A few days ago my neighbor reproached me for the lack of care about the tomb of Dekinai, my useless, Quirkless son.

I'd go and explain to that middle-aged woman what a disappointment was that artless man, who committed suicide when he was just twenty-seven because he was rejected by a girl.

I put a hand on my face and sigh, remembering my boy's unattractive features, his lack of Uniqueness and his soft, lazy and slobbering character, prone to whimpering.

Dekinai was as thin as an anchovy and had light brown hair, and one day he returned home with a distracted air, saying that he had a crush on a university friend. He was twenty years old.

I had been a widower for twelve years, and I thought it would have been nice to cheer my table up with a young and fresh presence, so I suggested to invite her to lunch one Sunday.

Once Kanbi -this is how the girl is called- came to my house I immediately realized how things were, and that she had been brought there with deception and my son was a great bullshit artist.

She moved around uncomfortably, trying not to look unpleasant, but in her hazel eyes she harbored a strong will to escape.

Kanbi was very pretty, with curly and dark brown hair, stately clothes and a necklace with a gold cameo.

However... every now and then her eyes darted with hatred on my son, and those piercing blade-like looks didn't fit very much with her image of antique girl. While serving the soba I wondered what kind of relationship those two had, but I forced myself not to go into rough terrain.

I soon discovered that my son was much worse than I thought, and that he would had really stepped in it...

Dekinai had got Kanbi drunk during a birthday party, betraying her by putting alcohol in her glass, and when she had been too buzzed to understand anything, he had abused of her.

The student had become pregnant, but hadn't wanted to have anything to do with the child, and to avoid a scandal my son and I agreed to pay her a large sum of money for moral damages, in addition to keeping the baby with us.

All of this because he hadn't accepted Kanbi's rejection of a relationship, so he had taken that carnal pleasure by force, foolishly hoping that with the discovery of pregnancy she would had surrendered to marriage. What a nitwit son.

Later, Kanbi had moved abroad and we had heard nothing from her.

Dekinai was in despair, dragging himself in slippers from one room to another, staggering like a zombie and neglecting his medical studies. He should have succeeded me at Tsubasa clinic, but I would have gladly done without such an element, even though he was my son.

Komori was a chubby and happy child, with sparse brown hair, black eyes and two giant bat wings on his back, inherited from his mother, who had them similar to those of a dragon.

His father never really met him, he grew up with me, because Dekinai thought of Kanbi, he didn't care about his son. He would have cared about his son if that brunette had been with him, and that's it.

I changed diapers, I washed wings, I cooked baby food, wondering every day how much that torture would had lasted, with an inane son and a grandson who shouldn't have existed.

Fortunately I had my master, he gave me strength with his wisdom.

On Komori's sixth birthday, his father went into an ethyl coma.

During the party, smashing on cocktails. Fortunately, he had the decency to hide in the bathroom, far from the eyes of the other parents and children who came to celebrate my grandson.

He, who had raped the mother of his son through drunkenness, had perished with his own weapon.

His weakness disgusted me, I felt I no longer loved him. Perhaps I had never really loved that colorless son, spoiled by his mother.

In front of me right now is my grandson's childhood friend, the most ironic of all, the son of my boss.

He has just asked me how I could, right after his father's death, force Komori to exhausting experiments and training to receive more Quirks, with the sole result of seeing his conscience fade under the form of a Nomu.

"The child of a rape is not worth like a child born of love... don't you think? Komori wouldn't have existed under normal conditions... at least he was useful, unlike his father..."

I see the boy startling, shaken by my brutality.

"You're a monster... I can't believe my mother chose you as my pediatrician."

"Oh, I'm your father's friend, you know?"

"My father is ALL MIGHT." he replies firmly.

"Oh yes, the classic tale of blood ties that don't count. Well, boy... no matter how hard you try, reality will not change and you will always share the same DNA as All for One... better if you start making peace with this idea."

"That man is not worthy of being called a father!"

"He could have killed you once he discovered your lack of Uniqueness... instead he left you alive and didn't involve you in his plans."

"He and his League of Villains have ALWAYS tried to kill me!"

I get up. The chair in my office creaks during that action.

Even my patience is creaking.

"Go away, Izuku Midoriya, go away and take that other friend of Komori, the blond and unbearable one, with you."

All Might's protégé is about to leave my studio, the one he visited often as a child, but he turns and squints.

"Komori died because of you."

"You are wrong. It was Chizome Akaguro who killed him."

I get a little closer.

"Indeed... you have been the cause of his passing. On the other hand, the Hero Killer has taken a liking on you and killed him to save you."

I see the shining of tears making their way into the green eyes of that boy so similar and so different from my lord.

He leaves in silence, without saying another word.

For my part, I feel no remorse for what I did: I don't miss Dekinai, I don't miss Komori.

Finally I can stay in contact with useful people, who don't hinder me.

Finally I can dedicate myself to the science that appeals me, the one without ethics or scruples.

Finally I have been able to fulfill my dream.