Okay, maybe faceless was a bit too much, surely not very nice, but some features were definitely missing.

Even sitting, the man in front of him was very tall, imposing. His aura was strong, dark. Izuku felt uncomfortable immediately and his nausea increased.

A huge scar covered his face. From up his nose to behind his head as far as Izuku could see. It was ragged and quite honestly, hideous. The face was eyeless, hairless, noseless almost. The man had no ears, all it still had from a previous human shape were the shadows of eye sockets and a crooked and cruel grin. He was connected to a bunch of devices and monitors by wires coming in and out of his skin.

Izuku wouldn't even dare imagine what could have caused all of this.

But he did. He wondered how could the man hear, how could he see, what caused all of this and were all of these machines keeping him alive? If so, how? He didn't even ask about the mist-man quirk, even if it seemed fascinating, or about how the man knew those things about All Might? How could Izuku know it was true?

All he said was "Did All Might do this to you?"

Because it all linked together. The terrible fight All Might must have gone through to end up with such an injury was a reflection of the fight this man must have endured as well.

Izuku knew that fighting, sometimes to death, was part of the hero's work, but he couldn't imagine leaving a man in this state. What could he even do? With all this stuff around him, keeping him alive. Sitting on a chair all day probably, blind and deaf.

"That would be him, yes. Five years ago we battled. Each of us ended up with quite the injury. He left me for dead, and I believe he still thinks of me as such."

The man's fingers were tapping a steady rhythm on his armrest.

"I would rather like to know what kind of impact our fight had on him. As you can see, I didn't heal very well. I'm still having to fight the effect of this fight. I would be very grateful if you could share what All Might told you."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Why? It wouldn't be fair now, would it? Me asking a bunch of questions but never giving anything back. That doesn't seem like a nice deal. But you don't have to answer my question about All Might if you're so strongly against it. I can find another question to ask if you'd prefer."

This seemed like a trap. But it strangely made sense, this exchange of information. Surely not anything someone would expect from a villain who decided to kidnap them but the idea was there. That someone, a villain nonetheless, would be willing to exchange, was so foreign to Izuku. Because no one ever wanted to exchange with him, he would consider himself lucky if people would simply talk to him. He could nerd out on the internet with people who had the same interests as him (and thankfully who didn't know of his quirk situation or lack of therefore). But all he had were bullies if he was honest with himself. And now this terrifying man wanted to be all nice to him and even if it was solely to learn the information Izuku had, it had no right to feel this nice. What kind of world did Izuku live in to end up feeling some sort of happiness after living what might have been the worst day of his life, just because a villain was trying to have a civilized chat with him?

"Tell me, Izuku Midoriya, how does it feel to live quirkless?"

Oh.

There was the catch.

"Let me guess. You were born in a society where quirks are what define you. And you don't have one. Quirkless are nothing anymore. You're nothing. People disregard you, pity you, ignore you. Bully you, probably. They don't listen to you, they don't like you, they avoid you at all cost because you're less evolved , you're just less than them. They don't see you. At school you're being laughed at, publicly shamed for something you have no control over. Isn't it hard? To live in a world where people just refuse to include you? Teachers must not even be helping because whatever will happen to you it will be far less important than what can happen to those with powers, perhaps even students with powerful quirks. One could even be a hero and why would they risk the kid's career for someone like you?"

It hurt. A lot. No one ever said those things out loud. Izuku barely dared think them in his mind, hidden in the darkness of the night or sobbing while wrapping up any wound. He chose to believe that people never quite knew the amount of things he lived, that they simply didn't know. His mother sometimes glanced pitifully at him while Kacchan threw kicks. To each their own. But apparently they knew. They could because this man who knew nothing of him did. He just made an exact portrait of his poor little life, all by saying common sense.

All he wanted was to help others.

And he said so. It all broke down into a mess of tears, spit and snot.

He wanted to be a hero, to help people, to bring hope and smile if he could. Never mind he was quirkless, never mind he wasn't pretty and nice to look at, that couldn't stop him from helping others. He wanted to bring others what he lacked, and that was it. Whatever pain, whatever grief, whatever strain he'd have to go through, he would. That was what a hero was, for wasn't it? To help people, to take their suffering, to make sure they were safe. He wanted to go to UA, to learn how to fight, how to rescue. He wanted people to stop reminding him everyday he was lacking something. He wanted to be recognized as an individual with thoughts, dreams, hopes and pains. He wanted this stupid discrimination to just vanish. And he'd hoped that some people were like him. He hoped All Might was. He was just so tired of feeling worthless and useless, stupid and so forgettable. He wanted so bad to imagine his idol as a fighter for justice against discrimination, who wanted to help bring hope to those without quirk, with a weak one, or one that could do more harm than good if not used correctly. He wanted to see this more but he never actually did and knowing that All Might was quirkless originally hurt so bad. Because, maybe he wasn't born at a time when quirkless were so rare, but still, he knew what it was like to not have this thing that made people oh so unique and special. He knew what it felt like to be powerless. And instead of helping him, of giving him hope like he was supposed to, he just told him 'no' . He threw all of his trauma or whatever that was called to a 14 year-old teen who had just been attacked and almost choked to death, shattered his dream and that brought back to earth this seemingly unshakable Symbol of Peace, powerful and strong, all in less than fifteen minutes. Waw. And who would have thought that for five years he had been fighting with a time limit. Three hours for a hero made patrols quite short and, maybe his strength was also reduced because of it? He should probably go back and watch some old videos compared to new ones to see how long it took for the hero to take down villains now. Maybe, if his strength was reduced it wasn't only due to the time limit but his quirk, which wasn't his originally. If it was true then perhaps his body wasn't made for it, and if his body was weakened his quirk would be so as well and...

Izuku shut up. He closed his mouth so fast he bit his tongue and felt the coppery taste of blood. Well it was better than the taste of used water but...

He now wanted to throw up more than he did before. More than he did all day and God knew what he'd been through.

He just told the man everything he wanted to know. He told him every single piece of information who could put the number one hero in danger.

Shakily, he looked up. He stared at the scar, wanting so badly to know what the man was thinking. To search for a telling look, for a raised eyebrow or a satisfied smile. But he was met by the same expression which greeted him. This non-existent gaze and cold grin which barely shifted throughout the conversation.

"Ah, yes. Meeting your idols is always a disappointment. Understanding that the people we look up to the most don't wish for our happiness, chose to turn a blind eye on our situation. Must be painful. I'm sorry you had to go through all of this. But you see... I wouldn't say you're worthless. After all, you gave me quite the information here, I'm very grateful." He took something from behind his chair with a swift movement. It was his notebook, crumbled and burned but still standing with his big '13' written in front. "And this. This is far from worthless if you ask me. I'd like you to think about some things. You say you're invisible, rejected. And I wouldn't put it past society to actually make you feel like that. But you're not. This is a golden mine, a diamond in the rough. People just won't recognize your talent because of who you are. Or what you're not. At least not the people you expect to recognize it. I know people who could be interested in work such as this." He shook the notebook, Izuku scrawny writing obvious on the pages, ink smeared on the water-soaked paper. "I will be letting you return home, unharmed and free just as promised. But I'd like you to think about it. What does it means, to help people? And who needs help? I'll show you that you're far from useless. But unless you actively seek me out, you shall live your life as you saw it fit. Kurogiri."

Before Izuku could say anything, the world vanished in a sea of purple and he fell right on the concrete. The dark room, the faceless man, the chair and tape, there was nothing of it anymore. Izuku was simply lying on the pavement, his backpack just out of arm reach.

He had nothing to do but put himself back up and head home.