Once upon a time, there lived a young man, plain as could be. His green curls were messy, often falling into his acid green eyes, and his face didn't seem to lose that last bit of baby fat. He dreamed of a world where heroes existed, where people had special powers as unique as the person who wielded it. In this world he dreamed, he was a hero, the successor to the greatest hero. He had friends who cared for him as himself and didn't judge if he messed anything up. His best friend was he greatest rival, always pushing him to be better. None of their faces were clear to him and the man felt as if he was longing for something he didn't know he was missing. To cope with the sudden longing, he turned to writing. His dreams became stories for children, a world of myth and fantasy. As he grew up, there was a sense of something missing as he wrote. He had few he could rely on, isolated by his muttering in his youth and the damage done to his brain from the attacks, leading to sudden fits of rage and depression. Therapists tried to figure out what was wrong, but none of what they could figure out what he needed or why he coped the way he did. The man lived a lonely life but he had his words, even when in his isolation has caused him to forget how they were spoken from lack of human interaction. Little did he know, the world that was just a dream away, just out of reach to a mere human like him, was real and he would be the one to change its fate with his words, spoken after years of silence.

Izuku Midoriya spent a good majority of his time in front of his laptop, typing out the world he saw behind his eyelids at night, after years of dreamless nights from the attacks. He couldn't pin point the exact start to his dreams, but he was grateful for them. Before they started, he felt as if he existed outside of time, just an entity floating along side time, barely being there. His parents split when he was young, leaving him with a broken mother and no father to help when the attacks happened. Izuku knew he should have done something so his mother hadn't thought the attacks were her fault but often his brain hurt from trying to remember anything around that time. At least she was happy with his step-father, Toshinori Yagi, who was the lead detective on his case during the attacks. Izuku learned about their marriage a year after he was released from the hospital, still halfway in his own head, but was glad that his mother had someone else to help her around the house. As much as he loved his parents, Izuku knew that they couldn't understand his changed world view. The best they could do for him is help him through his fits, and comfort him when he apologized for the events when he was clear of head again.

His phone beeped, signifying a text from his anti-tech savvy step-father.

Step-Dad: I'm in need of your assistance, young Izuku.

Green Mess: with what exactly do you need my assistance for?

Step-Dad: I have no idea what to get your mother for our anniversary. It has been almost ten years together and I feel as if I am hitting a road block.

Green Mess: i can't tell you what to do. or get. however, she has been stressed lately, so i think she would appreciate something relaxing.

Green Mess: anything else needed?

Step-Dad: Not at the moment.

Step-Dad: I'll shall contact you further if more assistance is required, young Izuku.

Green Mess: you text way to formally

Green Mess: and you dont have to put young in from of my name

Izuku rolled his eyes at his step-father's antics, it was the same for every anniversary, Christmas, Valentine's day, and any other time he could think to spoil his family. Saving the document, Izuku shut down his laptop when he noticed the time. It was approaching midnight and Izuku had somewhere else to be in the morning.

When he awoke the next morning, he was not where he fell asleep.