Narrated by Izumi:
It's already morning; I realize it when the sunlight touches my face, still sleepy. As I get up, I notice I'm not in my room, but in that of my special person—my Onii-chan. It's small, but very cozy, even more so than mine.
I look at my brother, who's still holding my hand firmly while he sleeps peacefully in that old chair. Seeing him like this makes me happy, though it also annoys me a little. As I move to get comfortable, I notice he's waking up, showing me his usual smile. That same smile that reminds me that, in this darkness of life, there is at least a glimmer of light.
—Good morning, sleepyhead. Did you sleep well this time? —he said with a light chuckle.
His smile fills my soul with peace, as if he were a pure angel.
—Good morning, Onii-chan. And yes, thank you very much —I reply with a similar smile, opening my eyes reluctantly.
—Come on, get up. Go to your room and wash your hands before breakfast. I don't want Miss Inko getting mad and punishing you again —he says with a laugh.
His tone is cheerful, but it saddens me. Just remembering what they do to him makes my blood boil.
I head to my room without waking Mom. I wash my body and hands with a bit of reluctance, because that means erasing Onii-chan's lovely scent. Then I run to the kitchen, where I see him preparing his amazing breakfast, like he does every day. I don't know how he does it, but every dish, even with few ingredients, feels like a meal fit for the gods.
However, he's not allowed to eat it. He can only have milk and a piece of bread. Something my parents only "let" him have because, according to them, that's more than enough for someone born quirkless and lucky to even have a roof over his head.
He serves the plates on the table and takes his own to the living room, far from us. Mom always says she doesn't want to "see the face of garbage." That attitude disgusts me even more.
I always ask Onii-chan to make a little more food for me. Not just because I love it, but so I can leave him something before Mom wakes up. Parting with such a delicious dish hurts, but he also has the right to taste his own cooking. Sometimes I think, in another life, he must have been the gods' personal chef. Funny, right?
While we eat in our respective places, I see Mom arrive at the table. As always, she's impeccably dressed, wearing one of her elegant outfits that gives off a provocative air. She's a superficial and manipulative woman, always getting what she wants from others—especially from men.
Onii-chan served breakfast with his usual calm, expecting nothing in return. Mom looked at him with disdain before taking a bite of the food. She made a face of disgust.
—It's missing salt —she said with contempt.
But I know she says that just to humiliate him, because she keeps eating eagerly. Her plate ends up more empty than mine. There's nothing to criticize—the food is delicious.
—Well, sweetie, today's Friday... And, you know what? Your father sent a generous amount of money, so we're going shopping! —she exclaims with excitement.
The idea doesn't excite me much. I already have too many clothes in my closet—even some I don't even wear. But to avoid making her angry, I faked a look of pure joy, one she completely believes.
—Yes, we'll have so much fun, sweetie... but you, you worthless quirkless trash —she said, pointing at Onii-chan with disgust—, this house better be spotless by the time we get back. I don't want my clothes ruined by the filthy air you create just by existing.
—But, Mrs. Inko, I already cleaned the house first thing yesterday, and with the time I take to get back from school, I won't have enough time to do it all again —Onii-chan replied calmly, not a trace of anger in his voice.
—That's not my problem. Oh, and I checked your room the other day. Hiding money, were you? I should starve you for two days because of that, but since I'm so generous, I'll just take it for myself. You should be grateful.
My stomach turns. He earned that money through his own effort, and she just takes it as if she had every right. Mom doesn't care about what Onii-chan does or wants; all she cares about is me becoming a great hero so the family gains fame.
I like the affection my parents give me, but seeing how they push Onii-chan further and further away makes me sad. Sometimes I wish I could leave this family, but I still hold on to hope that one day they'll realize their mistake and love him as much as they love me. Then we could be a happy family, like when we were four.
—It's fine, Mrs. Inko. I'll accept it gladly. Well, I'm off now. I don't want to be late and get in trouble with the teacher —says Onii-chan with a smile.
—Good. I don't want people seeing you next to my beautiful daughter. NOW GET LOST! —Mom yells.
He picks up his things, cleans up the mess we made, and leaves. But before going, he winks at me, with that signature look of his. I know exactly what it means.
I finish breakfast, get ready, and put on my uniform. I say goodbye to Mom and head out to catch a taxi so I can get to school quickly. But before that, I stop at the corner where Onii-chan always waits for me, just like always, so we can walk to school together.
End of narration.
֎֎֎
At school, before the teacher arrived, all the students were chatting excitedly about what they would do after graduation. Obviously, most of them talked about becoming heroes—what else could you expect? Some had already decided on their hero names, others were discussing which school to attend to boost their prestige. Everyone was excited... everyone except Izuku.
While the others buzzed with dreams of the future, he simply continued writing in his notebook, disconnected from the world around him. He wasn't interested in their conversations or their dreams. He just wrote and sketched, completely immersed in his own world.
Suddenly, Izumi appeared behind him, leaning slightly to peek at his notebook with curiosity. Izuku noticed, but let her look—he enjoyed her company.
—Onii-chan, I know you like writing and taking notes about heroes, but... is it really necessary to do it in so many languages? I can tell some of it's in English and Spanish, but I only know the basics. The rest… I have no idea what it says.
Izuku smiled with pride. It was good that she was paying attention.
—Then I'm doing it right. It's better to have a few advantages when it comes time to fight someone with a quirk. In my circumstances, it's best to strike first if I want to win. Although… who knows, maybe this counts as cheating, knowing their weaknesses. But oh well, what can you do?
—Still writing crap, Deku? —interrupted Bakugo's mocking voice as he snatched the notebook with ease. He flipped through it with disinterest, trying to read it, but frowned when he couldn't understand anything—. Tch, just garbage. Info you can find online and some scribbles. What a waste of a notebook.
Izuku looked at him calmly, showing not the slightest sign of annoyance.
—Ah, "Bakugo", seriously… you really can't control yourself. But tell me something—how can you call it garbage if you can't even read it? When you learn Classical Latin, advanced English, and Royal Academy-level Spanish, then you can insult it all you want. Until then… —with a swift and fluid motion, he snatched the notebook back effortlessly, leaving Bakugo stunned—. Just keep shouting that you're the best. That's the only thing you're actually good at.
That comment made Bakugo's rage boil over. His eyes sparked with fury, and his hands were already lit with explosions. He couldn't stand that attitude. He couldn't stand that damned calm. With a snap, an explosion echoed across Izuku's desk, startling Izumi, but the older Midoriya didn't even flinch. His expression didn't change at all. That only made Bakugo even angrier as he kept glaring.
—"SO WHAT, DEKU?!" It's crap no matter how you look at it! It's garbage—better to get rid of it, don't you think?
Blinded by rage, Bakugo lunged at the notebook with the intent to blow it to pieces. But Izuku, having anticipated the move, moved it away with ease. Bakugo tried again... and missed. Again... and missed once more.
The twitch in his left eye betrayed his growing frustration. His explosions became more aggressive, his muscles tensing with pure, boiling anger.
—"STOP MESSING AROUND, DEKU!!" —he roared, losing his patience.
He propelled himself forward with his explosions and threw a punch straight at Izuku's face, determined to shatter his calm. Izuku didn't move—he waited for the blow. But just before it landed, a flaming hand blocked the attack firmly.
—"Calm down, Kacchan!"
Izumi had stepped between them. Her expression was deadly serious, her gaze locked onto Bakugo with unwavering determination. Her posture was rigid and authoritative. She stood like a true leader—one that would not tolerate any disobedience.
She shoved him back firmly, making it clear she wouldn't let him go any further.
—"I know you're not dumb enough to start a fight that could cost you your shot at U.A." —she continued with that same commanding tone—. "As the class representative, I order you to cut the tantrums and CALM DOWN! Unless you want me to report you to the school."
She didn't blink or look away. Her tone was sharp and absolute.
Bakugo was breathing heavily, fists trembling with barely contained rage. Sparks still crackled in his palms, ready to ignite. You could see he wanted to hit her—lash out at someone. But he didn't. Because, no matter how much it pissed him off, Izumi was right. He knew when a fight wasn't worth it—especially if he wanted to keep his reputation intact at U.A.
He snorted with contempt and turned halfway around, walking back to his seat.
—Whatever —he growled—. Next time, Deku, I'll make you pay. I still can't stand that you saved me, damn Deku bastard!
His followers followed him without question, leaving the atmosphere charged with his repressed fury.
Izumi sighed, relaxing her posture. Izuku, for his part, calmly put away his notebook as if nothing had happened.
—Well, that was interesting. —He murmured, with a slight smile.
Izumi glanced at him sideways, still with anger on her face.
—Sometimes it bothers me how calm you are.
—And sometimes I'm surprised at how serious you can be.
They remained silent for a moment before letting out a light laugh. The tension at that moment began to fade.
—Hahaha, it seems you can calm the beast with words, little sister —Izuku commented with amusement.
—He's a narcissistic jerk who only thinks about his explosions. I'd beat him if I wanted to with my pyrokinetic quirk —Izumi replied with annoyance.
Izumi's quirk, an emitter type, allowed her to expel fire from any part of her body and manipulate it at will, giving it different shapes according to her imagination. It wasn't an overwhelming ability, but it was effective enough to stand up to someone like Bakugo. Izuku found the idea of his little sister having a rival amusing.
—But a jerk you like —Izuku added with a teasing smile.
—NO WAY!!! —Izumi exclaimed immediately—. Just because we were friends as kids doesn't mean I like him. Over the years he's become a jerk, and that annoys me a lot, especially how he treats you.
—Alright, alright, I was just saying it for the sake of saying it. Still, thanks for helping me. I don't know what would have happened if this had ended in a massacre for me —Izuku replied calmly.
—It's nothing, I just didn't want you to leave Kacchan stuck in the wall again like last time —Izumi joked.
—Pfft… That time he tripped over my foot and went right through the wall. Only his legs and torso were visible. Not even his explosions could get him out of there. Hahaha —Izuku said with a slight laugh.
They both chuckled quietly remembering the incident, while Bakugo watched them with obvious irritation from his place.
The rest of the day passed without incident. The teacher arrived, the day went on normally, and finally, classes ended. The students left the classroom with relief. Izuku and Izumi walked together to their neighborhood, chatting without hurry. Before getting home, as always, they separated and entered at different times to avoid problems. Izumi felt sadness because of her mother's disdain, but Izuku didn't give it much importance. At the end of the day, at least he had a roof to sleep under. Something is better than nothing.
֎֎֎
It was already early weekend morning. All Might, also known as Toshinori, along with Izuku, were at the Dagoba municipal beach, starting the training that Toshinori had promised Izuku to make him stronger.
The Dagoba municipal beach was a place where waste was illegally dumped. Toshinori considered this site appropriate to begin Izuku's training, teaching him the principles of being a hero and preparing his body for his future Quirk… However, he was greatly surprised when Izuku, without even breaking a sweat, lifted a refrigerator and removed it from the beach effortlessly in a single attempt.
Toshinori only told him to start moving the trash, expecting the young man to hesitate or ask the reason behind the exercise. But Izuku said nothing, he simply obeyed. Toshi thought it was excessive confidence and that he would soon have to explain that this activity had a purpose… What a big mistake he had made.
What surprised him the most was not Izuku's strength, but the moment the boy took off his sweatshirt jacket to get more comfortable. In doing so, he revealed a sculpted body, with well-defined, compact muscles so impressive that Toshi's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. If it weren't for his usually muscular appearance, anyone would have noticed his disbelief. Wasn't Izuku supposed to be a skinny, agile kid?
—Young Midoriya! How the heck did you sculpt that body?! You look like an Olympic god! —exclaimed Toshinori, still wide-eyed, unable to look away even for a second—. I didn't even have that physique at your age. What the hell happened to you?
—Oh, this? —answered Izuku nonchalantly while flexing his biceps, making his muscles stand out even more—. Well, sensei… When I was four years old, I was diagnosed as Quirkless. I wasn't going to sit around doing nothing, so I trained for ten years to make up for it. It's not a big deal.
—Not a big deal? You practically have the perfect body to receive my Quirk! You're ideal… What kind of training did you do?
Izuku smiled and, suddenly, his expression turned serious. He stared at Toshinori with an intensity that caught him by surprise.
—Well… 100 PUSH-UPS..., 100 SQUATS...! AND 100 SIT-UPS... THEN RUN 10 KILOMETERS AND DO IT EVERY DAY!!!
Silence took over the atmosphere. Toshi didn't know how to respond right away. The tension only broke when, with a deep sigh of disbelief, he transformed into his skeletal form, surprising Izuku for a moment.
—Young Midoriya… —he said with suspicious calm, with no trace of anger in his voice—. I've seen that anime many times already. They used to play it a lot back in my day… So if the next thing you say is that you broke your "limiter," I swear by all that's sacred I'm leaving right now. Got it?
—Wow, you can't handle a simple joke. How delicate you are… —Izuku joked, pouting slightly, ignoring Toshinori's growing frustration.
The hero sighed with resignation before pointing to the trash scattered on the beach.
—Well… Either way, you'll have to clean up the beach. This will prove how capable your body really is to receive my Quirk. So… LET'S TRAIN, YOUNG MIDORIYA!!
—Yes, sir! —Izuku answered firmly, ready to begin.
As the days passed, Toshinori watched in amazement as Izuku cleaned the beach with almost superhuman strength and agility. He moved debris like it was nothing and exercised his muscles with a strict routine he followed rigorously. For a moment, Toshinori almost believed that training with that bald guy had actually worked.
At first, his intention was to give Izuku a specific training routine, but he changed his mind. Instead, he decided to closely observe what Izuku had been doing for years. He wanted to know what kind of effort had gone into achieving such detailed and compact musculature.
Over time, Toshinori realized that Izuku was keeping many secrets. He didn't know what kind of diet Izuku followed to maintain his physique, and every time he asked about his family, the young man dodged the topic with vague answers like, "I have a loving family," without mentioning anyone in particular. However, what caught his attention most was that, no matter how hot it got or how much he sweated, Izuku never took off his shirt. It seemed like he was hiding something on his skin, keeping any curious eyes away.
Despite everything, Toshinori decided not to pressure him. Izuku was a good kid, and if he preferred to keep certain things secret, that was his choice. Sooner or later, when he felt more comfortable, he would reveal the truth on his own.
֎֎֎
Three months later...
֎֎֎
The beach was completely clean. Toshinori still couldn't believe it.
—Jeez, you really surprised me, young Izuku! —he exclaimed, disbelief in his eyes—. You truly are amazing.
—Well… what can I say? I'm good at heavy work. I could even work in moving… I heard they pay really well for special jobs. Haha —Izuku joked with a light laugh.
Toshinori smiled and nodded with satisfaction.
—Young Izuku, you have proven your worth, and for that, I want to congratulate you. With great joy… —he paused, pulling a lock of his own hair and holding it between his fingers— I will give you my Quirk.
Izuku watched with interest as Toshinori continued.
—A wise person once told me that the difference between getting something by luck and working hard to earn it is the pride of having achieved it with your own sweat… So, with great happiness, I tell you: the Quirk is yours. —He extended the lock of hair— Now, swallow it.
An awkward silence settled. Only the flapping and cries of birds on the horizon filled the air. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything… until Izuku broke the ice with a smile.
—Wow… your Quirk is transmitted through DNA! Well, that makes sense since Quirks are tied to a person's physiology and genetics… But here's a problem with transmission. If someone finds this out, they could easily steal your power just by getting a hair or some fluid, like saliva or nails. Unless… it can only be transferred by the will of the holder. That would be an effective form of protection… So… —Izuku couldn't finish because Toshi quickly covered his mouth, unable to hold it in any longer…
—Young Midoriya… thanks for the explanation! But please… come back to this world and SHUT UP! Thanks.
Izuku let out an awkward chuckle while scratching his head.
—Sorry, Mr. Toshinori… I just got excited. Haha…
Toshinori sighed tiredly and rubbed his forehead, trying to calm down.
—Alright… now, eat the hair and let's finish this. It's not fun anymore.
Without hesitation, Izuku took the hair and swallowed it immediately. For a few seconds, nothing happened… but suddenly, something changed.
Toshinori felt a brutal surge of energy that made his knees give out, and he fell heavily to the ground. His body trembled. A chilling cold shivered down his spine as his vision began to distort. His sight blurred. He couldn't see anything clearly, only a dark silhouette in front of him… He sensed it was Izuku, as a rough, distorted voice asked if he was okay.
Then he saw it.
Behind Izuku, eight shadows rose, swaying unnaturally, devouring the light. But one… one was different. Bigger, more real, with a cracked white mask and two black eyes that pierced him with their empty stare.
The temperature dropped sharply. The ground seemed to vibrate, and a monstrous pressure took hold of the atmosphere, squeezing Toshinori's chest until breathing became difficult. His heartbeat pounded in his ears when suddenly, he felt unbearable pain. As if his blood turned into boiling lava, burning him from the inside. He tried to move, but his body was paralyzed, trapped in a primal terror he had never experienced before.
And then, the masked shadow leaned toward him. Two completely black, shiny, unnatural eyes looked at him more closely.
A chill ran down his spine as a huge cracked smile appeared on that mask, and with a voice that echoed directly in his mind, it whispered:
—Have you seen me? What a shame… Don't worry. You'll have your embers for a while, but your Quirk is mine now. I will reset it for my own benefit. Thanks for everything… Toshinori Yagi.
The other shadows were absorbed into its being and, in an instant, Toshinori felt something tear inside him. Something essential, something he should never have lost.
He wanted to scream… but he couldn't. Only calm remained.
֎֎֎
Izuku was walking home, lost in thought. He already had what he needed, but he was worried about what Toshinori-sensei had seen. Fortunately, when he woke up, he remembered nothing… He thought he had simply fainted, maybe because of the Quirk transfer or the injury that had left him so weak.
But that no longer mattered. The next step had to begin… though first, he had a promise to keep that day. Like every weekend, to an old friend.
When he got home, he made sure the house was empty. Mrs. Inko and his sister were still out shopping, which gave him enough time to prepare. He took a shower, changed his sweatshirt for a fancy suit, and put on some dark gloves. He was ready.
Before heading to his destination, he made a stop at his usual flower shop to buy a bouquet of Rindou, his favorite flowers. He also passed by a candy store and bought the chocolates he loved so much, made with the same traditional recipe as always.
The trip was long, but he finally arrived at his destination: a psychiatric hospital.
At the reception, they recognized him instantly and let him through without any trouble. He climbed the stairs to the indicated room, where he paused for a moment to adjust his tie and take a deep breath. His heart beat with slight anxiety.
He knocked on the door with a rhythmic melody, a code only she knew.
—You may come in… —a cheerful voice responded from inside.
Izuku entered carefully and was greeted by a woman who always brought a strange warmth to his heart. She was 42 years old, though she looked like she was 30, with snow-white hair, long and silky, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. Her skin was pale, almost ethereal, with a slight rosy tint on her cheeks that gave her a delicate air. Her eyes, a dull grayish-brown, reflected a nostalgic warmth, as if she were always remembering something far away.
She wore a simple lavender wool sweater, a bit loose, paired with a long pearl-colored skirt that brushed her ankles. Despite the simplicity of her clothes, she had a natural elegance, as if fragility and grace were part of her essence.
Next to her, on a small table, rested a small vase with a bouquet of wilted Rindou, the ones Izuku had brought her last week.
—Hello, my dear Izuku-kun. Punctual, as always. —she said, her voice always reflecting the joy of his visits.
Izuku gave a flawless smile and bowed elegantly.
—Hello, Rei-chan, my dear snowflake. As always, I have kept my promise.
The white-haired woman accepted his gesture calmly, looking at him with the same affection as always. To her, her fallen guardian angel had returned once again.
END of chapter 2.