Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku, like every other kid, dreams to be a hero. What’s different about Izuku? Oh, he’s quirkless. He doesn’t have a power like everyone else, but he still reaches for the sun. Now you might be thinking, ‘well, why let that stop him?’ You’d be right, he wouldn’t let that stop him. It’s just one little thing…
He doesn’t have a pokémon either.
When everyone went to get a pokémon all the other kids went up and demanded the pokémon join them on their journey. Bakugou even got a Cindaquil, a shiny one. Izuku hadn’t demanded, he’d asked. He’d shown interest but waited for the pokémon to approach him. It seemed he was loved by pokémon, just none of them wanted to be his partner.
Well, Izuku was tired of being the only one without, It was about one year to the U.A. entrance exam. That is if he could pass or even be admitted without a pokémon. The other children were all showing off and battling, and he was left on the sidelines… that is until Bakugou decided he needed something less responding than an opposing pokémon to vent his anger on. Surprisingly, the Cindaquil, who had evolved into a Quilava, wouldn’t attack Izuku directly, only sit by and watch, sorrowful.
He wanted to be a hero! He wanted to be a trainer and bring his pokémon with him, to fight side-by-side. But he can’t do that because he couldn’t befriend one.
He was hiding in the bushes outside as all the other kids played during their break when suddenly a blur crashed through the bushes and into his side. It was a bloody mess, but from what he could see it was small, baby blue, and cat-like. He took one look at the slashes down its side and almost panicked before he remembered the medical supplies he began carrying in his bag since Kacchan got his quirk.
He digs them out quickly, just a meagre bundle: a water bottle, a dishrag, a roll of gauze, bandage padding, and a few potions, for this sort of event. It’s uncannily common to find Izuku treating the pokémon of Kacchan’s targets, but now this pokémon needs him. So he picks himself up off the ground where he fell and begins to clean the pokémon’s wounds. After a few minutes, once he’s cleaned, wrapped, and double-checked all the wounds, he sat back and spoke absently to the pokémon, which he thought was unconscious.
“Who would have done this? Who am I kidding, I’ve never even heard of a pokémon like you before. You must be at least a rare pokémon, and there are too many bad trainers out there that would catch you simply for the fame of it. Some pretty bad heroes too, like Endeavor. They must be truly evil to have injured you so and then chased after you… that is if you were being chased.”
“I was… being chased, I mean.”
Izuku looked up, eyes haunted, “thought so. You talk differently.”
“It’s telepathy. I’m projecting my words to your mind. Why weren’t you surprised? Usually, a human would freak out if I talked to them.”
“Well, I’ve spent so much time with so many different pokémon—not that any of them wanted to join my team—that I’ve just learnt to understand. I can understand pokémon when they talk now. I didn’t realize it was all one language, just one that was understood on a more spiritual and emotional level. By connecting with them, and preferring their company over that of other humans, I guess that switch in my soul was released.
“I’m surprised,” the pokémon spoke normally now. “Usually no human can understand us, it really is a bummer to see my brethren unable to communicate with their partners. Perhaps you just haven’t found the right pokémon yet?”
“I’ve seen just about every pokémon that lives in this country, aside from legendaries or mythicals of course.” The pokémon was beginning to look angry but Izuku didn’t notice. “But they wouldn’t let themselves get caught, and for good reason. There are too many who would use their power to do great evil. They are the protectors of all pokémon, and some people too, they can’t really do that stuck in the pokéball of some irrational, fame-hungry, hero upstart, can they? I guess no one is worthy of them, and I can see why.” The pokémon’s anger had dissipated, and it was back to staring curiously.
“Do you have a pokéball, child?” Izuku looked up.
“Of course I do. I always have it around my neck in case I find the one. By the way, I never asked. What kind of pokémon are you? Or what’s your name?”
“I-I…” The cat-like creature took a chance, all or nothing. “I am Mew, a mythical pokémon to you humans, and a shiny at that.”
Izuku looked up in shock, eyes wide and mouth gaping. His jaw snapped shut unceremoniously and he said to Mew, “well, you might not wanna hang out with me. I can’t protect you when you’re hurt. You should go home, you could come back if the wounds get any worse… I-I... I don’t wanna be the reason a Mythical Pokémon loses its freedom.”
Mew looked at the boy in wonder. He wasn’t going to try catching him? ‘Well then, and quirkless at that. He wants to be a hero, that much is obvious from his mind, and he has a heart of gold and steel. Ever determined, constantly put down, but always helpful. Now, this is a trainer I can join that won’t take my freedom.’
“And what if I wanted to join you,” asked Mew, “what if I wanted to be your first pokemon?”
The boy’s eyes lit up with hope for a moment, then dulled again. “But then everyone would know what you were, and they would take you away from me. They would steal you, hurt you again, I don’t want that.”
“I can play the part of a different pokémon if you want, I can transform.”
“Won’t that aggravate your wounds?”
“No, the bandages should change with me.”
“What will you be? And are you truly sure about this?”
“Yes I’m sure, and we can decide that after I’m let out of the pokéball around your neck.” Izuku looked down into his shirt, staring at the pokéballs there. A luxury ball, a limited edition All-Might pokéball, and a personally decorated Eraserhead one. That particular hero was one of Izuku’s inspirations because of how he fought. He reached down and grabbed the Eraserhead pokéball and offered it to Mew, and the pokémon tapped one of its small forepaws against the button to disappear to within.
Izuku watched as the pokéball rocked in his hand, and as soon as it laid still, he pushed the button to release Mew. The cat looked surprised for a moment and then turned to the boy, joy in its eyes. “Now I can pretend to be anything, what would you want me to be?”
“What would you want to be,” the boy shot back, “I think that’s more important.”
“Canid, no one would suspect me if I messed up.”
“Canid? So, Lucario, maybe?”
And indeed, before Midoriya’s eyes, the Mew became a Lucario.
A yellow Lucario.
Izuku was star-struck. He smiled dumbly and looked to the bandages wrapped around the pokémon’s torso, it had a small limp as it walked to the boy’s side. Izuku got up and moved to take the disguised pokémon inside with him, helping it walk when it needed to lean on him.
They made it to class just before the bell rang to see everyone in the class staring as he helped the shiny Lucario to the back of the classroom, giving it his chair to sit in and turning to lean against the back wall as the teacher entered.
The first thing the teacher locked eyes on was the Lucario in the back and Midoriya’s standing body. “You need to sit down, Midoriya.”
“Sorry sensei, Cache here needs my seat, he’s injured.” He nodded towards the Lucario and gestured to the bandages. The teacher stared for a moment, then nodded and began the lesson as the class took notes, it was bound to be a long day. Thankfully, Cache could read minds and project his thoughts.
“Cache?” The pokémon asked sceptically.
“Hidden,” was Izuku’s reply.
After all, classes were over, and Cache and Izuku had pretty much figured out the whole train for U.A. thing, they started back home. Thankfully avoiding Bakugou and going into town, Izuku was shopping when the Sludge villain blew in the storefront with the Explosion quirk. He had some minor glass cuts, as did Cache, but they looked outside to see it happening. Izuku wanted to help, but Cache was sceptical.
“Isn’t that the one that always bullies you? The one you told me about in class?”
“Yeah, but I can’t just leave him to die!”
“Alright then, but after this, I’m going to teach you to sense and utilize your aura to fight, you’ll need it, being quirkless, and being able to speak to us, it won’t look suspicious if you say your Lucario taught you.”
“Alright, but we have to do this now, he doesn’t have much time.” They were getting weird looks from the other shoppers who weren’t unconscious, they could only hear Izuku’s side. Then they ran forward as one. Izuku grabbed a bat sized stick of wood that was on fire and leapt, plunging it into the sludge villains eye as Cache ran to throw Katsuki out of the villain and onto the ground, growling and barking until the boy backed away from the scene.
The pokémon turned to see Izuku about to be hit by one of the sludge villain’s flailing arms and shot an aura sphere at it, knocking it away. At that moment, a blaziken surged forwards, followed quickly behind by his trainer and Izuku’s idol, All Might.
Now, before he had heard about Eraserhead, and his Gengar and Liepard, Izuku might have tripped over himself to talk to All Might, and ask him all kinds of questions. But now? Now, Izuku had more pressing concerns. The bandages on Cache’s side had begun to bleed through. The heroes came up and began scolding him for recklessness and putting himself in unnecessary danger. Cache growled at them and then to Izuku he said, “how dare they! They did nothing! They would have let the boy die!”
Izuku rushed forwards, putting a hand on Cache’s arm and telling him, “I know, but they’re not worth it. Frauds will be frauds. Go sit on the sidewalk, I need to look at that side again.” The Lucario just nodded and went to the closest part of the concrete that was devoid of fire. Izuku walked to his side and began adding bandages, not taking the old ones off for fear of making it worse.
All Might hadn’t stayed a moment later than he had to, but his blaziken, Delaware, remained to stare at the boy. “I know you’re not a Lucario,” he addressed Cache, “what is so special about the boy, what is his name? Why do you follow him so, great mother?”
“My name is Midoriya Izuku, Delaware. I think you’ll find that there’s more to me than my quirklessness.” The Blaziken looked shocked at that.
“Quirkless?”
“Yeah, I’m quirkless. Problem?”
“No, not at all. I’m assuming you want to be a hero?”
“Yes, he does.” Cache interrupted before they could begin to go back and forth and cause even more confusion for the crowd who was already trying to jostle past the hero barrier to get a closer look at Izuku. “I am going to teach him to manipulate his aura. He has the strongest one I’ve ever seen in a human. I’m going to look for more pokémon to join him, but he must first learn control.”
“Of course,” replied Delaware. “He wouldn’t make a very good hero if he couldn’t attack or defend, now would he?”
“I suppose not,” Izuku sighed as he finished Cache’s bandages. “But I’m not going to let quirklessness stop me. If controlling my aura to fight is what I must do to save, then I will do it.” He stared down Delaware determinedly, and the brazen Blaziken stared at him searching his soul until it dipped its head in acknowledgement to the boy’s will.
“If you ever need aid, and I am nearby. Do ‘The Call.’ ”
“‘The call.’” Izuku deadpanned. “Really.”
“Yes, really. ‘The Call.’”
“Alright then.” So they go back home.
But not before the heroes chew him out again and subsequently take a Lucario-punch to the gut before Izuku can stop it.
At least, that’s what he’ll say.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His mother had panicked for a time, then calmed, and eventually fell asleep on the couch after making dinner for the pokémon in the house. See, they had made a pokémon cafe of sorts, with the way Izuku collected pokémon.
They flocked to him in droves, even the rare ones, and filled their house so much that they had to make the cafe to feed all of them and themselves. They got help from the pokémon who literally went out on the streets and asked for donations with a little sign. It was super effective.
They had started up a cafe with minimal issue, with the amount of pokémon on the streets asking zealously for funding. They sold admission for thirty-minute increments and literally any kind of coffee, pastry, or light meal they could get the recipe for. The cafe was called Green Mountain poké-cafe, and Midoriya Inko ran the place but Midoriya Izuku was really the owner. After all, the pokémon collected the money when he asked, and brought it to him afterwards. They were actually quite popular.
It was a few days later, on Saturday that Izuku was working in the cafe unusually late. Three in the morning, late. The few pokémon still awake were Cache, who only ever slept when Izuku did, Fleur, a Liepard, a pair of Zorua called Mischief and Mayhem, a shiny Midnight Lycanroc named Lycaon, a Litten named Spark, and its Torracat mother christened Blaire, and a shiny Dartrix named Kyanite, who was abandoned by its trainer, called ‘obsolete’ and ‘weak to the point of worthlessness.’
It was at this time that a Gengar phased through the wall followed through the door by a dead-tired looking man in a loose black outfit and a scarf. Izuku, however, had been organizing the items under the counter and simply said, “hello, good er.. morning, I suppose. How can I help you and how long would you like to stay?” It wasn’t usual that someone come in at this time of night, so Izuku had been cleaning. He came up from under the counter and the moment his eyes landed on the man he froze, wide-eyed.
It took the man until the boy shakily whispered, “Eraserhead?” to realize that the kid knew him.
The man raised his eyebrows, “not many people know me, you must really know your stuff, kid.”
“I try,” was the boy’s reply. “So, see anything you fancy?”
“Yes, I suppose, but how much is it to stay in here for, say, an hour?”
“Heroes hang out free,” the boy said. “You all do enough for the city, especially you. I know you work at U.A. on top of patrols and fights, that can’t be easy. Sometimes, I feel like you guys, underground heroes especially, don’t get enough respect for what you do.” The man stared for a moment, barely concealed surprise in his eyes and a small smile on his lips. “Go ahead and stay as long as you like, and please pick something off the menu. Can’t really have time to eat much if you lose enough time teaching and patrolling that you can’t sleep. Maybe the company of other pokémon might help. You can let your team out, by the way, if you trust them not to start a fight.”
The man, stunned, shook himself and released the rest of his team. An Umbreon, a Midnight Lycanroc, normal colours, the Gengar, of course, was out already, a Serperior, a male Meowstic, and a Zoruark. They immediately went over to the other pokémon and began socializing while Izuku got the man his black coffee and the best of their croissants. Once the man had sat down in the lounge, he called out to the pokémon, “any of you want anything?”
The pokémon grumbled amongst themselves on how they’d have to show the man what they wanted, and the boy just replied, “no, you won’t have to show me, you can just tell me.” To which all the pokémon froze and started before rushing forward and telling the child what they wanted.
Eraserhead was surprised at the boy, and tired, but had stayed there until he had to leave for a faculty meeting at U.A. and so he went, considerably less tired, having fallen asleep even after drinking his coffee, surrounded by purring pokémon.
The man’s presence became routine in Izuku’s days, though he started coming in in the evenings, instead of at three in the morning. Eventually, they started conversing about a variety of things, the life of a U.A. teacher, Izuku’s high school plans(U.A.), some of the most disturbing and vile things Aizawa had seen on patrols, and the most adorable things the pokémon had done within the cafe.
When he had told the man (Shota Aizawa, call me Shouta, I suppose.) that he planned to apply to U.A. but wasn’t confident that he’d make it in, the man asked why he felt that way, which led to a long and enlightening conversation on Izuku’s quirklessness and his aura training with Cache.
Shouta was surprised, but in light of the boy’s training, believed he could do it. He told Izuku that he was looking forward to seeing how he and his pokémon did in the entrance exam.
Over the course of the ten months before the entrance exams, Izuku’s team had grown to four. They were: Cache the secret, Sentry the Naganadel(thanks to Cache, If only an unknown pokémon from beyond wasn’t a headache Izuku wishes never to relive), An Aegislash that Izuku had saved and named King, and a Braixen named Brindle, which he had hatched from the egg of two Delphoxes that resided within the cafe, Torch and Candle.
He had trained constantly whenever he wasn’t working in the cafe, learning to control his aura and use it to make weapons and view others’ auras. He had begun ignoring Bakugou completely on Cache’s suggestion. He had to get stronger if he wanted to succeed.
Then the time came for the exam. Armed with his knowledge, his tips from Aizawa, and the knowhow on heroes and pokémon, he stepped through the gates of U.A.