Chapter Text
At the age of four, Izuku's world of hopes and dreams was utterly crushed, shattered beyond repair. It was like taking a sledgehammer to a mirror, hitting it as hard as possible multiple times, and then being told to pick up all the pieces and put them back together. Task: impossible. He went from a cheery, bright-eyed kid to an almost comatose state the day he was pronounced quirkless.
Surely, it was a misdiagnosis. That this was just a cruel prank that his mom and doctor were both in on; any minute now, they would say they were just kidding, and he would have to wait a little longer for his quirk to manifest. Initially, he would be upset at the prank, but later, they could all share a good laugh about it. But alas, the reassurance that it was just a joke never came, and when he saw his mom tear up and repeatedly apologize for failing to give him a quirk, his new reality finally set in. He would never be able to become a hero.
The news of his quirkless diagnosis spread like wildfire amongst his peers. They quickly isolated themselves from Izuku, and that left openings for the bullying to start. Those he thought were his friends turned against him in the blink of an eye, and then life wasn’t as rainbows and sunshine as Izuku thought it was.
Izuku had to learn the new social etiquette and understand its implications for him. Mostly, he kept himself away from everyone else to ‘prevent his disease from spreading’ and to avoid the bullies who wanted to take his toys. This often left Izuku feeling lonely, but he was a master at entertaining himself without needing his peers' companionship. He should try to look on the bright side. He couldn’t let his new reality break him; it would crush his mom if he did. Thoughts of nights flashed through his head when she held him and cried profusely, apologizing over and over again. No, he has to stay strong for her.
That's how Izuku found himself taking up various hobbies, including his collection of little rocks. Mother Nature has provided thousands of fascinating and unique rocks, waiting to be collected—a hobby that can be indulged in anytime, anywhere. He’s found smooth rocks, holey rocks, and rocks as red as bricks. On second thought, those might have just been broken pieces of bricks, but those were still technically rocks, right?
But nothing caught his eye more than the cube-shaped rock on top of a trash can. The smooth surface, the smooth gradient, and the perfect cube shape, with no cracks or blemishes visible. He knew at that moment that he must have it for his collection!
The only problem was that it was sitting on the edge of a big trash can, and he was just a little too short to reach it. Maybe he could get on his tippy toes and stretch? He felt his fingers barely brush the edge of the rock.
Thunk!
Izuku jumped at the loud sound and hurriedly took a few steps back. A small sigh left his lips. That didn’t work much to his dismay. The rock was now sitting inside the dumpster. It would be almost impossible for someone his size to get into the dumpster and retrieve the must-have, gloriously unique rock!
But Izuku isn’t one to give up. There was a crate half his size. If he were to drag it over, it would give him the height he needed to see inside the trash can. Then, he can plan how to retrieve the rock from there.
With some effort and the loud scraping sounds of wood on concrete, Izuku managed to move the crate into place. Hopping on top, he peered into the dumpster.
It turns out he wouldn’t need much of a plan to fish out the rock because it was caught along the side of the trash can and a bag of trash, thankfully preventing it from falling any deeper. Reaching in, Izuku fished around till he felt the rock. With a triumphant grin, he pulled it out.
And oh, was it worth the trouble of getting. What was once considered a smooth surface turned out to be slightly uneven, with minor bumps and ridges scattered throughout. No matter how hard Izuku ran his fingers over the surface, they never snagged or caught, keeping the cube rock still smooth to the touch.
As Izuku turned the rock in his hands to inspect it from different angles, he was startled and dropped it when he saw a blue eye staring at him from one side of the rock! The eye briefly closed before reopening and staring at Izuku from the ground. Rocks don't have eyes, so why does this rock do that?
Crouching down, he got a closer look. The eye didn’t do much but blinked once, twice, before closing, ending their little staring contest. He stared at where the eye was for a few minutes, waiting for it to emerge, but it never did. That got him thinking.
If rocks can’t have eyes, it mustn’t be a rock! It must be some kind of mechanical box that someone grew tired of and discarded. With a pleased smile, Izuku picked the box up. You know what they say: one man’s trash is another kid’s treasure!
So naturally, Izuku took it home with him to add to his rock collection. It's amusing that it's not actually a rock, but it resembles one enough that he still refers to it as one. It was like a… rock box! Yeah, that's what he will call it from now on! It's his Rock Box!
Gingerly, he picked up the box and wandered back to the daycare. His mom would be here soon to pick him up anyway. He couldn’t wait to show off his Rock Box!
It has been a few years since Izuku came into possession of his Rock Box, and he found himself asking. Was it weird to find more companionship in rock than in his classmates? The answer is glaringly clear. From an outside perspective, the answer is yes; it is indeed weird. But Izuku wasn’t going to let their opinions dictate his life choices.
Having his Rock Box for so long, he’s learned a few things about it. While it's not sentient, he finds that he can get the mechanical eye to open by gently tapping the cube a few times. Then the pretty blue eye that opened would stare at him, and he would marvel at how realistic the eye was. That was close enough to a person for Izuku, for as lonely as he was. He often finds himself tapping the box and ranting to it after the eye focuses on him about anything that comes to his mind. It's just like an ear to listen to him; only it's an eye instead. All through his rants, the eye focuses on him and only him, only closing when Izuku grows quiet.
Izuku won't admit it, but every time he rants to his Rock Box, that ache in his chest eases just a little bit. Therefore, he will continue to talk to his Rock Box, and nobody can tell him otherwise! He is upgrading his Rock Box from the prettiest rock in his collection to a paperweight. Therefore, he can take it wherever he goes!
That's how Izuku found himself with the cube, often sitting on his desk or in his backpack. The bullying is getting worse, and he needs moral support from his Rock Box. Watching the eye slide open during class and taking everything in was also an interesting experience. Glancing this way and that before settling back onto Izuku.
Initially, Izuku was worried that the bullies would try to take his Rock Box, but when that happened, the eye would open and stare them down. Izuku would say it was borderline glaring, but that would mean the Rock Box has sentience. How crazy would that be? But Izuku knew the eye unnerved the bullies enough that they avoided touching it for the most part. Bakugo is the only exception.
When Bakugo picked up the Rock Box for the first time, he tried to blow it up. The fear that Izuku had lost his prized possession caused tears to roll down his face in big, fat drops. Imagine his surprise when there was not a single scratch on the cube, and now, not one but many eyes were opened around the surface! All were staring at Bakugo unblinking.
Bakugo tried not to show it, but the single trail of sweat running down his face and the way he cringed revealed how unnerved he was by having at least a dozen eyes glaring at him. He chucked the cube at a wall with an explosion to accelerate the throw. “I hope your shitty cube breaks!” Before storming off, the two lackeys dutifully followed after Bakugo, not waiting to see the aftermath.
With shaking hands, Izuku rushed over to where his Rock Box had been thrown. A giant dent was in the wall, and the cube was on the ground. He gently picked up the cube and turned it over, looking for any damage. All the eyes were still open, and vaguely, Izuku noted that it resembled a pair of dice, with the eyes corresponding to the numbers on one. It was hard to describe, but Izuku swore he could almost feel rage radiating from the cube. He might need to rethink his theory of its sentience.
Izuku released a shaky sigh of relief when there wasn’t a single scratch on it. It appears his Rock Box is more durable than he gave it credit for. But the tears still weren’t stopping. “S-Sorry. I-I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. Through bleary eyes, Izuku watched as all the eyes on the cube closed except for one. The one eye stared and stared. He expected it would close after a few minutes, but it didn’t. It was oddly… comforting.
With a deep breath, Izuku did his best to pull himself together. Classes were over, and his bed sounded good right now. Gathering his stuff didn’t take long, and the Rock Box still had yet to close its last eye. Shoving it into his bookbag with the eye still open felt wrong, so instead, Izuku opted to carry it in his hands. On the trip back, the eye never closed, only focused on Izuku. It was a little unnerving, but it gave Izuku an idea.
Izuku turned the eye away from him so that it wouldn’t be able to see him. The eye started looking around, almost frantically. Amusingly enough, the eye ended up closing and reappearing on a different side of the cube, where it could see Izuku. Only then did the frantic darting of the eye come to a stop and focus back on Izuku.
Yeah, he was definitely rethinking the cube's sentience. He let the eye stare at him for the rest of the walk home, not wanting to risk upsetting it again. If this cube is sentient, he would show it more courtesy, and well, if it weren’t, it wouldn’t hurt anyway.
When Izuku got home, he gently put the cube back on his shelf with the other rocks. “I am going to go grab some food. I’ll be right back, okay?” There was no response from the cube, as to be expected, but the eye followed Izuku out of the room. It didn’t take long to heat a plate of leftovers and return to his room. The eye locked back onto him the moment he stepped into his room.
Izuku took this as a sign to fill the silence with nonsensical ramblings of the latest hero fights, breaking down their quirks and giving his theories on what else they could be used for. This was the longest time the eye had been open on the cube. Even when bedtime rolled around, the eye was still watching Izuku. It was a little creepy with how long the cube was watching him, but today's events were finally catching up to Izuku, and it didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.
When he woke the following day, the cube's eye was finally closed, giving Izuku some relief. He was definitely going to be more careful with the cube from then on.
Little did Izuku know the chaos that would follow from him befriending that little cube.