Chapter Text
Izuku always wondered why ever since he was born it seems like he was a gun loaded with bullets, shooting everyone in his life, shooting every person he loved just for being him.
His father took the first bullet upon learning that his precious son wasn't even his own.
In a fight that Inko and Hisashi had, the woman had ended up in a bar with too many drinks, one thing led to another and nine months later she found out that the little boy she had waited so long for was the result of an infidelity. Holding his little boy, crying (he had so many tears, he could not stop crying) he no longer felt that deep love that led him to wait so long for him, the affection with which he looked for names for him, with which he planned his first birthday, his first word, his quirk... He only felt that everything became a deep resentment towards the little bastard.
So at only a few months old he couldn't bear to see another man in the boy's face, so with all the toys he had bought, every preparation he had for them together he packed them in a suitcase and leaving for work one day he simply never came back.
He still remembers the many calls from Inko, the messages crying and begging him to come back, demanding why he had left, the hatred that came after he knew he would not return to her. In the face of it all, that Hisashi just threw away his phone, took a flight to the United States and never returned.
zuku Midoriya's next bullet was not something fleeting. But rather in slow motion, impacting the life of the stricken slowly until it hit her heart and there was no turning back.
Inko Midoriya didn't know what to do, her husband left her because of a little slip up he had while fighting, she knew the child wasn't Hisashi's but she hoped he wouldn't find out... If it wasn't for the damn hospital everything would be fine, they would still be a happy and united family. The day her husband left without another word she had had a thousand emotions, of course she was sad, but more than that she was furious, how dare he leave her with a child, one she hadn't even wanted to have, without pressure from her husband? He was a damned bastard, she wanted to be alone with him, the child didn't matter to her and now she would have to take care of him.
And the child was a crybaby, he never shut up, Inko was sick of hearing him cry all day long, she fed him, changed him and put him to sleep, wasn't that enough? Yes, maybe the child cried because she barely looked at him or held him, but she was giving him what he needed to live, shouldn't he be quiet and still? She admits that she would put earphones or earplugs in her ears so she wouldn't have to listen to the child until he simply cried himself to sleep.
Inko knew she wasn't the best mother for doing that, but... frankly she didn't care, the child had ruined her life and not content with that she wouldn't stop crying damn it.
As the child grew older Inko's hostility only increased, by the age of 1 year the child was starting to look like the damn man she was with. The ugly freckles were starting to show and his Chinese green hair bothered her because that's what Hisashi's hair was like in his youth.
Inko knew Izuku knew she didn't love him, “mommy, why did daddy leave?” “didn't he love us?” even if it was cruel she would answer him with the truth.
They didn't love him, it had been a mistake to have him and she regrets it because her father didn't take her with her.
Izuku might be small, but he knew what it was like to be unwanted.
He was small, but that didn't stop him from piercing his mom's heart with his second bullet when he found out he didn't have a quirk.
He found out when he returned from the appointment where he was told that from now on his value was to be a null for society.
He slowly watched the bullet go through his mother's body, the stares and whispers he received for giving birth to someone worthless, being left with no friends other than the Bakugou, the multiple hours he had to work... Izuku saw his mother's body cracking because of him, when the bullet finally impacted her soul and she was never a mother to him again.
Bakugou Katsuki was the third to receive the bullet, however, he was also the first to return it.
When they were children, Izuku saw Katsuki as a hero. No matter if he was arrogant or cocky, Izuku only saw someone strong, brilliant, with a glorious future assured. Someone who was everything he could ever be.
But Katsuki didn't see it the same way. From the moment he found out that Izuku didn't have a Quirk, he stopped being his friend and became his target. No matter how much he tried to smile or how much he pretended it didn't hurt, Izuku soon understood the truth: he wasn't worthy of being next to someone like Bakugou. Not when he didn't have a Quirk, not when he was weak, not when his very existence was a mistake.
Every insult, every shove, every punch was a constant reminder of his place. “Deku” wasn't just a nickname, it was a sentence. And worst of all, Bakugou was right.
That was when Bakugou shot back at him.
In the worst possible ways he understood that Bakugou was not only returning a bullet, but the whole cartridge.
But Izuku never defended himself, never returned the bullet. What for? His mother had already taught him that he was not worth it, that no one would ever love him. That once wounded by Izuku Midoriya's bullets would never restore the relationship.
Why should Katsuki treat him any differently?
When he entered high school, the situation only got worse. Bakugou not only beat him, but also enjoyed seeing him fall. And he was not alone. Other classmates followed him, laughing, mocking his uselessness, letting Bakugou destroy him bit by bit. Letting in more bullets one by one into his body until he was broken.
Ironic that the next shot would be given to him, instead of him give it to someone else. He went through elementary and high school he learned a very important lesson. Don't trust adults.
Of course he had been learning it from his mom, but he was sure when the first time at the age of six the teachers ignored the teasing and bullying of his classmates towards him, he learned that from now on if he didn't know the shot then people would without hesitation shoot him, but, Izuku hates to hurt people, hates to make others cry and would rather die than throw one more bullet so since he was little he promised himself that no one would take a bullet from him.
Primary school teacher Sasaki had no qualms about shooting him with words.
“Izuku, you need to stop crying you're an exaggerator” ‘You're ungrateful’, ‘Someone like you is a defect to society’, ‘Why do you strive if you never achieve anything’, ”You don't need to do the work of what you want to be when you grow up because surely you're no longer... there, you shouldn't exist by then.”
He never knew what he did to his teacher to make him hate him so much, but in the end he remembered that just existing was completely unacceptable to others.
Every word stuck in his heart and mind until he understood that it was true. He was worthless, others would be better off without him, if everyone hated him he should hate himself right? He should not exist. Nobody helped him because he didn't deserve help, he was a defective... being, was he even a human? Unevolved said his mind (and everyone around him), he was someone (or something) that violated the food chain and the theory of evolution. He deserved to suffer.
By the end of elementary school Izuku was totally okay with the place he had in the world. Null.
He should have known that elementary school would be a field of roses compared to high school. He should have anticipated that here the kids would be more... creative, witty and cruel.
Of course he tried the first day to make some friends (silly, stupid deku who thought anyone would want to hang out with the quirkless monster, along with his sickness and uselessness).
He thought it would be his new beginning, however, he only received punches and bleeding teeth in return for his smile, looks of hatred, disgust and repulsion were always going in his direction.
The situation only got worse from there Bakugou not only beat him, but also enjoyed seeing him harder. And he was not alone. Other companions followed him, laughing, mocking his uselessness, letting Bakugou destroy him bit by bit. It burned him. Small explosions aimed at his skin, leaving scars that he still bore on his body today. His arms, his back, even his face once felt the burning of those flames.
The others were not far behind, finding pleasure in putting tacks in his shoes, in tripping him with ropes tied to his chair, in pushing him against the lockers with such force that his bones ached for days. They spat at him, cursed at him, hit him with their quirks (he didn't want to think about how the professor was the first to set the...example of how they could use him to hurt him).
It wasn't enough to harm him physically. The harassment never stopped, whether it was on the internet with pictures of his falls, of his injuries, of the moments when he couldn't help but cry at school. Screenshots on social networks full of cruel comments, of taunts and threats disguised as jokes. “Maybe you should really disappear, Deku.” “Don't you realize you don't belong here?”
Teachers added to the torture in sometimes subtle ways, with disparaging remarks about his uselessness, annoyed looks when he raised his hand to respond in class. But there were others, the worst, the ones who made sure he learned his place.
Izuku hated (feared, was terrified) of those teachers.
The English teacher was among the worst. Mrs. Mika loathed Izuku, sooner rather than later she ran out of patience (in the early days) and got tired of his mumblings (The creepy, boring, infuriating mumblings).
Izuku never thought there would come a day when the consequence for it would be a muzzle. Never until he saw it in the hand of Mistress Mika who with a cruel smile was telling him to turn around and that it would be his new reality from now on. “You're very annoying, Deku,” she would say graciously as she put the torturing object around his mouth. “Maybe then you'll learn not to mumble all the time.” She kept it on until the class was over, feeling the rough cloth press against her skin, feeling the humiliation seep into every fiber of her being. He didn't speak at all that day. And after that, even when the muzzle was removed, he found himself struggling to say even a word.
He can´t.
The object of torture seemed to please the other teachers as Mrs. Mika was gleefully saying that she had found the solution to the monster's problem, intrigued they all went to watch a class in which Izuku was the centerpiece.Mrs. Mika called him to the front with a smirk, “Deku, come here.
Izuku swallowed saliva and stood up with trembling hands. He knew he couldn't refuse. Not when a single gesture of defiance could mean worse.
-Show them how loud you are-Mika said, holding up the muzzle in front of the entire class. Laughter drowned out any attempt at resistance. Izuku could barely move his lips uttering a small “please no” before the rough cloth was once again wrapped around his face, this time secured tighter. Izuku struggled to breathe, for even though his nose was not plugged he felt the air leaving his lungs, with teary eyes he went towards the direction of his desk when the teacher stopped him- I think you can see my tactic paying off for society from now on- announced teacher Mika in the direction of the teachers who were watching the scene in amusement.
The classroom erupted in laughter. Some students took out their phones to record. The murmurs were digging bullets into their skin.
“He looks like a dog.”
“Maybe then he'll finally stop bothering us.”
“We shouldn't let him eat either, dogs don't eat at the table.”
They would steal his food. Every lunch, every snack he managed to take with him, disappeared. Sometimes he would find his lunch lying on the floor, trampled, covered in dirt. Other times he simply never saw it again. On more than one occasion, he spent the entire school day with an empty stomach, feeling the hunger biting at his insides while others laughed around him.
They locked him in the lockers. Dark, cramped, suffocating. No matter how much he begged, how much he banged on the door, they never let him out until they got bored. Sometimes they would leave him inside for hours, until someone (Izuku begged) came to get him. He would come home late, with swollen eyes and a sore body, and his mother wouldn't even care, she would see him shrug her shoulders and with a bored look she would go to her room.
It was his fault. It always was.