Archive of Our Own ^beta

Izuku shivers when the night wind ruffles his clothes, a last sign of comfort. His signature yellow backpack and red sneakers stand on the other side of the rails, a letter tucked inside. Even as he stands one foot away from his death, he can’t find himself to be scared. In fact, it’s the first time that he’s felt at peace. How ironic.

His shoulder throbs in pain from the burn that Kacchan gave him earlier that day. Take a swan dive off a roof in hope of a quirk in another life.

His lungs burn from the near suffocation he endured from the slime villain. A perfect bodysuit!

His heart squeezes in pain from his dreams crumbling around him. I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous to be a hero without a quirk.

His scraped knees and hands sting from his attempt to help Kacchan. What do you think you were doing! You’re more of a liability without a quirk!

Izuku looks up at the sky, watching the few bright stars that light pollution couldn’t hide. He etches the scene into his mind, as he closes his eyes devoid of life. He takes a deep breath of the cold night air, his thoughts clear for the first time his life. He slowly uncurls his fingers, ready for the peace on the other side.

“You’ll regret it.”

He jolts, grabbing tightly onto the rails again. His once calm heart beats erratically, his eyes blown wide open. He sharply looks to the right where he heard the voice.

A girl who looks to be in her teens sits on the rails, watching the lights of the city. Her long black hair and white dress sways gently with the wind.

“You’ll regret it,” the girl repeats, her soft wispy voice carried by the wind.

He hesitates before asking. “Regret what?”

“Your decision.”

It’s almost unheard of for anger to cloud Izuku’s mind, as he has seen the disastrous nature of said emotion. However, whether it’s because he’s one step away from his death or because of another random stranger once again making a judgement for his actions, he finds himself angry for the first time in forever.

“How do you know I’ll regret this?” he snaps. “You don’t know who I am, or what I had to live through. Do you know the pain that I had to endure, or the tears that I’ve shed. Who are you to say that I’ll regret this?”

The girl stays quiet for some time as she continues to look at the city lights. “You’re right. I don’t know who you are, or what you’ve been through. I don’t know your pain or why you’ve shed your tears. However…”

She turns her head to look at him, and Izuku sees the same empty eyes that he sees every morning in the mirror. “I know you’ll regret it, because I made the same decision.”

Izuku’s eyes widen at the declaration, really looking at the teen in front of him. Despite the darkness of the night, the girl appears transparent and pale. The swaying of her hair and dress don’t match the pace of the wind. And her sudden appearance can’t be described unless she’s a ghost.

Despite the girl’s declaration and ghostly appearance, Izuku can’t find himself to believe it. After all, why would someone stop the death of a useless, quirkless Deku?

“Even if you made the same decision, how do you know that I’ll regret it? You said it yourself, you don’t know my life.”

The girl goes back to looking at the city. “Because everyone else did.”

His mouth feels dry when he speaks again. “Everyone else?”

The girl nods. “Death may seem peaceful and an alternative to the hell that is life, but it’s not. It’s a punishment. All other ghosts have a chance to move on, a chance to leave their life behind. But for victims of suicide, there is no moving on. After all, why should another chance at life be given to those who gave it up?”

Izuku grips on the rails, his eyes glued to the metal between his hands. “Then what am I supposed to do? Do I have to continue being a punching bag for Kacchan and everyone else in my school? Am I supposed to follow All Might’s advice and stop chasing an impossible dream? Do I have to continue living a life of physical, mental, and emotional pain? If the afterlife is no better than the living, what am I supposed to do?”

Silence fills the space, and Izuku looks at the ghost again. This time, the girl is looking at the sky.

“You live,” she whispers. “After watching people rise and fall for centuries, the only answer I can give is to live. Live believing that tomorrow will be a better day. Live hoping that you will find the light. Live so that you can experience the happiness that only living can bring. Because after watching this world for so long, I’ve come to regret losing the feeling of living.”

Izuku stares at the girl swaying to her own rhythm, and tries to understand her regrets. But all he can see are burns and bruises decorating his body, starburst scars appearing more and more. Small red slits appearing on top of each other on his wrist. Everyone else being happy while he alone drowns in sorrow and self-hate.

“I can’t see it,” Izuku whispers, hating the vulnerability that enters his voice. “I can’t see how you can regret living if it only brings you pain.”

The girl smiles sadly. “I know. But what about the small moments of joy? Like eating your favorite meal.”

He sees his mom placing a bowl of Katsudon in front of him, her eyes shining in joy when she sees him enjoying it so happily.

His hands on the rail grip tighter. “I’m bullied everyday. People write cruel words on my desk, send me fake letters of love and friendship, and give me spider lilies at least once a month.”

“You tell someone.”

“But then I’m admitting that I’m weak.”

“The true path to strength starts by admitting your weaknesses.”

“I have no friends. Everyone left me after I turned 4, even Kacchan.”

“There are so many people in this world. You will one day find the right people who will love you.”

“I believe in an impossible dream.”

“It’s only impossible if you believe it to be.”

“No one thinks it’s possible.”

“Then prove them wrong.”

“But I’m useless.”

“No one is useless. You just need to find where your worth is.”

“What if I’m quirkless? Then aren’t I truly useless then?”

“So what if you don’t have a quirk. You’re still human.”

“But not having a quirk makes me useless.”

“You have a brain, hands, and feet. Do you think your ancestors were useless because they had no quirk?”

“No!”

“Then having a quirk doesn’t make you useless.”

Izuku grits his teeth in frustration. “You don’t get it! Everyone else has such useful and powerful quirks, but I have none! Times are different now. In a world where everyone has superpowers, not having one means you’re useless! The quirkless are weak and powerless. We aren’t even looked at as if we’re human. We’re just insignificant bugs that have no meaning in this world. I’m just a weak, useless, quirkless, Deku!”

He pants after the sudden outburst, waiting for the final shoe to drop. But no matter how long he waits, it doesn’t come. He looks at the girl next to him, expecting disgust to be on her face. Instead, she stares at him with a sad, sad smile.

“But you’re still human.”

Izuku opens his mouth to retaliate, but the girl beats him to it. “So what if you don’t have a quirk? Quirks don’t make you omnipotent. There are so many instances where a quirk cannot be applied. A nurse with a quirk to heal broken bones cannot use their quirk to heal someone with an infection. A firefighter with a quirk that can shoot a jet of water cannot use their quirk to prevent a building from collapsing. A hero with a super strength quirk cannot use their quirk to stop someone from bleeding to death. Quirks are not omnipotent. They are merely tools.”

His eyes are wide from the sudden revelation. He had revered quirks for so long that he forgot that they have weaknesses. That there are some quirks that ostracize others. That there are quirks that destroy their users.

He can already feel the sparks forming in his heart, but in one last attempt, he whispers, “But I’m still a Deku. Everyone thinks so.”

“Then prove them wrong.”

His fire of determination that had been snuffed out by the events earlier that day had sparked to life again. A small amount of life once again enters his eyes, and tears begin to form. He trembles as the height makes him nauseous, and the once welcoming chilly air becomes bitterly freezing.

He looks at the girl once again, a smile on his face. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

The girl returns the smile. “And thank you for listening.”

Izuku climbs over the rails to the safety of the roof. Before he picks up his belongings, he turns around to face the ghost.

“I had one last question.”

The girl nods her head, signaling him to keep going.

He takes a deep breath, quelling the anxiety and trauma. “Do you think that a quirkless person can be a hero?”

He waits with bated breath and hears the soft whispers of, “I don’t see why not.”

Her answer was not a straightforward yes or no. It didn’t even answer the question of whether she believed in him or not. But her answer wasn’t a complete denial of his dreams or his worth, and that was enough for Izuku. He knew that her answer gave him a choice. That it was up to him to make his dreams a reality.

He grips the front of his shirt as tears of relief run down his face. He chokes on his tears, overwhelmed by emotions. As he sits there wiping the tears and snot from his face, a figure lands on the roof.

He looks up, and his eyes widen when he takes note of his signature scarf and yellow goggles. “Y-y-you’re Eraserhead!”

Eraserhead nods in acknowledgement. “What are doing up here late at night, kid?”

His cheeks flame in shame and embarrassment. “Um, I, uh…”

As he tries to come up with a response, he sees Eraserhead’s eyes look at his backpack and shoes next to him, the letter tucked between them, and he can see the moment he realizes Izuku’s intention on the roof. Izuku looks away in shame.

Izuku flinches when Eraserhead sighs, and he feels tears coming back when he thinks about disappointing another one of his favorite heroes. He really can’t do anything, can he?

Eraserhead approaches Izuku, and rather than berate him like he expected, the hero sits down next to him. He stares at the hero in surprise.

“By the fact that you’re sitting here crying, you’re not going to go through with it, right?”

Izuku nods his head quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

“I take it you got a visit from Lady Survivor?”

“Lady Survivor?”

Eraserhead nods. “A ghost who comes at the last moment of a suicide. She convinces people to change their mind and get some help. She’s a pretty big legend, so you can probably find her on the internet.”

“But I’ve never heard of her before.”

Eraserhead shrugs. “She’s mainly known in a couple circle of groups.”

“Is- Is that how you know her?”

He shakes his head. “No, she visited me before.”

Izuku’s eyes widen. “You? B-But you’re Eraserhead! You’re strong, and your quirk is really cool, and I can’t see how you’d be in that situation.”

Eraserhead shrugs. “Just because I’m a hero doesn’t mean that I’m human. Besides, I wasn’t always at this point. I had to work hard to get here.”

Izuku nods, still reeling from that information. Eraserhead was just like him, and had even almost made the same decision that he did. And if Eraserhead could survive, does that mean that he can, too?

Eraserhead stands and stretches his arms. “Come on, kid. Ready to go home?”

Izuku nods and stands up, putting his shoes on and grabbing his backpack. As he follows the hero to the door, a question comes up in his mind again. He fiddles with the strap of his backpack, and before he can back out, he asks his question.

“Um, Mr. Eraserhead, sir?” The hero hums.

Izuku takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. “Do you think a quirkless person can be a hero?”

He has a death grip on the straps of his backpack, anxiety pooling at his guts. “If you have the determination and training, possibly.”

Izuku snaps his eyes open, desperately clinging onto his hope. “Really? Do you really think so?”

Eraserhead shrugs. “I mostly fight quirkless, so I do think that it’s possible. But you do realize that it’ll be a hard road, right?”

Izuku nods. “I know, sir.”

Eraserhead huffs. “Just drop the -sir. Come on, kid. Let’s get you home.”

Izuku follows Eraserhead, his dreams once again burning bright. He looks back to where the girl used to sit, only seeing the city lights that she was once watching. Despite the emptiness, he smiles and whispers,

“Thank you.”

Unbeknownst to the boy, the ghost smiles back. “No, thank you.”