At the ripe old age of four, Mikumo learned something.
Not everyone was born equal.
His quirk never manifested, and the doctors told him that no matter how hard he hoped, it most likely never would. That day when Midoriya Inko brought little Mikumo home from the clinic, she let the child hide into his room so she could discuss things with her spouse. The look on Hisashi’s face was blank as she quietly spoke. She didn’t know what to think of it.
The next morning Mikumo woke up earlier than he wanted to. The time he cried himself to sleep the day before must’ve thrown off his sleep schedule for the day. He slipped out of his room, expecting at least one of his parents to be up. Instead he saw something that made him wonder if he was still asleep. It was a note on the fridge.
“He’s bad for business.” It said. The sight of it made Mikumo’s heart race. He scrambled into his parent’s room, only finding his mom sleeping soundly. He ran back out to look at the note again, only this time he noticed their front door being slightly open. He didn’t even bother closing the door all the way, Mikumo thought.
His mom did a well enough job hiding her grief in front of him, but her still heard her own sobs late at night.
Life couldn’t have been worse for them… Can it?
It was more than 8 years later. Mikumo had been running late, due to the usual bullying he endured. He strolled up the street towards his own apartment complex. He sniffed the air, smelling smoke. His eyes trailed up to constant stream of it coming from a building. Wait a second, that’s MY building! Mikumo sprinted home, up the stairs and directly into his apartment. He reeled back as flames threatened to consume him.
“Mom?!” He called, frantically letting his eyes take in all information. She was nowhere to be seen. He moved towards the burning apartment, covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt. He’s seen a few pros instruct victims to do this, so it must be a good thing. What had started the fire? His mom was always so good about kitchen safety! What he does notice terrifies him.
All the fire seems to have started at a certain height. More specifically, the height of his father. He pushes away the vile thought as he continues searching for his mother. He opened the door to her bedroom, and vomited.
There was his mother alright, charred and burned and broken. His mind went into overdrive, thinking that no, it can’t possibly be her. His thoughts running a million different scenarios that could’ve happened. All thoughts came to a sudden holt when his eye caught the shine of her wedding ring on her finger. It confirmed it was her. His mother was dead. There was nothing for him here. He moved to get out of the burning apartment, when he got distracted by a large creaking sound.
The building crashed on him before he could even plant a foot down to run.
The fire kicked up, and consumed the wood on the support beams that pinned him down. He screamed for dear life, until his voice became rough and strained. No matter how hard he screamed, it did nothing to stop the flames that consumed him as well.
He wakes up with a strong inhale, as if his body was being jump started. It leads to him coughing violently and falling off the table. Wait, table? He looks around, now in a medical facility of some sort. He sees the metal table he was on, then his eyes settle on the medical tools next to it.
“Oh no.” He breathes. It’s a morgue. There’s nothing else it could be. He looks around for clues as to what happened, when he feels the sudden urge to vomit again. His mother’s corpse is on the opposite side of the room. Mikumo forces himself to look away from her. Her? It? How does one refer to a corpse-
He snaps out of it.
On the table with the tools, he sees a folder. Every possible thing that he can think of being in that folder makes him grow uneasy. In the end, he decides to snatch it and get it over with. It’s him. Photos of him, that is. If he were charred bbq like his mother, that is. He doesn’t understand what happened? He knows he burned to death shortly after his mother must have, but he can’t grasp why he’s no longer burned. If he didn’t know better, he’d say he’s actually feeling pretty good right now.
“Do I have a quirk…?” He wonders. There’s no way. What kind of cruel world would this be! To deem him quirkless and subject him to bullying. Being quirkless is the very reason he’s in this situation to begin with! Yet here he is, looking as healthy as ever. Now that he thinks about it… He did always heal rather quickly from his classmates torment. Not once did it ever cross his mind that he had some kind of quirk.
I can’t stay here. He realizes upon seeing his time of death scrawled over a paper. There is, however, one majorly important detail that would hinder any escape.
“My clothes either must’ve burned off, or have been removed in preparation for the autopsy. Wait. Ohmygoddidtheydoanautopsyonme-” Mikumo chokes, frantically searching for any evidence that they did. They must’ve taken that information with them to look over, he thinks. He raids the medical closets and cabinets for any scrap of clothing he can get his hands on. He finds scrubs and a white lab coat. Fighting through the guilt of theft, he packs a duffle bag he finds full of medical supplies he’ll surely need. There’s nothing else he’ll need right? Maybe there’s something useful- “Oh.” He hums thoughtfully. The wedding ring fits onto his index finger. He may not have the best feelings towards the man who gave this to her, but she loved it. He will too.
It doesn’t take much for Mikumo to escape through the window.
Mikumo is dead. At least, that seems to be the case legally. What does he even do now!? He doesn’t want to put up for adoption! What if the foster home he’s put into doesn’t approve of his drive to become a hero? What if he doesn’t get adopted because he’s quirkless!? Wait, he’s not quirkless anymore what does--
“Hey kid, sorry to interrupt your muttering but I need a suitable hostage. I’m sure you won’t mind.” Before Mikumo can think of an appropriate response, his throat is grabbed by a man with a knife. It seems his quirk gives him the appearance of a fish, but nothing useful in this situation.
“Sir, please let me go.” Usually Mikumo’s voice would stutter and tremble, or he’d tear up. Right now there was absolutely nothing. If anything, he was just tired. “I’m having a really bad day.”
“Don’t try and be a hero, kid. I just need a hostage so I can get the money I need to live a good life.” They’re under a bridge, hidden by the shadows of the overpass.
“I’m not trying to be a hero. We’re where literally no one can see us so I don’t really see the point in a hostage being taken here.” The kid planned on sounding as calm as he could manage, but everything comes out in a blob of words.
“See,” The man laughs. “I was being chased. When they catch up you’ll be useful.” Comedically on cue, the sewer cap pops up into the air. From what, an increase in air pressure?
“HAVE NO FEAR.” The sewer yells.
“Oh my gosh.” Mikumo starts, watching the Symbol of Peace himself hurl himself out of the sewer and onto the pavement.
“BECAUSE I AM HERE!” He shouts. Mikumo swears that he can feel the vibration of his voice in his bones.
“Don’t come any closer!” The man presses the knife harder into the child's neck, but not enough to fully cut. “I have demands!”
“To hold a child hostage…. Are you crazy?” All Might asks with a serious tone. “No matter.” The man moves sooner than All Might hopes. He panicked, Mikumo thinks as the man swipes the blade across his throat. He feels bad for the blood spurt staining All Might’s white shirt.
All Might is fuming.
Fuming? Mikumo thinks it’s more like steam coming off of his body.
His body hits the ground with a thud, and in less than five seconds, the villain hits the ground beside him.
“Young man, I will call for help! I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you.” Couldn’t save him? That’s right, he slit Mikumo’s throat open. The boy sits up, feeling that there is no longer a wound. He feels fine.
“Don’t call for help, I’m okay!” Mikumo gets up. I’m in shock. My favorite hero ever! The fanboy in him is ready to faint.
“Young man!” All Might rushes over. “Gave me quite a scare there!” All Might gives a heart-filled laugh, cut off by a coughing a fit and a handful of blood. It has to be shock. I’d be crying and asking if he were alright.
“Sorry.” He says sheepishly. He has so many things weighing on his mind, so many questions he wants to ask. All of them are interrupted by All Might throwing the villain over his shoulder, ready to leave. “Can I ask you a question before you go?” He barely manages to mutter.
“Of course, young man!”
“Can I be a hero without a quirk? Or with a useless one?” The last question he adds quickly, remembering that he now has one.
“That man killed me. It was brief but it happened. I have…” The knife wound healed itself, along with other injuries he’s had growing up. Even if he never noticed it. “A regeneration quirk of sorts.” All Might seems to think of what to say.
“Young man, while that’s a great quirk for you to have as self defense, I don’t see how it could be used to help others. If you didn’t use a quirk to be a hero, then there's only one answer.” No… “You cannot be a hero.”
“Oh.” His number one hero shatters his dream after he went through the death of his mother. He should feel awful, sad, broken. He doesn’t, though. He feels something like anger, but not quite.
“For the report, I need a name.” All Might awkwardly asks, realizing what he’s made of the conversation. A name?
Mikumo thinks back, recalling a conversation he had with his mother. When picking a name for when he was born, they were always tied between two. Mikumo won, and was his father's favorite. The other name was one his mother really wanted.
“Izuku.” He gives.