Fortune’s Favor

A/N: So I'm kind of having writer's block at the moment and in my omnipotent wisdom, I decided that the best thing to do was to try my hand at something else until I get my mojo back. 

WARNING: This is not a self insert. 

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All men are not born equal, I'd learnt that firsthand. Most people are born with quirks while some aren't. The profession of heroes is romanticized to an unhealthy extent. 

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fall into that category, but that was a long time ago. I recall the times I used to fantasize about being a hero, swooping in and saving the day. When my quirk came in, I was even more excited. 

Do you want to know what's almost as bad as being quirkless? Having a quirk that doesn't even work.

Energy, that's what my quirk was labeled as. I could feel the pool of energy inside of me but I couldn't do anything. My daily attempts to grasp it failed and every day I find myself disappointed. 

As if to mock me, the pool of energy grew along with me as I got older, yet I'm still unable to actually use it. I'd run out of tears to cry long ago. All I have left is pent up resentment. 

The ringing of the bell signified the end of the class as well as school for the rest of the day. No sooner had the bell rung did I feel the eyes on me.

Ignoring them, I packed my things and left. They didn't take the hint, trailing behind me as I left the school compound. Not long after that, they decided to make a proper appearance. 

"Oi Asahi!" A familiar male voice called out from behind me, a hand landing on my shoulder a moment later. 

Turning around, I'm met with two boys my age. The one who called me was a blue haired boy who had a nasty grin on his face. His companion was a brown haired boy with excessively long fingernails. 

"What do you two want now?" I asked, already knowing where this was going. 

"Why would we miss an opportunity to remind you of how useless you are?" The blue haired boy questioned rhetorically. 

The other boy, being the lackey that he is, merely laughed in agreement. The usual bullying resulted from the bullheadedness that came with a child's ego. 

"Get your hand off me." I sneered, brushing off the limb, only to feel current run through my arm, causing it to go numb. 

"Oops." He apologized, unconvincingly. "You're honestly pathetic. Even Choza is smart enough to stop dreaming about going to UA. We graduate middle school tomorrow and you still haven't figured out your quirk…you're never going to be a hero."

Choza is the single quirkless person in our class. Despite the fact that we were both the victims of a moronic society, we couldn't be any more different. Choza wasn't a fighter, he just buried his head in the sand and let them walk over him. 

I don't. 

Whirling my body to fully face him, I used the momentum to propel my knee forward, striking him in his groin. The effect was immediate, the boy folding into himself on the floor. 

Like he said, we graduate tomorrow so why not vent it out now. "You think just because you can do some tricks that you're special?" I question, my foot lashing forward and digging into his stomach. 

Aido Takashi, Quirk; shock palm. His quirk allows him to generate electric charge on his palms. 

The boy wheezed as I retracted my foot. "News flash, you're just as weak as I am." I said, turning to the other boy who shuddered in place. 

I never bothered to learn his name but his quirk allowed him to extend his nails to ludicrous lengths. Both were mediocre quirks in my opinion yet they attempt to lord it over me. 

Normally, I'd put up a small fight and slip away. Never like this. No matter how many times I rough them up, they always come back more arrogant than before. 

The sight of his friend on the floor wheezing in pain seemed to have jogged the common sense in his brain. Barely a moment later, he turned on his heels and took off, not looking back. 

Scoffing, I adjust my bag on my back before continuing on my way home. 

Xx-Xx-Xx

My home is simple and quiet. The same way it's been for the past five years, devoid of voices and movement besides my own. 

My parents are gone, killed during a villain attack. It turns out that people are less eager to help when the person involved is borderline quirkless. Sure I'm given a fixed amount at the start of every month by the government but that's the extent of it. 

No foster care home or anything of the sort. I'm fifteen now and the last five years of my life have been tougher than the first ten. 

Tossing my bag on the floor in my room, I enter the bathroom, starting the water up to wash my face. 

As I wash up, I try to tug on the energy within me once more. My eyes betrayed my rising excitement as I finally felt something. Just when I think I've finally gotten a hold of it, the energy slips through my metaphorical fingers. 

A curse left my lips as I splashed the cold water on my face. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get any further. Sure, it's more progress than I've felt since my quirk came in but it still didn't give me any help. 

Looking into the mirror, I'm greeted with the features I see every morning; short, messy black hair and dull blue eyes. 

I read about Olympic athletes that existed long ago that trained their body. They became obsolete along with the concept of equality as soon as quirks came along. Still, they inspired me. 

I won't be squaring up to anyone with a strength type quirk but I'm more fit than your average teenager. It may be arrogance on my part but I'll take that. 

Exiting the bathroom, my eyes flickered to the UA letter sitting on my desk. It wasn't an acceptance letter. It merely stated that my application for the heroics course has been noted and provided a barebones guidance on how the exam will be conducted. 

It would be in two parts, the written and the physical exam. I'm sure I'm smart enough to pass the written aspect, the physical part on the other hand… Let's see where that takes me. 

There's something that people don't understand, not that I expect them to. I don't want to be a hero because I want to save lives. I want to be a hero so I can find someone; the bastard who killed my parents. 

When I find him, there'll be nothing heroic about what I'm going to do.