please soundless screaming and then silence, emptiness -
A hisssssing scream from a figure mountains tall and a million times more scary, lava tears pouring out of the hero's empty eye sockets - “Turn off your quirk!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Izuku jolted upright, sweat soaked from terror, too frightened even to scream!
He’d only just discovered Eraserhead, found him in a deep dive into the darker side of heroics, and Izuku flopped back into bed as his heart hammered, gasping for breaths, trying to calm himself down.
Dreams were stupid, Eraserhead was a hero, a good hero, he wouldn't chase a naked kid down a packed city street, or anywhere really, so it was stooooopid.
Turn off your quirk was even stupider.
Izuku didn’t have -
A
Quirk
To
Turn
Off
Laying in bed, still panting from the wicked nightmare, the realization of it all flooded Izuku with a single, blazing, epiphany.
And filled him with how stupid he really, really, was.
He'd had a quirk all along.
No one in existence played a game so pointless as Izuku-Doesn’t-Exist, like, how stupid is it possible to be and still be alive.
Looking back at the last five years, seeing it with the lens of having a quirk, he went all the way back to the doctor who diagnosed him quirkless.
The expression of nasty enjoyment as he’d done it.
The man had known, clearly known, and done it anyway.
The feeling he got in that moment was too big for tears, too big for screaming, too big for anything really and he lay, aching and sore and let the memories play like a movie, seen now through a quirk effect lens.
It took him most of the week, that he spent in bed, to recover from the revelation.
Most of it dealing with how he could be so terminally stupid?
But he had the internet, a working brain, a computer that was very old indeed but mostly worked - except for the @ key but he could copy and past one when he needed it - so he worked away at it bit by bit, and learned all sorts of new things, like how he was almost zero socialized despite being in a classroom every single day.
How he was very smart - several online tests proved that - but how he had almost zero understanding on how the world worked as regards to actual people going about their lives as a social species.
How even though he’d believed something incredibly stupid, he’d come up with it at four years of age, when his quirk started affecting people, and no one on earth was there to show him what he thought wasn't real.
In fact, time alone proved the game real to him, when even his mother did it too.
So he gave himself a pass, made a note to do the online stuff recommended for helping get rid of feeling stupid, and started working on…. what next?
Because if he had a quirk that made him not real to everyone around him then how in the heckin world was he gonna become real again?
*-*
Studying quirks had been his favorite thing to do as long as he could remember, and it was no wonder the snake mutation girl was the last to fall under his quirk, cause she used other senses than the usual, so it took his one longer to trick her, to erase him.
His mamma too, he was in such close proximity to her it took a long time for his quirk to ramp up enough to erase him from her perception, or maybe it worked different for some people than others?
It must work on things he used a lot as well, like the desk at school and his room too in a way cause she never came in, it was one of the reasons why he always wore a mask when out in the world, he couldn't afford to get sick.
The few times he had, it’d been bad, all alone as he, well, it was just bad!
So if he could affect his space to make it not real to her, not just him but an entire ROOM….
Pondering it he came up with, “How strong am I?”
Cause he was invisible in a crowd, invisible on public transportation, invisible at school and where he sat at school didn’t exist for people which he knew because after the first few days he didn't have to worry about anyone coming close and his room at home so it wasn’t just him, was it.
“It has to be a field of perception, rather than just me, so, lots and lots of tests! Tests I can do great, first off if I - ”
*-*
Smoothing bruise cream on a brand new collection of owies, because he’d been working with crowd perceptions today and he’d been run over a lot!
But he’d learned if he was carrying it, no one could see it, even if it was a ten foot pole with a flag on the end - and wasn't that hard to manage - learned if he used any kind of amplifier he could get hold of, it didn't matter, no one could hear him, even pushing people over didn’t get them to see him, and he could hold anyone's hand and they’d never even notice.
He’d done the hand holding test a lot, because even if they didn’t know he was there, holding hands was nice!
The only remaining tests of that nature was trying to prank call people, and see if he could set up a speaker to test if he could be heard over electronics, maybe send out more emails but so far that was a dud cause he'd gotten no replies but doing more was for the future, he was waaaaay behind in his school work, so he got busy that way for a bit, letting the normal un-normality of his life ease some of the hurt feelings tangled up inside of him.
Knowing how some of his quirk worked helped a lot!
Learning to work around his quirk made him feel good too, gave him hope, because quirks could be controlled, well, most of them could, and his might be in the control it category, and until he figured THAT bit out, he was gonna take advantage of it.
Because if no one could perceive him, then joining things like Dojos was easy, and he was gonna be a hero!
And mess with his once friend cause Kacchan was getting worse and worse all the time now.
*-*
School was so much better now that he was grading himself!
Easier too, although not because he cheated!
But he could easy peasy go into the staff room to check his work against the actual teachers books, and he was doing pretty good, and he spent time in lots of classrooms now, especially the advanced ones because pushing himself made him feel better.
Doing really good with all the extra classes outside of school he was taking too, even if he didn't get to actually join in.
But he could learn the forms, learn the moves, learn the techniques and then try to use them in the real world.
Moving through crowds was easier now too, he got hurt less and less. Going out more and more was important as well because, summer break an ocean of open time in front of him, why not go out?
NO ONE could see him.
He might get run down or knocked over or hurt in any number of interesting ways, but never on purpose.
One day he’d even start going out at night, but for now he’d go out during the day and hunt heroes, cause if anyone out there could see him, it’d be a hero!
*-*
Eleven today, he’d stolen the stuff and baked himself a cake, cause no one else would and his mamma only seemed to eat take away for some reason.
But he was a full year older now, he’d spent the entire year learning lots of stuff, and he had to push more, learn more, cause he had to teach himself, and being afraid of the dark was stupid.
So, waiting for night to fall, out he went.
Shaking in fear, creeping along walls, huddling into the shelter of alleys, it took him weeks to get over that fear and become comfortable being outside after dark, although actually using the parkour he’d learned at the official park did help.
Watching the youths doing their moves always inspired him, because not only was it a safe-ish place to hang out at night, but heroes used the rooves of the city as well as the streets, so now here he was, doing it too.
Badly.
But he kept going, kept working, because he knew he could do it!
*-*
This time he took a cake, rather than baked it himself, because he spent hardly any time at home now.
He was a big twelve today, months spent on the streets, he was roaming miles from home, backpack stuffed with things he’d found he needed, especially first aid cause at first he fell a lot.
Of course it didn't help him at all that his quirk meant his voice didn’t work over the phone either, because how in hell could he get help if he needed it, or get it for anyone if he saw them in trouble?
Keeping to better neighborhoods helped with that when he was younger but not now he was working even harder to train for entrance exams, but he’d found if he took notes and pictures, left them out of his field of power for a few days, eventually it wore off!
He might be imperceptible to anyone, but what he wrote could be seen! But only after it sat for a few hours to a few days - depending on how long he'd had the paper anyway - well away from him and his influence.
Getting the entire class detention for a week not long ago by putting notes on the desk when he was doing his new experiments was bad for them but good for him, because he could pass information, just, not much, and not easily, not something useful like on the computer cause he evaporated from those, no email, no messenger, no chat, no, well, anything.
But words on a page and printed pictures worked.
He remembered when the police were called about the notes he’d put on the desk, days of them, telling Sensei who he was, what was going on, how badly he needed help!!! A desperate last ditch effort to save himself when nothing he did would turn his quirk off.
He’d followed the cops home when they went to investigate his mamma, sat in the car with them even, and he’d had hope for a bit because they did go in, did talk to his mamma, but everyone was confused, no one spotted his room even, and eventually they’d wandered out and mamma promptly forgot all about it.
So, weird and stupid and futile, a bit like him really.
Creeping into the local police station he held an envelope in two fingers, dodging heavy adut bodies as he dropped it on a desk and scarpered, because the less contact he had with a place the better, but the drug deal he’d overheard earlier seemed like a big deal.
Having learned from his online research that he needed a hobby, that it'd be good for his mental health, he’d taken up photography when he turned thirteen, both as a way to prove the things he saw to the cops so they’d investigate them, and a way to prove, to himself anyway, that he existed!
It’d taken him lots of tries to find a camera and medium that his presence alone didn’t erase, but polaroid and solid film cameras worked for him - as long as he didn’t try selfies anyway - so he used the speed of the instant development polaroid for trouble spotting at night cause the one he’d taken from the camera shop was an awesome bit of kit, and the slow relaxed developing-his-own-film-in-his-converted-closet camera for his hobby.
After all, if no one could perceive him, he could get amazingly candid pictures, and wildlife too!
Smiling, he helped himself to a vending machine, because he’d learned so many ways to get money it wasn't even funny.
Because yes he wanted to be a hero, but he didn't exist, not even to mamma, so stealing pocket change just made life a little bit easier!
*-*
His grand plan had come about a while ago, had been tweaked for years, and now here he was, almost fifteen, the perfect plan in place and about to hit GO.
The How-To-Be-A-Hero-While-Not-Actually-Existing - plan.
Looking up at the big building, pressed to the side wall out of ingrained self-preservation training, he was miles early but the crowds were building regardless so he pushed off and sprinted, seeing his line and sticking to it, even as it shifted to accommodate the moving people between him and the doors.
He’d had years to practice moving through crowds, he was good at it now, the trip and tumble was rolled off as he hit a sprint to slide through the doors as they closed behind a group of kids, laughing and clearly keyed up with the excitement of the day.
Whoooofing out a relieved breath he skidded to press against the far wall and shimmied along, looking at signs and listening to the chatter.
Easy enough to find the right room.
Not for the written exam, he’d already done four mock tests and aced them all, so he’d not bother.
His plan didn't need him to pass, just take part.
So he sat, munching on the snacks he’d brought, and simply waited until someone clearly aimed for where he was sitting.
Sighing as he flipped up and over the back of the chair, grinning at the brief handstand, he took up a place against the back wall, and when his fifth favorite hero in existence yelled "HEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!" Izuku yelled it right back!
Even if no one heard him.
Because Izuku was even stronger now, knew no one in the room could feel him, but he gritted his teeth at the wave of futility that swept him, he had a plan, and by gods he was going through with it.
Listening hard as Present Mic explained it all, he laughed at the hidden joke of the zero pointer, made damned sure to NOT join Kacchan’s group - maybe one day his one time friend would know he existed but that wouldn't be today and Kacchan was dangerous!
Spending time to look at the milling wanna be students, he joined the second group that were walking, because a bus really would be too much effort.
Thankfully Kacchan wasn’t in that one, so tailing along carefully Izuku made it to the huge closed gates, wondering how any school had this much money!
Skirting the bunch of excited kids Izuku got right to the front, and the instant the doors began to open he was inside and running.
Thirty minutes to kill as many robots as possible, with the option - because seriously, this was UA and ruled by a demon - of hidden agendas.
Bring it!
*-*
Curled in a corner of a shattered building, bleeding from various scrapes, cuts, road rash from a particularly aggressive save tackle, Izuku felt so many things.
But mostly tired and in pain.
He’d kept track of his points, giving himself an arbitrary amount for each student saved by him, roughly guessed the surveillance bots he’d spotted might be a points based target and given himself a bracketed twenty points for those, not an official number for his total but it made him happy.
He deducted some for the damage he’d done when a brick he’d thrown smashed a window cause heroes had to avoid collateral damage, given himself a few extra in his bracketed amount for the damage he’d avoided happening by redirecting a few high powered and gung-ho kids onto different trajectories and…
Mostly used a length of fence post and a lifetime's worth of pent up frustration to smash as many robots as possible.
But only for the first ten minutes.
Because every one he took out was one someone else didn't get.
And he was proving to himself that he deserved to go with his plan, not trying to keep anyone else out of UA.
Other than that short kid who’d trapped a girl against the wall, just stuck her to it so, well, perhaps kicking them across the road was a bit much but she’d been crying and he’d been reaching to, yeah, without knowing how to grade that one he gave it a tentative pass and moved on.
Scraping himself up once the last stragglers were almost out of sight, he set of to make his way home, giving himself a passing grade.
Plan hero was a go.