Quirkless

The first rays of morning light crept into Ryo's small, barren room, but they did little to warm the chill that seemed to permanently settle in his bones. He slowly opened his eyes, his body aching from the bruises and welts that painted his pale skin. The memories of the previous night flooded back to him—the beatings, the cold words, the crushing hopelessness. For a moment, he lay still, not wanting to face the day, wishing he could just disappear.

Suddenly, the sound of raised voices pierced the stillness. His heart sank. It was his parents, fighting again. He could hear his father, Shiro, his voice slurred with drunken rage, shouting at his mother.

"Damn it, Akane! If only you never gave birth to such a failure!" Shiro's words were like venom, each one a sharp stab to Ryo's already fragile spirit.

His mother, Akane, sat motionless on the other side of the door, staring into the void. Her once beautiful face was now hollow and gaunt, a shadow of the woman she used to be. Her eyes were empty, glazed over from years of substance abuse. She mumbled to herself, over and over, as if in a trance, "Don't leave me… don't leave me…"

Ryo could hear the despair in her voice, a kind of madness that blurred the lines between right and wrong. She was lost, broken beyond repair, and Ryo knew there was nothing he could do to save her. He wanted to help, but how could a four-year-old save anyone, especially when he couldn't even save himself?

The argument between his parents grew louder, and more vicious. Shiro's words were like knives, cutting deep into the fragile remnants of Akane's sanity. Ryo couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't bear to hear the awful things they said, especially when they were about him. He quietly pushed himself out of bed, wincing as the pain flared up in his limbs. He tiptoed to his door and gently pushed it open, peeking out into the living room.

There she was, Akane, sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest, rocking back and forth as she whispered those haunting words. Shiro stood over her, his fists clenched, his face twisted in anger and disgust. Ryo's heart ached as he looked at them. This wasn't a family. This was a nightmare.

Not wanting to be seen, Ryo quickly pulled the door closed, shutting out the awful scene. He leaned against the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold, hard floor. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying to make himself as small as possible. He pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sounds of their fighting, but it was useless. Their voices seeped through the cracks, relentless and unforgiving.

Time seemed to stretch on forever. The minutes felt like hours as he sat there, curled up in his corner, wishing he could be anywhere else. The sounds of their arguing faded into the background, becoming a distant hum as Ryo's mind wandered. He thought about the clip of All Might he had seen last night, the way the hero had smiled as he saved those people, the way he had stood tall and proud, unafraid of anything. Ryo wanted to be like that, to be strong and brave, to have the power to protect others, to protect himself.

But he wasn't like All Might. He was just Ryo, a quirkless, unwanted child with nothing to offer. He felt so small, so powerless, like a tiny star in a vast, empty universe. His eyes, those strange, cosmic eyes that his parents hated so much, reflected the swirling galaxies that he sometimes imagined inside them. They were the reason he had his quirk, but they were also the reason his parents despised him. He wished he could make them see the beauty in them, the potential, but all they saw was something hideous, something wrong.

An hour passed before Ryo finally heard the front door open and then slam shut. His parents had left, their argument taking them out of the house, leaving him alone once more. He slowly uncovered his ears, the silence almost as deafening as the noise had been. He stood up on shaky legs, feeling the emptiness of the house pressing down on him.

Ryo's gaze drifted to the window, the bright morning sun shining through. He knew he was on the first floor, and the thought of going outside, of escaping this place, even for a little while, filled him with a sense of longing. He knew his parents wouldn't be back for hours, so they wouldn't know if he left.

"They won't know if I come back in a couple of hours," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

He made his way to the window, his small hands gripping the edge as he tried to lift himself. His bruised and battered body protested with every movement, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain. As he climbed through the window, his foot slipped, and he tumbled to the ground, landing with a soft thud on the grass. He lay there for a moment, the cool earth soothing his aching body. Finally, he got to his feet, looking around to make sure no one had seen him.

The park was his destination, a place where he could find a moment of peace. He moved cautiously, sticking to the shadows, avoiding anyone who might recognize him. When he finally reached the park, it was empty, just as he had hoped. He made his way to the swings and sat down, the chains creaking softly as he settled in. The bruises on his body made it impossible to swing, so he just sat there, letting the quiet wash over him.

He closed his eyes, trying to forget everything—the pain, the fear, the hopelessness. But it was no use. The memories clung to him, refusing to let go. As he sat there, he heard voices approaching. He opened his eyes and saw four children entering the park, their laughter and chatter breaking the silence.

One of them, a green-haired boy with freckles, seemed to be the center of attention. But as Ryo watched, the dynamic quickly changed. The blonde-haired boy with red eyes stepped forward, his expression darkening.

"Stop! Kachan!" the green-haired boy exclaimed, his voice trembling with fear.

"Shut up, Deku!" the blonde boy laughed, his hands crackling with small explosions.

*CRACKK

Ryo watched as the blonde boy used his quirk to bully the green-haired boy, who didn't fight back. The other two boys stood by, not intervening, just watching.

Ryo's heart clenched as he witnessed the scene. He wanted to do something, to help, but he knew he couldn't. He was too weak, too scared. He wasn't a hero like All Might. He was just Ryo, a helpless, quirkless boy.

"I'm… not a hero…" he whispered, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

He tried to look away, to block out the sight, but he couldn't. When he looked back, the other boys were gone, leaving the green-haired boy lying on the ground, hurt and alone. Ryo hesitated for a moment, then slowly got up and walked over to him.

"Are you okay?" Ryo asked, his voice quiet and calm.

"Y–yeah..." The boy replied, struggling to sit up. His eyes were filled with pain, but also with a kind and stubborn determination.

"Ryo sat down in front of him, his gaze steady as he asked, "Why didn't you fight back?"

The boy looked down, his shoulders slumping. "I don't have a quirk yet," He admitted his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't have mine yet either," Ryo said. The boy looked up at him, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Really? Me too!" The boy said, his voice lighting up with a small, hopeful smile.

The two began to talk, their conversation slow and cautious at first, but gradually becoming more comfortable. The boy introduced himself as Midoriya, and Ryo found himself liking the sound of his name. It was a name filled with warmth, something Ryo craved.

But as they talked, Midoriya's gaze kept drifting to Ryo's bruises. "Why do you have so many bruises?" He asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Ryo didn't answer. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to relive the pain.

Instead, he looked up at the sky, noticing that it was already getting dark. Panic began to set in. He needed to get home before his parents returned.

"This is bad," He muttered to himself, his heart racing as he quickly got to his feet.

Midoriya looked at him in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"I have to get home," Ryo said, his voice tight with fear. he started to run, his legs pumping as fast as they could despite the pain.

"Wait!" Midoriya called out, his voice filled with desperation. "Can we be friends? Will you come tomorrow?"

Ryo hesitated for a split second before calling back, "Yeah, we can be friends. I don't know, but I'll try."

Midoriya smiled, a small, hopeful smile that Ryo couldn't return. He was focused on getting home, on avoiding another beating. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen if his parents found out he had left the house.

When he finally reached his home, he quickly and quietly climbed back through the window, his heart pounding in his chest. he changed into different clothes, trying to hide any evidence that he had been outside. Then he went to the corner of his room and sat down, curling up into a ball as he waited for his parents to come home.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, the door to his room slammed open, and Ryo flinched, his body tensing in fear. His father, Shiro, stood in the doorway, a bottle in his hand, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused.

"You little piece of shit," Shiro slurred, his words dripping with venom. "Don't come out of this room, you hear me?"

Ryo nodded, his stomach growling loudly, but he didn't dare say anything. He was too scared, too hungry, too tired to fight back. 

Shiro slammed the door shut, leaving Ryo alone in the darkness. His body ached, his stomach gnawed with hunger, but he didn't move. He didn't want to risk another beating.

As he lay down on the cold, hard floor, his mind drifted back to Midoriya, to the kindness in his eyes, the hope in his voice. Ryo wondered what it would be like to have a friend, someone who cared about him, someone who didn't see him as a failure.

But those thoughts were just dreams, and dreams didn't come true for someone like him. As his eyes fluttered closed, he knew that tomorrow would be just like today, the day after that, and the day after that.

He was alone, and no one was coming to save him.

Not even All Might.