The golden light of early morning spilled softly over the rooftops of Mustafu. Izuku Midoriya sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor of his room, a faint glow emanating from the runes he had painstakingly sketched around him. His hands hovered just above the center rune, trembling slightly with focus and anticipation.
He took a slow breath, grounding himself. The levitation spell was still new—too fragile to hold for long—but the slight lift he felt beneath him filled him with hope. The city below remained oblivious to the quiet magic weaving through its streets.
As the light shifted and the glow from the runes dimmed, Izuku let out a breath and gently lowered himself back down, his heart racing with the thrill of progress.
Across town, Momo Yaoyorozu sat at her cluttered desk, pieces of her latest creation scattered around her. Smoke bombs, tasers, tiny first aid kits—tools designed with precision, born from countless hours of trial and error.
She furrowed her brow, trying to summon the magical energy that had flickered from her fingertips days before. But it remained just beyond reach, like a whispered promise. Her quirk gifted her creation, but magic was something entirely different. Something she would need to learn.
Determined, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Trial and error," she murmured to herself, a mantra as much as a fact. "It's the only way forward."
Later that day, Izuku and Momo met at their usual training spot, a quiet park tucked between two buildings.
"I've been practicing levitation," Izuku began, his voice tentative but bright. "It's slow, but I'm getting there. I think… maybe runes could help stabilize it."
Momo nodded, setting down her satchel. "I've been working on integrating magic with my creations. Like support gear—but magical. I think my quirk could actually generate magical energy if I focus."
Izuku looked intrigued. "That sounds… like something Black Widow would do. Tactical, non-lethal, but effective."
Momo laughed softly, "Black Widow? I don't know her, but I like the idea. Being smart, prepared. That's what I want to be."
Their smiles were tentative but genuine—a fragile trust growing between two young heroes preparing for the storm ahead.
The evening news crackled quietly on a nearby TV as Izuku returned home. A stern-faced anchor reported, "Authorities remain on alert as recent upticks in organized crime hint at larger networks gaining ground in Mustafu. Citizens are urged to remain vigilant."
Izuku's eyes narrowed. The undercurrent of darkness was spreading. But the vigilantes—he and Momo—were starting to make a difference, even if small.
Izuku sat alone in his dimly lit room, the grimoire floating quietly before him, its pages glowing faintly in the darkness. Outside, the city hummed with life, unaware of the quiet battles fought in the shadows.
Two months remained until the U.A. Entrance Exam.
His thoughts drifted involuntarily to Bakugo — his rival, his complicated friend. The tension between them was unresolved, tangled in past hurts and misunderstandings. Izuku wondered if Bakugo would ever see him as anything more than a nuisance, or if they could truly find common ground.
But for now, that uncertainty was a quiet echo beneath the louder call of what lay ahead.
Izuku closed his eyes, steadying his breath.
"I don't know what the future holds… but I have to be ready."
The glow from the grimoire pulsed softly, as if acknowledging his resolve.