Chapter 436 - My OC Stash #36 - The First Pillar by Soleneus (1/2)

-Deku with powers of the Absorbing Man is some refreshing stuff, can't wait for more from this author~

Synopsis: Useless. That's what they call him. Izuku and his Useless Quirk. Anyone can throw pebbles, how is that Heroic? But all it takes to shake the world is the right pebble in the right place at the right time. Crossposted on AO3. Fem. Bakugou.

Rated: M

Words: 25K

Posted on: m.fanfiction.net/s/13747922/1/The-First-Pillar (Soleneus)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics/originals mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1

It began with a glowing child. It didn't get better from there.

With the sudden emergence of superpowers, life as we knew it was lost. The world changed, society upheaved, and chaos ruled. And as in all chaos, there rose those who would profit from it, carving chunks of land and people for their own. Like the warring kingdoms of old, those with power fought against those with power for money, for territory, for supplies or for the thrill. And as always, those weaker, those without true power, suffered for it.

But as it always is, as it always had been and will be, those with power of their own, determined to bring order back to the world, ascended to fight in the name of the innocent. With wills of steel and the hope of the down-trodden, they overthrew the warlords and brought civilization back. But not as it was before. It couldn't be.

It became a world of the different, the strange. But what once was inconceivable, inhuman, became accepted, normal. Expected, even. It became just another…Quirk of humanity's existence. And life went on.

Those with the greatest power rose above the rest, becoming beacons of hope and pillars of order, bringing with them an era of scientific advancement, a celebrity culture of Professional Heroes, peace, safety and stability.

As well as a hierarchy of power. Those with the strongest of abilities were lauded and praised. Those without are demeaned. Every child grows up wishing to join the ranks of heroes. Some, bolstered by the teachings of the previous generation, rocket to heights once thought impossible.

Many more fail.

But nothing lasts forever. Unheard and unseen, a storm gathers and thrashes, upheaval hidden beyond the horizon. Chaos is coming once again. As it always has. As it always will. That is the truth.

But equally true is this: the greatest changes, for good or for ill, begin with the smallest of actions. The hurricane is formed from the delicate flutter of the butterfly's wings. The avalanche descends from the echo of the bird's call. Society is burnt to the bones lit by the glow of a child emerging from the w_o_m_b.

And all it takes to shake the world…is the right pebble, in the right place, at the right time.

…

It started on a random playground in Japan, no different from any other except for who was there that day. One was Bakugou Katsuki, proudly displaying an open palm to show off her newly discovered Quirk: the ability to ignite her sweat. At the moment it was only a small flash and pop, but visions of earth-shattering Kabooms and mushroom clouds danced in her head.

”Wow!” The other kids cheered, none louder then her friend, Midoriya Izuku. ”That's so cool, Kacchan!”

Much like their mothers, the two of them were a study in contrasts. Bakugou had pale blonde hair that spiked; Midoriya had fluffy dark green. She had ruby red eyes that, even at four, held a sharp, taunting edge; his eyes were a soft green and couldn't be anymore wide and innocent if he tried. Her skin, like her mother's, was on the darker side and flawless; his skin was like his mother's, on the paler side and sprinkled with freckles. She knew what her Quirk was. He did not.

”You're damn right it's cool!” She crowed, holding her hand up as more little flashes popped on her palm. ”I'm gonna explode so many bad guys they'll make me Hero Number One!”

”Hey, if you think that's cool, look what I can do!” Another kid shouted, waving his arms for attention before taking a deep breath, his cheeks and throat bulging out like a frog. Then he spat a small vortex of wind directly at the group of kids.

Let it be known that kids aren't the smartest at the best of times; adding superpowers to the mix only made it worse, hence why Quirk regulations were strict, especially in public and especially for kids.

Katsuki, showing a startling amount of instinct, dove aside. The other kids, showing a startling amount of common sense, followed her.

Izuku stood directly in the path, eyes sparkling. ”Oh, that's cool-!” It hit him directly in the c_h_e_s_t. Luckily, it was rather weak and only sent him skidding back in the gravel of the playground.

There was a second of stunned silence, the kind that comes when a little kid smacks their head on a table or face-plants; a second where everyone holds their breath to see if the kid would start bawling or not. Slightly dazed, Izuku sat up, rubbing his c_h_e_s_t, large green eyes watering.

”You're right!” He told little Mr. Wind-spitter with a shaky smile. ”That is cool!”

Katsuki rushed over to his side, snarling at the other kid. ”What the hell, dumbass?! Who just shoots their quirk at people?!” She turned to Izuku, with worry written on her face. ”You okay Zuku? Are you gonna cry like a big baby?”

Izuku sniffled and said, ”No,” then wiped his cheek with his hand. And gasped in pain.

”I knew it!” Katsuki crowed, her face a contradiction to her words as she was already standing to go look for their parents, only for Izuku to grab her arm. ”What, you need to hold my hand?”

”Kacchan, look,” the boy murmured, holding up his hand. There was gravel stuck to his skin, but luckily no blood.

”Yeah, you got rocks on you,” Kacchan dismissed, even as her eyes were glued to the sight and her fingers wrapped around his protectively. ”So what?”

”Look,” he urged, then made a face. After a second, she was just opening her mouth when the gravel stuck to his skin lifted off and began to gently orbit his hand. ”…I have a Quirk.”

”…So what, you can move pebbles, big deal,” Katsuki whispered, sharp red eyes tracking the rocks as they glided above his flesh. She blinked and looked away, finding the huddle of parents in the distance and put her lungs to work. ”HEY! OLD PEOPLE!”

Coincidentally, the parents had just been talking about their kids' Quirks, so they rushed over at the shout. Upon seeing the activation of a new one, they gave the two their congratulations right before Izuku's mother, Midoriya Inko, bundled him into the car and drove them towards the office of in-depth Quirk investigation. And she only had to pull over twice to wipe her happy tears away.

At the office, Izuku was pushed through a large battery of tests; first to determine what type of Quirk, then once that was narrowed down, how strong it was, what it could affect and how long it could last. After a rather tiring three hours, Izuku sat in his mother's l_a_p, clutching her arm and wishing he'd been able to bring along his favorite All-Might action figure as the doctor slowly went through the pages of information previously gathered. He clicked a pen, circled something and adjusted his glasses before looking up at the pair.

”So. Midoriya Izuku,” he spoke carefully and concisely, like every word was being recorded for quality purposes. ”After several tests, we have determined that your Quirk is an Emitter type, which can only affect rocks no more than three inches wide or long, in a telekinetic field that emanates no more than two inches from the skin on your body. It has been designated as 'Rock Field.'” He stopped, flipped the pages closed and set the clipboard down on his desk. ”That's it.”

Inko blinked, holding her son. Hearing it described as such, it sounded like a more concentrated, focused version of her own Quirk, Attraction of Small Things, but one that only worked on pebbles and gravel. Part of her was relieved. As far as Quirks went, it wasn't impressive, and Izuku, like almost all kids his age, wanted to use their Quirks to become famous, powerful Pro Heroes. Which was, by the nature of the work and the world they lived in, extremely dangerous. On the other hand, she felt guilty about feeling happy that such a lacking Quirk would make it nearly impossible for her little boy to get into such a perilous line of work.

And a deeper, smaller part was very glad that she wouldn't be the one to break Izuku's fluffy little heart.

”Um, Doctor?” Izuku asked in his sweet, childish voice, ”Do you think…do you think that My Quirk…Can I be a Hero with it?”

The doctor sniffed, looked through the pages again, then blinked at the boy. ”As far as Hero Careers go, a Quirk like yours…would be almost entirely useless.” He stated with zero tact. Inko squeezed her boy as he gave a hurt gasp. ”It isn't all bad. Many people, like your mother, have Quirks lacking in power, but with some small niche uses. And, of course, it's better than being Quirkless.”

Izuku blinked his large, watery green eyes, and let out a tiny, ”…Oh.” And then he hugged his mothers arms.

”Thank you for your time, doctor,” Inko said tersely, guilt and relief warring in her c_h_e_s_t as she stood up and carried her son from the office. He remained quiet even as they left the building and she secured him in his carseat. It was only half an hour later that he spoke.

”H-he, he wasn't right, r-right, mom?” He asked shakily, and she could see him playing with the buckle of his carseat in the rear-view mirror, peering up at her through thick lashes, eyes rimmed with tears, shining with the pure hope that his mom would be able to make everything better with her words. ”I-I can s-still use my Q-Quirk to be a Hero…r-right?”

Inko looked at the road and swallowed hard, l_i_c_k_i_n_g her lips. ”Izuku…” She couldn't find the words. ”Like the doctor said…it's not all bad…right? There are other jobs…safer ones. Maybe…maybe you're meant for something more than Hero work, honey.” She chanced a look in the mirror and felt her heart seize. Izuku was staring at her in horrified silence, tears running from his eyes. He'd recognized what she was trying to do and he'd seen right through it. And it had shattered his little heart.

His voice, when he spoke, was infinitesimally small. ”…Okay, mom.”

She blinked hard and tried to focus on driving, her throat feeling tight. ”I-it'll be alright, okay Izuku? How…how about when we get home, I make us tonkatsu pork…your favorite. How does that sound, sweetie?”

He didn't look up from his lap. ”…Okay.”

It was only that she was driving did Inko restrain herself from closing her eyes and letting herself drown in her guilt and grief.

…

Eventually, Izuku's good nature won over his heartbreak, and he returned to his normal, cheerful self. Some might've said it was a hunger borne from envy that he developed a hobby, a talent devoted to watching the fights of Heroes, to examining and breaking down their Quirks in his mind and, once it was overwhelmed, many notebooks. Others would say it was his natural mental state, to see things and automatically take them apart and figure out how they worked, how they could be used differently and how they could combine with others.

And when the current crop of Heroes had filled his pages, he turned an eye to his classmates and his best friend, Katsuki. Their Quirks, how they could develop over time and generally just how cool he found her led to Katsuki's potential covering many pages. He noticed with some envy that with age, her explosions became more powerful and with training, more focused. And there was only more room for her to grow.

For him, though, it was hopeless. He spent hours a day holding rocks in his field, having them orbit his body in increasing numbers and speed. Eventually, he managed to move them around his body faster.

He'd tried to think of a way to use his Quirk as a Hero, perhaps covering himself in pebbles, spinning them at high speeds and then throwing them? The problem with that, though, became obvious the first time he tried such a thing on a crude target painted on a tree. At point-blank, the rocks could actually do some damage. Outside of his field, however, the rocks lost velocity quickly and became just a tossed handful of gravel. And no matter how hard he tried, his field simply wouldn't extend, not even a millimeter.

That was a blow to his battered hope of heroism.

The next, most devastating blow, came when he was eight. During recess, he, Katsuki and some of their friends were exploring in the nearby copse of trees. The others had pulled ahead, crossing a fallen tree over a small stream, leaving the two to mosey at their own pace.

The explosive blonde hopped onto the log without a care, practically stomping her way across it. Izuku was more tentative, carefully measuring his steps. She, eventually, slipped on a wet patch and tumbled into the stream with a cry, landing hard on her back. Blinking in the light of the sun streaming through the leaves, Izuku stood above her, offering his hand with a smile. ”You okay, Kacchan?”

”'M fine,” she grumbled, taking his hand and pulling herself up. ”I don't need your help, Zuku.” Yeah, that hadn't changed in four years.

”Remember what All Might says!” Izuku chirped with a smile, holding a finger up like an instructor, ”Even Heroes need a helping hand once in a while! And when ever Queen Explosion Murder needs a hand, her best friend and partner Shrapnel will be there!” He mimed an explosion with his hands and gave her a bright smile.

It was so adorable, Katsuki felt her lips twitching upwards into a smile, red eyes subtly sparkling with humor…and then it left, and her lips flattened. ”All Might never needs a hand…” She muttered, still looking at him but speaking to herself.

”Well of course not!” The green-haired boy smiled, posing like the Number One Pro Hero. ”He's All Might! The greatest Hero!”

Her brows furrowed in thought. ”…I'm gonna be the greatest…” Her mind raced, images flashing through her head.

Izuku blinked. ”U-uh, yeah?” He couldn't shake the feeling of something bad coming his way.

Her eyes turned back to him and narrowed into a glare. ”All Might doesn't need help. I don't need help.”

He gulped under the intensity of her gaze. ”W-well, I mean, Sir Nighteye helped him…as a sidekick, and a…a partner?” Her visage remained unchanging. ”K-Kacchan?”

That seemed to be the final straw, and she snapped. ”Don't call me that!”

Izuku stepped back, hurt filling his features. ”K-Kacchan, what-”

”I said,” she stepped into his space and shoved him back, ”Don't call me that, dammit!”

”Kac-uh, Katsuki…what's wrong?!” He panicked, eyes darting around her face, his hands worrying at each other. ”Did-did I do something-?”

”You're useless, Izuku.”

Those three words, stated so simply, felt like she unloaded her most powerful blast directly into his heart. ”I…what?” He knew what the other kids said, what some of the teachers whispered behind their hands. The boy with the useless Quirk clinging to the coattails of a girl destined for greatness. A leech. A parasite. Useless. He saw, sometimes, when he used his Quirk, that she would give the pebbles he moved with his mind angry glares like they'd personally offended her. But she'd never said anything. She couldn't possibly think that for real…right? ”Katsuki…that…that's not true…”

”You're useless, Izuku,” she repeated like it was a stunning revelation. ”You will never be a Hero. You'll just d-get in the way. Like a little, useless pebble, getting in the way, tripping up the important people and making a mess. You. Are. Useless.”

He gasped for breath, trying in vain to blink the tears out of his eyes. ”I…Kacchan, that hurts…”

”Shut up,” Katsuki said simply, stepping into his space, looming over him even though they were the same height, her dark, ruby red eyes dominating his vision. ”You're delusional to think you could ever be anything more than useless…Koishi. Deku Koishi. A useless, worthless little rock only fit for stepping over. Being a Hero…is a road filled with danger. All you are, Deku, is a childish distraction on a path where distractions Kill!” Her eyes blazed with anger. ”You're nothing but a pebble, the smallest of stepping stones on my road to being a Hero! The Greatest Hero! Of ALL TIME! You. Are. USELESS!” With the last three words, she shoved him back another step until his back was against a tree. ”So stay out of my goddamn way, Deku. Or I'll kick you aside. You worthless little extra.”

Even though his eyes were wide and tears poured down his cheeks, Izuku summoned some hidden well of strength and pushed her back. ”That's not t-true, Kacchan! I'm not-”

She shoved him hard enough that his spine bounced off the bark, dropping to a knee to rip a handful of earth from the ground and slap it into his hand. ”Prove it,” she growled, one hand gripping the front of his shirt. ”Use the pebbles, Koishi. Make them do something other than float, or spin or whatever. Hurt me, Deku. Prove me wrong.”

He blinked at her, gaping at the handful of dirt and rocks in his hand. ”K-Kacchan, I-” He inhaled sharply as she shook him roughly. Breath coming in sobbing gasps, he turned his attention to the rock and felt his power latch on, the extraneous dirt falling away as the pebbles began to float above his skin.

”Come on, Zuku,” Katsuki whispered, and the pebbles began to spin. ”COME ON, IZUKU! DO! SOMETHING!” She roared in his face, the rocks escaping through nerveless fingers. He looked down at the hand grasping his collar, up at her face, then down at the ground.

His face crumpled and he began to sob.

She let him go, and he fell to his hands and knees in the dirt. ”…That's what I f_u_c_kin' thought,” she muttered, a pained expression and a flash of regret shining in her eyes. But her thoughts were dominated by a vision of the future. Izuku, jumping into a battle to save her. Taking on someone more powerful, and dying horribly, his c_h_e_s_t ripped open. His green eyes glazed, soft face frozen in a terrified rictus. Of a funeral. Inko crying over a casket as it was lowered into the ground. ”You stay away from me, Deku. I don't want your worthlessness stopping me from my destiny. Deku Koishi. Useless little pebble.”

And then she turned and walked away, hands in her pockets.

Izuku bowed his head to the ground and cried freely, heart shattered into a million little pieces. Underneath his hands and knees, unseen, the rocks within his field dissolved into grains of sand.

…

After their…confrontation, the rest of the school day saw a depressed Izuku say nothing, and barely acknowledge anyone or anything, except for the ending bell. The teachers picked up on it, but they didn't care. A few hours free from his constant muttering under his breath was welcome. His mother also immediately noticed his mood but, despite her gentle prying, he refused to answer. It was only over dinner, chicken soba with vegetables, that she got a word out of him.

”Mom…” His voice low, hoarse and sad, and his green eyes reflected those emotions as he peered at her from under his lashes. ”Am I useless?”

”What?!” She jumped in her seat, surprised by the shrillness of her voice. ”Oh Izuku, honey, no, you're not useless, not at all! You're a smart young boy, friendly, too! And you're absolutely adorable, maybe a little shy, but you've got little Katsuki as friend and-”

”Mom,” he interrupted her with a surprisingly firm tone, making her blink. He'd never spoken to her like that-she didn't know he could talk like that at all! Inko met her son's eyes, green like hers but darker in color. ”Do you think I can be a Hero?”

”I-Izuku…” She felt her throat grow tight and tears prick at the corners of her eyes. ”Y-you…there are other c-careers, and-”

Izuku set his chopsticks on the table and gripped the wooden surface with white knuckles, gritting his teeth. ”Mom.” He nearly growled. ”Can I. Be. A Hero.”

Inko stared at him, her lower lip trembling. ”…No, Izuku.” She finally answered, a tear tracing down her cheek. ”My sweet boy…Heroes have to be strong, otherwise…they die. And you…you aren't strong enough, Izuku. It's not your fault, it's j-just how it things happen, sometimes…”

Her son stared back at her, and for the first time, she couldn't read what he was feeling from his eyes alone. Then his gaze fell and he slumped, the last ember of hope drowned by his last source of comfort. ”…Thank you for the meal,” he whispered, pushing back from the table and leaving the room.

”I-Izuku,” Inko mumbled, the pure dejection writ large on his frame striking her heart far worse than any shouting or tears could have done. Her chopsticks slipped out of her hands and she buried her face in her sleeves to muffle the wails that escaped her mouth.

Distantly, she heard a door close.

Half an hour later, she'd finally been drained of grief, for now, and went to offer what comfort she could to her boy. Knocking on his door, she didn't expect him to answer, and therefore wasn't surprised when she received silence.

”Izuku, honey…I'm sorry. I-I want you to know that, okay? A mother…a mother should be the last one to stomp on their children's dreams, but…no, no 'buts,' I'm your mother and I should support your dream, because it shows just how big your heart is, how brave and full of love you are…b-but…” Her lips trembled and her eyes watered. ”Heroes get hurt, and Izuku…just the thought of you getting hurt…it-it breaks my heart and I…I'm sorry that I hurt you.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes roughly. ”Listen, Izuku, maybe I let being your mom get in the way…maybe you can still be a Hero? There are more ways than j-just…p-punching people…okay? We can…we can talk about it tomorrow, when you're feeling better…”

There was still no answer, and Inko bit her lip in worry. The thought of her son hating her or worse, loathing her dispassionately…it may have been a stretch, but it still terrified her.

”Izuku…can I come in? I just w-want a hug, and then I'll leave you alone, okay?...Izuku?” She knocked, but silence was the only answer, not even the rustle of a blanket or the creaking of a chair. ”I-I'm opening the door, okay?” She eased the door open and stuck her head in, only to freeze as her heart skipped.

The room was empty. Besides his backpack slumped against his closet, there was no sign of him. The bed was still made, there were no notebooks scattered on his desks. Only his posters and action figures filled the room, staring at her silent, glossy eyes.