Are You Up For Some Medicine?
Combat Medic! OneShot.

The following story has been told countless times, with many variations and almost infinite spins. One would have to be foolish to think themselves special. Sometimes it is a new quirk, sometimes it is a spin on the original story, and sometimes it is just a change of heart, and thus attitude.

This one is a something like that.

Life is not fair and men are not born equal.

Knowing this fact is simple, but truly understanding it sometimes is hard. Everyone enjoys feeling special, and if a genetic thing that grants them individuality is what does so, then what does it matter? The future waits for no one, and there are no do-overs in life.

Midoriya Izuku knew this fact; even as a child, he intrinsically understood this circumstance about his life. He had "won" the genetic lottery and ended up being the lucky one born without a [quirk]. Life as a child wasn't so bad, but deviation from normality caused discomfort in people.

It didn't matter if he was smart, if he read all his kanji correctly or if he painted all his drawings in line; he did not have a quirk, thus he was unsuited to be among his peers. He was "allowed" to be around them, but being "with" them was torture. He tried. He really did try to fit in, to be a good lackey and a yes-man, but he simply was not wired like that.

He begged for any higher being that would listen to his childish pleads and promises of obedience and worship (as much as a young child could), but at the end of the day he still remained the same old [Deku], as Katsuki-kun was always apt to remember and make him remember.

Pre-school among his fellow kids was rough, he wasn't accepted.

He was quirkless after all.

Junior (elementary) school was rough as kids figured out his disability and began to push him around. Teachers would do nothing, he was a mere Deku after all. What use was defending the kid?

Junior high was the worse period of his life. Bullying wasn't just a common occurrence, it was rampart in his life. His classmates, his teachers…hell, kids from other schools sometimes picked on him because, what was he to do? He was just the insignificant Deku; he had no talents, he had no friends and he had no quirk.

Did it matter if the world was full of heroes?

Where was his hero?

All Might? Endeavor? Mirko? Edgeshot?

His second year before Senior High school was where Izuku had enough. No matter what he did, he was bullied. It didn't matter how good his grades were or how good was his behavior, his peers did find fault in him. He was too damn useless to do something about his condition they said.

"A quirkless bastard like you has no right!"

"You are so useless! Nobody likes you!"

"Fuck off, you Deku! Stop being creepy and stop following me!"

It might have taken a while, but he finally got the hint. He was already thirteen, but not a single sign of a quirk had appeared. His faint hope had long been a mere flickering glow in a pile of ashes, and now that faint heated glow fizzled out.

Izuku was in his room, dull green orbs staring dully at the screen of his computer, finishing the last batch tests that were needed for his graduation. His room was only lit by the blue glow of the screen, the young boy not bothering to turn on the lights, he wasn't worth the energy it would consume.

He wondered if his mother regretted birthing such a defect as him. The random thought swan in head, the teen finishing his work and glancing at the mirror fixed in the wall next to his dresser.

"…good boy." He muttered to himself, the noise sounding somewhat alien to him. He hardly spoke after all, since his voice would grate and annoy his classmates. It was better to keep silent, especially since had finally managed to find some worth for his useless hide.

Medical studies.

It was clear that his presence was a bother for everyone around him, thus it would such better suit them that he went away and became skilled in something, to give worth to his empty shell of a life. The best thing that his mind could come up with was this.

Being a doctor of any kind would grant him useful skills and he might make some good money. Pay back his mother for being such a burden on her life.

Normally it would be impossible for him to learn any sort of medical knowledge this early, not without some deep pockets or good friends in high places. Forget it, he had neither.

Thus, shady research and many suspicious websites later, he had managed to get his chance.

Just because modern life in Japan was good, it didn't mean the same applied to other places. The news media was more interested in scandals and pro-heroes, very little outside of that brought in viewers after all. However, with a little digging and some luck, Izuku found himself enlisted in some shady Japanese website that promised to allow him to study about medical studies. He wasted no time putting in his information.

Nobody would miss him, he was a mere burden after all

Inko knew she was not perfect, but she tried. Her marriage had been left in shambles after her Husband Hisashi found out their son was quirkless, but he still helped. Was it out of guilt or a warped sense of responsibility? It didn't matter.

The mother knew her son was going through some tough times, but he was always so quiet and silent, she didn't know where she could help. Her sweet Izuku never complained or cried, he just put his head down and braced for any hardships he faced.

Whether he was swamped with group projects or never-ending homework, he never whined, he just did what was needed. She didn't know the truth behind it, but today she would figure it out. This couldn't continue, it wasn't healthy; her baby boy didn't have excitement in his eyes, he didn't shine with happiness or even talked about heroes. He merely walked through live without a true passion, just pushing and pushing.

Inko silently opened the door of his bare room, regretting not trying to immerse herself into her son's life earlier. He was her everything. She would change that now.

An empty room was all she found. First she got worried; then, she tried to call his phone. It never picked up.

Fear began to grow into dread.

She called the police and answered all their questions. They searched every inch of the room and even got into her boy's computer. It was wiped clean, almost as if factory-reset. They had no lead.

Despair gripped Inko's heart and she wailed.

The tent he was staying at shook and one of the flaps opened, bringing in cold and soggy air inside. The child lifted his head to glance at who had entered, finding a man in blood-stained military fatigues carrying another male, this one missing both legs, which ended in gruesome stumps.


Quirked soldiers tended to think of themselves as invincible. Well, military weaponry tended to not care if one didn't have an extra pinky-toe bone or not, they distributed their payload equally to those around it.

He sighed. He was elbow deep inside a man's chest cavity, repairing a damaged artery, yet his eyes still dully glanced at the incoming patient with a professional outlook. Not truly interest or passion, just a dull sense of duty to his Hippocratic oath; he glanced down to make sure his work was finished before he proceeded to the next man in need of medical care.

"…good boy." He whispered to himself, discarding his blood-stained gloves before approaching his next patient.

"…bad boy." Izuku reprimanded himself, dull green eyes staring at the dead man in front of him. There was no saving him from the very beginning, the mercenary/thug had taken a shotgun shell center mass, right into the pericardium. To make matters worse, the thugs that had done his employer in tried to finish him up too, forcing Izuku to break the sacred rule of his profession.

Do no harm.

The teen wondered if his contract was now terminated or if he should return to mainland and wait further instructions. He was a – technically – no better than these dead man, a contracted merc. The difference lay in that as he was hired to patch up and keep the forces running.

The teen sighed in something akin to frustration, his dull greens scanning the room. Time to call HQ and see where he was dispatched next.

"You want me to what?"

"Midoriya, listen to me; we have been disbanded. The heroes did some snooping about and found out about us, so we have been ordered to disband and disappear. We can at least get you home, it is the least we can do for you. Your files have been whited-out, so you can start a new life back in Japan. There must be something that you want to do there, right?"

Izuku dully stared at man in front of him.

"Listen, kid. You have been out in the field for five years! Five years! There must be something out there that tickles your fancy, right? Your mother? A girlfriend? Fuck, I don't know, a dog?"

The young adult rested his hands in his white-coat's pockets, idly playing about with some of the items in there.


The man clicked his teeth and waited as Izuku's dull orbs stared him down, the man almost seeing the gears spinning inside the greenie's head.

"Anything there, Midoriya?"

The young doctor nodded.

"Giran, could you get my stuff transported back to Musutafu?"

The man seemed taken aback at the request, but nodded. "You sure? This could get the heroes and the suits knocking on your door."

The young doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"Suit yourself, kid."

It was in fact, fine.

At a workshop/warehouse Izuku had opened a small clinic. Forging shit was Giran's specialty, so it wasn't hard to get the paperwork and all that jazz, but the young doctor had a bit of catching up to do with the real world. Thus, he had holed up in his new workshop for a month, barely sleeping and mostly shoveling down MRIs in his mouth to get on with the news.

He left his hidey-hole to get some fresh air and a new delivery of foodstuff when something small bumped against his leg. The doctor glanced down to find a young child on the ground, dressed in what seemed to be a standard hospital gown, arms and legs covered in bandages. White hair was a mess of matted hair and her eyes were moist and desperate, almost like the eyes of the mercs that realized they would die regardless of his intervention.

They tried to cling to live desperately, promising mountains of money as compensation if he accomplished the miracle of life. Yet, he was merely human, a quirkless one at that. He had some worth, some skill; however, he was no god.

Around the corner a few thug-looking individuals in masks approached him and the little girl, the child trembling and scrambling to her feet, hiding behind his legs and grasping at his pants with all her childish strength.

"Oi, Eri! You know you ain't supposed to do that! You run and the boss will punish us!" One of the thugs shouted at the girl, hurriedly approaching the young doctor with dull eyes. "Excuse us, mister. Could you please give back my…friend's daughter? He asked me to watch her out while he was busy." The man spoke in a friendly tone, the two behind him merely watching the situation play out.

The child clinging to his leg flinched, trembling almost like a leaf hanging on a branch during a storm.

Izuku's dull orbs stared at the man, seeing the friendly visage slowly began to tense up, the man most likely going to use his quirk if Izuku did anything. He slowly crouched, turning his head towards the girl and finding her to be staring at him with panicked eyes. She was afraid and afraid he was going to sell her out. Her small hands unclutched from his pants and rested at her sides.

His eyes did a rapid scan of her condition. He rose to his full height, just about meeting the thug's.

"Did you know that the average reaction time for humans is 0.25 seconds to a visual stimulus, 0.17 for an audio stimulus, and 0.15 seconds for a touch stimulus?" He asked, stuffing his hands inside his coat's pockets.

"Huh? The hell are you pratting on about?" The thug asked, his temper already growing.

The young doctor sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "…mad boy." He whispered to himself.

"What was that?"

"Now, young lady, what would you like to eat?" Izuku dully asked the small girl, sitting her on the counter.

The girl stared at him with her big red pupils, unsure what to say. She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes settling on a red fruit. "c-c-c-could I e-e-eat an apple?"

The doctor didn't answer with words, he merely approached the fruit basket and brought the entire thing over, placing it close to the girl. A few open drawers revealed a small plate and a small knife. The blade made the girl flinch, her entire body shaking as she eyed it with fearful eyes.

Izuku noticed the flinch, but moved as if he had not. He picked the freshest apple from the bunch and brought it to the sink, giving it a good wash before he dried it and placed the fruit on the blade. Slow and collected moves had the fruit cut up in bite-sized chunks, the blade soon brought out of sight.

"Here you go, little one. Have as many as you want." He said, already picking up the next apple and working on peeling it, turning his back to hide the blade as he worked on the fruit.

Eri stared at the delectable treat in front of her with wide eyes. "C-c-can I really it it?"

The doctor turned his head back and offered the girl a smile. She flinched. He schooled in his features, returning to his neutral gaze and easing the girl's expression.

"Yes. Yes, you can." His allowing words made the girl attack her plate voraciously, stuffing her mouth with as much of the fruit as she could. She barely chewed on it, afraid that he would take it away if she took too long.

She, rather inevitably, choked on it. His hand was raised, and Eri closed her eyes in fear of a lashing or a strike. The blow never came, and instead a soothing touch patted on her back.

"Easy does it, the food will not run away." His touch was soft, a kind thing that she had never knew.

It was so kind.

It was so warm.

It was strange.

Before she knew it, she was crying and clutching her arms around his neck. He whispered a soothing tone, his hands patting her head and back soothingly.

"…good girl."

"Otou-san, I found this teddy bear waiting for you in the entrance." Eri exclaimed, holding the creature's hand and gingerly bringing it to the living room.

The doctor came to the living room, wiping his hands clean of some sort of ointment. "Baby-girl, you cannot accept gifts from strangers, okay?" Izuku said, finding Eri sitting on the couch beside a creature dressed in a suit.

"Good Afternoon, Midoriya-san!"

Izuku blinked his dull orbs a few times. Yep, it was still there and it was looking at him, waiting for an answer. He massaged his dry eyelids, hoping to force some moisture to wet his orbs.

Nope, the bear/mouse/dog – dressed in a suit, he might add – was still sitting on his couch, offering him tea.

"I knew that lack of sleep brought about hallucinations, but I haven't taken in any Vyvanse lately to pull all-nighters…" Izuku muttered to himself. He sat on an opposite comfort chair, Eri rushing to his side to sit on his lap. "So, how can I help you?"

"Wow, the rumors are true. You truly sound soulless." The creature spoke in astonishment, making Izuku blink twice. Was he being offended? Complimented?

The bear/mouse/dog being put his paws up in a sign of surrender. "Apologies, I was just surprised."

Fair enough.

"How can I help you?"

"Straight to business, huh? Well, I can work with that. Midoriya-san, won't you give us Eri?" The mouse said those words in a happy-go-lucky tone.

Izuku blinked.

Eri jumped from his lap and with a pitter-patter of steps, made her way to the adjacent room that Izuku had left not too long ago. A muffled voice echoed from the room.

"…short-stuff, what is going on? Can the doc finish treating me up or not?"

"Wait a bit, burnt-san. Otou-san is talking about grown-up stuff."

"Whatever, at least he isn't that quack."

The mouse turned his head to the sounds. "You were busy treating patients? I'm sorry to interrupt, but this will be quick. Your answer?"

Izuku lowered his head. "…mad boy."

"Next time you want to commit suicide, do it by your damn self, you damn rat." Aizawa Shota, aka Eraserhead, complained to his employer, quickly fleeing from the area while carrying the mouse/bear/dog.

The creature maintained a strained smile, but his beady black eyes seemed alit with a fire. Aizawa knew that look. The fucking rat wanted to hire whoever had almost killed him. The audacity of this thing!

"I assure you that my plans were calculated. Once Midoriya-san calms down, we can truly start negotiations."

"If your grandiose plan was to piss him off, then you have achieved success. Now he just wants to skin you alive for daring to try to take his daughter away from him."

"Knowing to what lengths he is willing to go for his child was necessary. Now we know what to expect from him. His expertise is…"

A figure appeared ahead in their path. A man in a doctor's coat, his right hand grasping a surgery scalpel blade while his left hand held four syringes filled with a noxious-looking concoction.

"I sure hope you have a plan for that, you fucking rat." The hero grumbled loudly, grasping his scarf to engage the enemy.

"We talk him down, Aizawa-kun."

"…bad boys. Mad boys."

Eraserhead glanced at his employer as if looking at a lunatic.

"You want to give it try first?" Aizawa asked.


No, there will be no more for this one. I just wanted to push this idea out of my mind, so if you want to take it and run a marathon with it, be my guest.

Much like the military-themed one, I just had this light idea that tried to be born, but was killed Blood God and True Shield, so there is that. Enjoy it for what it is.