Humans are ugly creatures. We gain pleasure from the suffering of others, and we let it happen to others because hey, rather them than me right? This was a lesson I first learned at the age of four. My mother had taken me to a quirk specialist, for me it was to be my special day. I’d finally find out what my quirk was to be, and with that I’d be able to help people.. be a hero. Maybe if alternate universes exist there was a Midoriya Izuku who got something really powerful, but for me? That wasn’t to be the case. I’m not going to pretend the words haunt me, maybe once they did, but now it’s just history. “Misses Midoriya, I’m afraid little Izuku is Quirkless”. Quirkless, statistically unlikely but it had to be someone.
At the time I was devastated, my mother devastated on my behalf as well. She wanted to take me to every quirk specialist across Japan but it’s not like it was an economically feasible plan. It didn’t take long for my fellow school pupils to connect the dots. Katsuki… he was always intelligent, but was also arrogant. The result was that he bullied me for years, I became the ‘Quirkless Deku’. As the years passed the treatment got worse, my mental state soon nosedived alongside that. By the time I reached eleven everyday was a struggle to live just one. more. day.
At age twelve I snapped, I brought a knife from home to school and I was fully prepared to use it. The usual routine continued as normal, I arrived perfectly on time to avoid the gaze of entering late and the wastefulness of being early. I shut up, head low and got work done. During lunch I avoided human contact like the plague, but where there’s a Katsuki searching, there’s always a way to be found. And of course, I was backed into a corner. The sky was grey with clouds, the air had a wet copper smell to it. Each step towards me corresponded with an increase in heart rate. Left right straight ahead no. Like a wounded lion under threat from a poacher I was becoming desperate. Katsuki got some sick pleasure from it, watching as I hopelessly realised there was no escape. His prey was cornered, a successful hunt about to culminate.
“Deku”. My eyes shut, my breathing slowed, clarity. I opened my eyes and produced the knife from my bag, being careful to keep it hidden from view. I smiled the way one does upon seeing a loved one.
“Kacchan” I breathed. Using what speed I had, I ran into Katsuki, forcing him onto the ground. By this point he saw the knife as it rapidly descended towards his face. Instead of metal it was tears that Katsuki felt, but they punctured all the same. I was laughing, I was crying, I was a mess.
“I almost did it. Isn’t that funny Kacchan? Isn’t it? Me, a Quirkless Deku has your life in my hands… don’t ignore me Katsuki! Tell me it’s funny!” At this point I descended into nonsensical babbling. I got off Katsuki and sat against a wall, Katsuki stood up and walked away. Hours later Auntie Mitsuki was demanding to speak to my mother, the next day I was brought into custody by police officers. I was guilty before I even stepped foot in the courtroom, I was the ‘Quirkless and apparently now Psychotic Deku’ after all. I ended up getting the best possible outcome, not guilty by reason of insanity. I was put into mental health related custody with no set release. I could only be released once the doctors were convinced I was no longer a threat to society.