I Don't Need A "Quirk"

-} One {-

When Izuku Midoriya was told he would be quirkless for his whole life . . . It crushed him. 

Not even his mother would just tell him what he needed to hear. 

He didn't need a quirk to be a hero, to help people. 

That's all he wanted to do, couldn't they see that? He didn't want fame, he didn't want people to know him, nor did he want wealth-he just wanted to save people. He wanted to be there when people needed him, he wanted to put on a brave smile that told everyone; everything is going to be just fine. 

But . . . No on would give him that smile. No one would look at him and tell him it would be fine. 

No they all just look at him with pity or disgust, maybe both. 

His so-called "best friend" left him like he was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his tiny shoe, just because he wouldn't get a power. 

Izuku couldn't wrap his mind around it, why couldn't he help too? There were plenty of heroes who's quirks weren't typically suited for battle-they made it just fine by finding ways to use it . . . Eraserhead had always been a favorite of Izuku, however underground the hero was. 

But they did have a quirk. 

But-

They aren't a worthless Deku. 

Neither am I-

Yes you are, Kacchan said as much. 

No-

Yes.

No-

Yes-

NO!

No he wouldn't just take this laying down. 

They wanted to doubt him? They wanted to try and keep him from helping people? 

Fine. 

He just had to prove them all wrong. Even his own mother. 

He got that it was dangerous, however it was like that for everyone. The whole point of being a hero is for someone who can step up and protect, to do so for those who can't. And he could protect, he just needed the skills. He would just have to train even more than those with quirks. 

So, he started his notebooks. 

Even at the age of four, he had always been advanced compared to those around him. Kacchan had always been the closest to him-intellect wise-but even the explosive boy couldn't touch him when it came to prowess of the mind. 

The young boy spent hours pouring over hero videos, news casts, and anything else he could get his chubby little hands on. He would write and write and write until the information was burned into his head, messy handwriting aside. 

As the years past, and Izuku got a little older, his handwriting getting better along with his spelling, he re-wrote his original notebooks. 

Along with other things . . . 

Kacchan was the one to give him the idea-what with the blonde quite literally exploding at him everyday. 

An eight-year-old Izuku padded up to his mother, big green eyes sparking with determination and fire to prove himself. "Mommy?" He asked, round cheeks blown wide as he frowned and twisted his hands in the bottom of his shirt. 

"Yes, Dear?" His mother knelt in front of him, her round face pulled into a look of confusion at why her ray-of-sunshine was frowning. 

"Can I take self-defense lessons? Some of the other kids have been trying to pick on me, and I think it might help. I won't ever use it unless in self-defense or helping someone!" The tiny, green haired boy asked with convection. His mother seemed stunned, blinking wide green eyes that were twin to the emeralds shining from Izuku.