Inhalation. Exhalation.

Those were all that Izuku Midoriya did as he sat cross-legged in the middle of the room. A lone candle, scentless, flickered in front of him. He could not see the small, glowing flame; his eyes were closed, as was his mind and spirit. There would be no influence from the outside world affecting his meditation.

Instead of the outside, Izuku Midoriya focused on himself and his body. He felt every breath travel through his nostrils, down the back of his mouth, deep into his chest, before coming back up and out. He felt his heart beating a slow, steady, life-giving rhythm; it pounded lethargically against the inside of his chest. He felt his eyelids stretching over his eyes. He felt his hands upon his legs that were upon each other, and he could feel his verdant hair brushing against his scalp and forehead. He could feel his stomach moving, contracting and expanding, as it shifted the food he ate not too long ago deeper down. He could almost feel his blood moving through his body, doling out nutrients and oxygen to his cells.

Inhalation. Exhalation.

Cut off from the outside world, Izuku Midoriya sat there motionless. His mind was clear, his entire being relaxed; in this altered state of consciousness, Izuku felt deep in the moment.

That did not mean to say his mind would stir every once in a while.

Every so often, a stray thought entered Izuku Midoriya's mind; not all of them were conducive to an effective meditation. Some were worldly desires. Others were fears and anxieties that refused to rest. Still, it didn't take much for these thoughts to be banished and for the mind to clear again.

This lasted until the soft chime of a bell was heard; the alarm on Izuku's phone had gone off, signifying that his daily half-hour of still, mind-clearing meditation had ended. Taking one last breath, this one deeper than the last, Izuku opened his eyes. He blew out the candle in front of him and turned off the alarm on his phone. Slowly, he rose up and off of the floor in front of his bed.

Having already practiced his qigong and taichi that morning before school, and already having done his hatha yoga poses after finishing today's note-taking, Izuku had one last thing to do before his mother prepared dinner. Grabbing his phone, as well as a towel, a bag of salted chips, and a water bottle, he went to the kitchen. As usual, his mother, the sweet and chubby Inko Midoriya, was cooking dinner; it looked like today would be some type of fish.

"Mom! I'm going down to Dagobah Beach for my exercises." Inko briefly made stopped preparing food to look at her son, before she returned to her work.

"Alright, sweetie! Remember to be careful and to look both ways before crossing."

"I will!" With that, the green-haired teen exited his apartment and began to jog to the beach.

When he arrived, it was just the same as it was yesterday… and the day before that… and the week before that… and the year before that. It was a beach of beautiful sand and crystal-clear water, with the only things marring its appearance being the kilotons of junk and scrap metal that lay scattered around the otherwise pristine spot.

Carefully, Izuku made his way through the beach, taking care not to accidentally cut himself on the jagged strips of metal that marked some of the trashed, abandoned objects of glass, metal, plastic, and sometimes wood. Eventually, he made his way to his destination, hidden behind giant piles of trash.

It was his own personal gym… of sorts. There weren't weights or treadmills, but instead different types of dummies. There was one that was an old sack filled with sand and suspended from chains, perfect for strengthening blows; another was a modified, metal mu ren zhuang- a stationary, but rotatable, dummy with padded parts sticking out that, when hit, would cause the dummy to rotate, forcing users to hit and block as if it were an actual person. There was also a speed bag, which was attached to a pendulum attached to another pendulum anchored to the half-torn roof of an old sedan in a way that made the speed bag hang around near Izuku's chest; this chaotic mess moved randomly, with only a small indication of where the hittable part would end up, much like an agile opponent that one had no idea when or how they would move.

Halfway buried in the sand, in front of the training dummies, were a pair of blunted metal rods.

After setting a 45-minute timer, Izuku put his phone, bag of chips, towel and water bottle on top of a no-longer-functional television set and walked up to the metal, rotatable dummy. After stretching a bit, he hit one of the padded posts protruding from the dummy before hitting another. And another. And another.

Soon, he was hitting the protrusions and blocking them as they spun back around to hit him at a speed the average person would feel impressed by- but nothing to completely awe them. Still, it was something that exerted a lot of effort from Izuku, and when the timer rang he was sweating heavily and had finished 1/4 of his water bottle and bag of salted chips.

Turning off that timer, he set another one- this time for 5 minutes, so he could take a short break.

Inhalation, exhalation, munch, munch, gulp.

Finishing his small break, Izuku Midoriya set a new timer on his phone for 30 minutes. He bent down and picked up the metal rods. Taking a stance in front of the dummy, he swung the rods.

30 minutes later, after poking and swinging and blocking with the rods, Izuku heaved air and jabbed the rods back into the sand. Finishing off his chips and water bottle, Izuku dried himself off with a towel, he picked up his phone and texted his mom that he would be home shortly. After finding a bin t properly dispose his trash in, Izuku jogged home, knowing he would be back at the junkyard beach the next day to hit one of the other dummies. He'd do it again the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that.

Until he forged his own heroic path.

Decades ago, a baby was born with the ability to shine like gold; she had manifested the world's first genetic superpower, known as a Quirk, and many more would be born with other fantastical abilities. With these new abilities in hand, many began using them for their own selfish wants and for villainous acts while others used theirs to help others and fight crime; when governments around the world began to legalize, regulate, and licentize these do-gooders, the Age of Heroes had finally begun.

By now, the majority of the world's population- 80% at that- had manifested Quirks. The other 20% were the Quirk-less, marked by having an extraneous, vestigial pinky toe. They lived a life of boredom, a life of fear; many had been bullied, ostracized, and discriminated against.

Izuku Midoriya was one such broken soul.

And he had learned this lesson early on: People are not born equal.

But that doesn't mean Izuku would stop trying to be equal with everyone around him; this includes his personal volcano, a mountain for him to climb before he could do anything: Katsuki Bakugo. They were childhood friends until soon after Izuku discovered his Quirkless situation; Katsuki himself had an impressive quirk with explosive power, as well as an explosive personality equipped with blazing pride that wouldn't let him be friends-for-long with a Quirkless, defenseless Izuku- Deku for short.

Izuku had wondered to himself many times following that day in the park where he was beaten down simply for trying to play Hero despite his Quirklessness: where did their friendship sour? His friend, Kacchan, couldn't possibly be this mean and petty, right? These thoughts consumed him for only a few weeks, until he saw a video that changed his life forever and replaced his questioning with a strong drive.

He had simply been on NicoTube watching interviews with Heroes from when the era when Quirks first began to manifest; it was his hobby to learn about Heroes and their Quirks, so he figured it would be a nice idea to go sifting through the annals of history. The videos were old, barely watched, and of low resolution; Izuku must've been the first person to see these videos for a few decades, at least. Then, he spotted a title that caught his attention: "Fimmy Jallon interviews the Quirkless Kung-Fu Hero: Dragon Jumpsuit." Without any hesitation, Izuku clicked the link.

As he watched the interview, Izuku's face contorted into shock, then awe, then a grin, and lastly a beaming smile with the pupils of his eyes dilated to the max. There he was, watching a video about the dawn of the Heroic Age and one of its greatest products: someone who was quirkless like him.

Partway through the interview-odd, since this was a question that should've been asked at the beginning- Fimmy Jallon asked the Hero why he was a popular figure and why he continued to be a Hero, despite lacking powers like everyone else had.

"You say I have no powers, just because I don't have a Quirk? Simply because I rely on the limits of the human body and human skill? Do not look down on me for lacking a Quirk. I have power on par with Iron Cyborg, Captain Super, and Ultra-Rider. It is the power that drives people to protect and serve their fellow man, to defend from evil. Do not jump to the conclusion that I mean my skill in the martial arts, a skill that I honed and worked on for many years. No, my power is Heroism itself! As I outlined in my book The Way of the Hero, all someone needs to have to be a Hero are the three tenets of Heart, Hard Work, and most of all, Discipline.

The path of the Hero is not easy: it is fraught with not just danger and foes, but setbacks, mountains, hard expectations, rivals, and temptations. It is so easy to give up, to give in to any of the things I've mentioned, or worse. A Hero must be willing, and able, to get through any hoop and hurdle. They must be willing to practice and refine their techniques and abilities, to grow and learn as I have. My martial arts skills have helped me to shape and signify the three tenets as they are, because someone cannot call themself a Hero unless they have the desire to be a hero, the will to strengthen their bodies and improve their skills, and the discipline to keep themselves from crossing a thin border into villainy.

As long as someone can do those three, then anyone- and I mean, anyone- can be a Hero!"

Izuku couldn't listen to the next part of the interview, a discussion on an up-coming (to them, at least) early version of China's Hero Laws. He was too busy crying in happiness, a noise that attracted his mother from her room.

It was then that Izuku showed her the video and communicated to her his own idea of becoming a Hero, his own idea of fulfilling his dream before it could get crushed by a lifetime of bullying. At her son's passion, Inko Midoriya couldn't help but cry too.

Izuku had grown past his initial training regimen, adding on to it and subtracting from it over the last ten years of his young life. He had sifted through the internet, looking for martial arts drills and styles for him to practice with, techniques he could use as a hero- and as a kid growing up.

From hard styles to strengthen his body to soft styles to strengthen his mind and soul, Izuku's bullies never picked on him the same again. They still attacked him with words and fists, as normal bullies did; but now their words were easier to shrug off, and he could give a bruise for a bruise- as long as it was done in reactive self-defense, never preemptive. As he grew older and more proficient, he was being picked on less and less. Still, he was getting picked on, with the chief offender being Katsuki Bakugou.

Maybe it was because of that blazing pride of his that wouldn't allow anyone to surpass him in anything, nevermind reach his level. Maybe it was because he had sadistic tendencies, and the potential for villainy. Maybe it was because of the general negativity directed towards the Quirkless minority. Whatever it was, Katsuki would always take time out of the day to insult, berate, and sometimes fight with Izuku, calling him "Deku" all the while. Honestly, he was the only one who could really do any sort of physical or psychological damage to Izuku.

The torn shirt he wore, and the burnt notebook in his hand that contained all his notes on Hero's Quirks and heroic ideals and all his own plans and dreams for when he could finally reach that Hero stage, were proof of that. Izuku just knew, as he walked home from another day of school, that he was going to bruise all over later.

Bruises will be bruises, be they mental or physical. But bruises can be shrugged off, they can be healed. All it takes is a strong enough will, a drive to patch up, move on, and grow from the experience- besides, plants grow more after a rainstorm, and people do too. It doesn't matter who or what caused the bruises, from old supposed-friends like Katsuki Bakugou to random strangers like that person made out of slime sneaking up behind Izuku. He'll be fine so long as he keeps his skills and the three tenets of Heart, Hard Work, and Discipline.

He'll be fine so long as he keeps up his fighting spirit.

A/N: "Hey, so what do you think?"

"... Seriously? That's how you end chapter 1?"

"Yes."

" It's no wonder you have a C in your Language Arts class. Hell, the ending isn't even as much of a problem as some other crap in this, like Dragon Jumpsuit's speech- and his Hero name."

"Funny, the only piece of crap I see for miles is you."

"Dumbass, I am you."

... Oh shit he's right.