Wings are wonderful and beautiful. Almost everyone in society grew them. They were normally found in some shade of brown, though some people had blonde wings that were much lighter than the brown ones.
Most people who had wings could fly, after all, the better you are at flying, the higher you stood in the hierarchy. Of course, how pretty your wings are also played a role in your ranking. The more beautiful they are, the more popular you are. Whether it’s color, wingspan, or even the softness of your feathers, everyone judges everything about anyone.
But of course, only ‘most people’ grew wings. Only ‘most people’ learned to fly. Only ‘most people’ could have beautiful wings with feathers softer than their pillows.
Izuku was not "most people". And he was reminded of it every day. Every single time he so much walked outside of his own house, people would stare. And some of the more outspoken ones would even say something straight to his face.
‘Mama, why doesn’t he have wings?’
‘Is he wingless? I feel bad for him…’
‘Don’t invite him to sit with us, he doesn’t have wings…’
‘What kind of kid is he? He must be defective…’
Izuku was wingless. He didn’t have any wings. Not even really small ones that would be impossible to fly with.
He simply just did not have wings.
And everyone steered away from him because of it. Because he was the only person they’d ever seen that didn’t have wings. And that made him different.
That made him weird.
That made him an outcast.
When everyone was 9 and most of his classmates had started to grow their feathers, he remembered being in awe of Kachan’s platinum blonde wings. They were so beautiful, and in such a rare shade too.
He would always stare at them in admiration, looking at Kachan’s pale wings with feathers that looked so sharp they could kill. He touched them once, just by accident of course, but they were actually really soft.
He waited every day for his wings to grow in too; checking the mirror every single morning when he woke up and every single night right before bed.
His mom always said that he would grow wings too.
Kachan always said that they wouldn’t be as pretty as his.
Mom was wrong, and Kachan was right.
Izuku never grew wings.
They never came in. When he turned 10, even all the late bloomers had grown theirs but he was still left wingless. Not a single feather grew on his back.
His mom had been worried about him.
She wanted to know why her son hadn’t grown his wings yet when everyone in his class had already grown theirs.
She took him to the doctors to see if there was a problem in his growth.
That was also the day Izuku got the worst news of his life.
Empty Feather Syndrome.
That’s what the doctor called it.
But to put it simply, Izuku had some sort of genetic that was passed down from his mom’s ancestors. A genetic that made it impossible for him to ever grow wings.
His mother cried with him at home that night. She apologized a million times for passing down the genetic to him.
He knew it wasn’t her fault.
It wasn’t his mom’s fault that the genetic happened to show on Izuku.
It wasn’t her fault that she carried the genetic.
It wasn’t her fault that Izuku would never grow wings.
It wasn’t her fault.
Eventually, when Kachan and his other classmates learned about his condition, they bullied him for it.
They bullied him for not having wings, for never being able to have wings.
Izuku knew it was the truth. After all, he would never grow wings with a wingspan large enough to stretch across the entire hallway. He would never grow wings in a beautiful and calming shade of brown.
And most importantly, he would never learn to fly.
Even now, as he walks outside, he can see people staring at him in disbelief. As he walks towards his new high school, he desperately hopes things will be different. But, he knows he’s just getting his hopes up.
Every school operates the same.
The prettier your wings are, the more people liked you.
The bigger your wings are, the more teachers favored you.
The better you are at flying, the more friends you have.
Izuku just simply didn’t fall into any of the categories. He would be a loner like he had been for several years before.
Walking through the halls, he was thankful no one was staring.
Of course, that was only because he made sure he got to the school early so no one would be there to stare.
He didn’t want anyone to look at his featherless back and already decide to ostracise him from the very minute he stepped into the school building.
Izuku stepped into his classroom, expecting to be the first one there. Only, there was someone else sitting in the back of the class.
Looking at the boy, Izuku could only stare at the beautiful pair of wings on his back.
One half was a snow white. It couldn’t even be considered blonde. It was just white. Paler than snow itself, it looked soft enough to be used as a blanket.
The other side was a flaming red. There was absolutely no way that it was any shade of brown. The fiery color seemed to demand attention. It certainly looked like it could be used as a weapon, considering how sharp the feathers looked.
It wasn’t even just the wings themselves that looked incredible. The boy had hair that was split the same way, pulled into a small ponytail that ended at his shoulders. The colors mixed together, creating a beautiful swirl of red and white.
When the boy turned to look at him, Izuku nearly lost his breath.
Even his eyes were split. The right side was a cold grey. The left eye was a piercing turquoise, covered in what looked like some sort of burn.
Upon realizing that he was staring, Izuku quickly tried to apologize.
“S-sorry! I just thought your eyes looked really pretty. Is it heterochromia? Wait, that’s probably rude, sorry,” he rambled.
The boy just stared at him for a while, making Izuku feel more and more nervous. The other students would definitely be arriving soon and he should probably find a seat, but he doesn’t feel like he can move.
The red and white winged boy nodded, before quietly saying “Shouto.”
“O-oh!” Izuku exclaimed, quickly walking to sit next to Shouto. “I’m Izuku. Izuku Midoriya.”
He placed his backpack on the desk, before suddenly remembering his lack of wings. Izuku looked over at Shouto, trying to see if the pretty boy noticed, but he was just staring out the window again.
He sat with Shouto at lunch. The other boy never asked him about why he didn’t have wings, so Izuku just never brought it up. He asked Shouto about his wings, but Shouto just seemed to clam up a bit, not offering any information, so Izuku stopped pressing.
They’re about 3 weeks into the school year when Shouto says something about his wings.
“My old man wanted me to have unique wings to keep up the family heritage,” he had suddenly said when the two of them were sitting on the roof. Nobody else was there.
“Because of that, he sought out my mom who had albinoism, giving her white wings.”
Izuku listened in curiosity and confusion, wanting to know more but also wondering why Shouto brought the topic up.
“She passed the trait down to me, which is why one of my wings is white.”
Shouto took a deep breath in as if preparing himself for something.
“She was always crying in my memories,” he finally said. “But it happened one day when I was younger.”
Izuku waited for him to elaborate, watching him intently.
“She was having a bad day, and then she saw me poke my head in. Mother only saw the red half of me,” Shouto told Izuku, moving his left hand to touch the edge of his scar.
“There was a kettle, and seeing half of me reminded her too much of my old man.”
Izuku stared at Shouto in shock. He knew that Shouto must’ve had some sort of rough childhood or something if he didn’t want to show off his absolutely beautiful wings, but he didn’t expect it to be this rough.
“But,” Izuku stopped thinking to continue to listen to Shouto who had started speaking again. “Before the incident, she told me she thought my wings were pretty. I can’t really come to believe that though.”
Izuku turned to face Shouto whose wings were currently tightly pressed against his back. Taking a deep breath in, he searched for the right words to say. How was he supposed to reply to that kind of bomb?
“Shouto,” he said slowly. “I just want you to know that you have the most beautiful wings I have ever seen.”
The heterochromatic boy looked up at him in shock, clearly in disbelief that anyone would think that.
Izuku bit his lip, before continuing. He knew he’d have to say it at some point, and with Shouto spilling his entire life story, he only felt it fair.
“I never grew wings as you can see,” he started, gesturing to his back. “And because of that, I was bullied. I was always jealous of people who had wings, no matter what they looked like.”
Izuku looked at Shouto who seemed to be studying him as he spoke.
“I wanted to be able to fly. But I never could, because I never grew wings. So please, don’t stop flying just because your feathers remind you of someone terrible,” Izuku pleaded.
He wanted to get through to the other boy. He wanted him to know that having wings wasn’t a bad thing. Reaching out, he lightly tapped Shouto’s wings.
“Your wings are stunning, okay? So don’t ever be ashamed of them.”
The other boy only stared at him in shock, before smiling a bit.
“Thank you, Izuku,” he said, before standing up. Shouto moves a bit, stretching his wings and it’s the first time Izuku’s seen them in their full glory.
A long wingspan, longer than almost all the wings he’s ever seen, seemed to stretch out for miles. The bright red and snowy white feathers seemed to reflect different colors under the sunlight as the wind brushed against Shouto’s hair.
And all Izuku can think about is how much the bicolored boy looked like an actual angel.
Another week goes by when the 2 of them are sitting on the rooftop again.
“You said you wanted to fly right?”
Izuku looked up in confusion at the question. He wasn’t sure why Shouto was asking him about it.
“Yes,” he answered, slightly unsure of what that had to do with anything. Shouto only smiled in return, moving to step next to Izuku.
“Good,” the boy said, grabbing the green haired boy’s arms. “Then hold on, okay?”
And before he could even properly process what was happening, Shouto had lifted him up, carrying him bridal-style as he soared through the sky.
When the initial shock wore off, he opened his eyes to look at the ground below, finally being able to experience what it would be like to fly above everyone else.
They land a few minutes later, the wind still tickling Izuku from the short flight.
He turns around to Shotuo with the biggest grin he thinks he’s ever had.
“Thank you so much, Shouto,”
The other boy only smiled in return, though his eyes were glimmering slightly as they walked down the stairs.
“Your welcome, Izuku.”