The first thing he thought was that the room was dark. And cold. And the bed really uncomfortable. No, it wasn't even a bed, Izuku fell asleep on his chair. Again. He probably had ink somewhere on his face and his mom would fuss about it before letting him leave the house for school.

But as he opened his eyes properly, with all intent of standing up and going to the bathroom to wash the terrible taste in his mouth, Izuku quickly realized that this was not his room. And that he couldn't stand up.

His feet were bound and so were his hands to the chair, plain wood, boring really, on which he was sat.

This was not funny.

What kind of new torture his classmates had found now? Telling him he should die was not enough. No ! They had to fucking tie him to a chair and leave him in some room god knows where. Freaking hilarious.

But it seemed to be more than that, memories started to come back slowly.

The fish pond. The villain attack. All Might.

Izuku's heart broke a little bit more and he felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes. He really wanted this hollowness to just leave. He was so tired.

He wanted to scream, to let it all out. He thought of every insult, every kick and punch, of the constant reminder that yes, he was less than them, that he wasn't as evolved, that he couldn't do things that they could, that he didn't have his own specialty. That he was weak.

And All Might thought so too.

Izuku wasn't stupid. Whatever his classmates said, whatever the teachers said, he knew he wasn't. He understood classes easily, he knew he could have good grades but god help the quirkless child was better than his peers in any subject. He felt proud whenever he finished an entry in his notebook, whenever he would take apart a new quirk, dissect it to his strengths and weaknesses. He could see the impressed gaze in some of the people's eyes he met who didn't know he was quirkless. Izuku wasn't stupid.

And yet. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted so badly to prove them all wrong, to bring the hope he desperately lacked throughout his childhood to some who needed it as well, to change, if just a little, this society who brought him down to his knees.

And wasn't that stupid.

A quirkless hero.

It would have been as revolting as awe inspiring.

In his dreams, sometimes, Izuku would imagine the public's answer. He didn't care much for the popularity of heroes, the desire to shine, to earn tons. But he liked to imagine it, sometime in the deep covers of the night when burns and bruises hurt his body and he couldn't fall asleep. The crowd, cheering or booing, maybe a bit of both, in broad daylight. Izuku would be finishing a fight against some villain, helping a child stand up, bringing a smile to his face. And he would have done that. He would turn to the public, to the sea of eyes, full of fear, judgment, questions, awe. All of their faces, shining under the sun, with smiles, scowls, inspired looks and, perhaps, maybe, hope.

Shame it wasn't possible.

No. Because Izuku was here, tied up to a stupid chair in a stupid room with nothing but his stupid thoughts.

He knew the odds. He read the articles. The 20% of quirkless individuals were nothing but dimming, a bit more everyday. It was not because of death. Or actually yes, but not because of old people, born ages ago in the times when quirks were rare, a novelty. Those were living still, alive and as well as any living thing can be while aging, sitting peacefully on their chairs, with their family around. Or even were sitting as chairmen, as high ups in a society that didn't like them much but they'd been here for such a time that it was okay, they built what the world was now, didn't they? No. The ones who died were the youth. Their society was killing their weaklings, the ones who couldn't evolve fast enough. Of course it was nothing so blatant. But how easy was it to see another of those young kids, jumping from a bridge, a roof, taking one of too many pills, spilling their blood on the cold tiles. Poor family, rest in peace and next . If all of them died, none could reproduce. Easy. Total extermination of a time when humans were nothing more than that, humans, even if they aspired to be more. End of a time when you had to prove to others what was your worth. Quirkless had no place anymore and Izuku learned it quickly. He was the everyday proof that they were not wanted here anymore. That they had done their time already. That they were too late.

Other days, Izuku would imagine what life was like pre-quirk.

Obviously he read the books. He knew of societies where there was war, envy, destruction and pain. But that didn't change much. it just took a new turn. He also knew of a society where what you did with yourself defined what you would be. That whoever you were, if you were willing to try, to work, you had a chance. He thought of walking in class, quirks did not exist and heroes didn't either. He'd have a dream that he was working very hard for, just as hard as he did for his hero's wish. He'd have notebooks filled with something else. He'd sit, take out his stuff, a pencil, a blank page to take some notes. A friend would come and say hello, ask what they'd do later, what he'd bring for lunch.

It wasn't possible. Not anymore.

But he still had hoped.

Foolish.

Dreaming was stupid and it had done nothing but set unachievable expectation for the future.

A sound resonated behind him.

A door.

For an instant, Izuku forgot where he was. His mind was so filled with the grief of his dream that he had forgotten the fact that he had literally no idea where he was, who he was with.

The door closed, footsteps approached.

His breathing quickened, his heart beat crazily. Could he handle any kind of pain, words or otherwise, after what just happened? He could usually wait through the merciless words of Kacchan and the others but today was just too much. He didn't want to be laughed at, he didn't want to be reminded of his stupidity, of the impossibility of his dreams, of All Might's words.

A cloud of purple mist went around his chair and stood in front of him. It was wearing a suit, some sort of metal armor around the place where a neck would be and two bright yellow blotch shone for eyes. The mist was dancing around the whole thing, moving slowly, following some rhythm such as breathing. It was somehow very soothing. Almost hypnotizing.

Somewhere in the background of his mind, a bunch of question marks appeared. Mutant type? Simple coverage? Was it a specificity of the quirk or just some hereditary feature from the parents that didn't serve much purpose? Who were they?

But what he focused on was the screen the person was holding, clasped between gloved hands.

A steady breathing came from it, louder than anything else in the room. The words 'No Image' stood clear on the dark background.

A voice steadily rose, "Hello. We have a few questions and it would be best for everyone if you answered them quickly." It was deep and hoarse. It sounded kind of muffled by something else and machines of some kind could be heard behind it. The holder of the tablet didn't flinch or move, still as a statue, he held onto the device while staring at the wall behind Izuku.

"We know of your little meeting with All Might. One could wonder what such a hero would do with a young civilian such as you. We'd like to know the details of the conversation you had with the famously known Symbol of Peace."

Izuku stammered some meaningless sounds, his mind working a mile per second.

This seemed far more serious than anything Kacchan could ever come up with. If his childhood friend even learned he met All Might, he wouldn't hesitate a second before destroying anything good that could have come out of the encounter. Sadly the hero had already taken care of that part. Except this was not Kacchan trying to bury Izuku's dream in a well of misery.

How did those people even know he met All Might?

Izuku heard himself say some stupid things such as 'All Might? What's an All Might?' before the voice rang again.

"This is not the moment to make jokes. We only want to know a few things. Just explain what the hero wanted to do with you and you shall go back to whatever life you were living, to your friends and family or whatever people want these days. Unharmed and free, back to where you're from. Just answer us and you can forget this whole ordeal as if it was nothing more than a bad dream."

The thing was, his entire life was the bad dream.

For less than a second, Izuku wanted to laugh and say just that. Of course he did not.

Because it would have been foolish and probably more than suicidal.

But the thing was, he couldn't say what they wanted him to. Whatever All Might did to him, be a little too frank and shatter his dream, he was still All Might. This was important information. Izuku wasn't even supposed to know!

"i- He didn't tell me a-anything," Izuku wished his hands were free so he could rub his tired eyes. "He- he saved me and signed my notebook and that was it. Yes. Hello, Goodbye, don't die, thanks." The words coming out of his mouth probably didn't make much sense and sounded weird but what else could he do.

Probably not lie to his kidnappers. That sounded like a bad thing to do if he wanted to live.

"Ah yes, the notebook. Hero Analysis for the Future. Very nice. Very wet also. Whatever could have happened to it? You think your hero is going to save you? All he gave you was an autograph, nothing more. He's not here. And he's not going to come."

"I- I know."

"Then why aren't you talking? What did he tell you? What did he do to deserve such loyalty? You don't seem to be in an excellent situation do you? Is your life worth so little?" The silence floated in the room.

Izuku wanted to scream. He was so tired. He wanted to tell the man no. Whoever that was, whatever they were planning to do, he didn't think his life was worthless. But sometimes that little voice, more often than not sounding like Kacchan, would whisper in his mind that he kind of was. Useless . A Deku. Wasting everyone's time, and the oxygen he breathes. It hurts to think about it. Even more so now. The only worth he could find in himself was the joy, the hope, the safety he wanted to bring others. And All Might had said no to that. But he wanted. He wanted so bad to be accepted and liked and understood and seen . Seen for more than the stupid feature he did not have, more than a dumb toe joint. For more than his difference.

Izuku's head hurt. His shoulder still ached from the burn Kacchan made on it earlier and his throat was sore from the villain attack, his eyes burned from the amount of tears who decided to just leave his body and he really wanted to sleep.

"What do you know of All Might?"

Weirdly the question seemed genuine. Like the man really wanted to know his thoughts.

"He's... the number one hero. He's known all across the world. He's called the Symbol of Peace, and Justice sometimes."

"Yes. That much is true. All Might has been a hero for decades now, fighting for peace and justice, to bring hope, always smiling and shining wherever he went. What I'm asking is: what do you know about All Might?"

And Izuku understood. The man just wanted his information. Not geek out about a hero when he was clearly not on the right side of the law. He wasn't quite sure why he ever thought otherwise.

"I can tell you what I know of All Might." The voice said after a while. "Some informations that even you, the public and his so-called fans, don't know." He kept a calm tone, matter of fact, showing all of his cards, up to the ace up his sleeve. "He's called Yagi Toshinori. His quirk is One for All. It is a quirk passed generation after generation. It went from heroes to heroes, from people to people to try and withhold it. From whom you may ask? From me. People did not want me to have this quirk. Instead they fought countless battles, put thousands of civilians in danger to try and put my reign of terror to an end. I don't really see any terror in the streets if you ask me. Yagi Toshinori was a man born quirkless, he worked very hard with the wish to be a hero. His predecessor, a lovely woman known as Nana Shimura, who hurt her whole family to run after this terrible hero dream, gave him her quirk."

Cold washed over Izuku.

All Might was quirkless? Like him?

And yet he still told him he couldn't be a hero. Even when they were the same. He could have looked him in the eyes and told him it was hard, painful. Izuku could understand and accept all of that. But he simply said that quirkless had no chance of being a hero and that his dream was basically worthless and stupid.

"Are you quirkless, little boy?" The voice asked and suddenly Izuku realized he was mumbling.

Shock was still making this whole situation seem unreal but he felt something shatter in him, more than this endless grief and the pain of rejection, it was some form of betrayal that hit him painfully in the chest.

"Kurogiri, bring him to me."

As the voice rang in the room, a buzzing sound still muffling Izuku's ears, the mist-man in front of him turned off his tablet.

Mist danced fiercely around him. It grew around Izuku until he was wrapped in it.

Then he closed his eyes in the midst of purple.

When he reopened them, he was sitting in front of a faceless man.