This is gonna look familiar, but it's not going to keep doing that.

You'll see. -Black

Snow was falling, leaving the countryside and all places the plows couldn't reach blanketed in the white, powdery precipitation. It gave the illusion of peace, for precious seconds if you could ignore the ambience of the city. In all hours of the day, sun up or sun down, sirens could be heard blaring throughout. Five years had come and gone, since that dreaded day at UA when things had gone so horribly wrong. Both for a trio of teenagers and their loved ones along with the world. That isn't where our story begins however; it begins on this snowy night, in the year 2256, December 24th.

Taking advantage of the slick streets, a trio of men had seen fit to commit a deed most nefarious. Despite a child's screaming mother, leaving her husband bloodied on the floor of their home. The child was wrested away, torn from her parents and taken into the night. Binding and gagging the poor little thing, they made use of back alleys, slinking toward their hideaway in one of the seedier parts of town.

Through a broken window and into an abandoned warehouse, the three of them snickered among themselves. Talk of ransom was thrown about casually, perhaps they'd sell the young thing to the highest bidder. Someone on the black market had to have a use for a child like her, or a client that would. While the argued, trying to figure what would set them up for life for the fastest, the child trembled on the floor.

When a something flew through the window, fast as a bullet, and the electric lantern shattered? Then the thugs stopped chattering.

"This is your one chance." Said an altogether light voice, soft on the ears. "Return her to her family, leave this life behind you and all will be forgotten."

The leader laughed. "Nice try, punk. If you had what it took to take us out? You'd have just done it by now. I know how heroes work."

The other voice chuckled. "Whoever said I was a hero?"

Then, faster than snapping fingers, a blur of motion so fast the human eye couldn't possibly hope to keep up sent the leader flying through the far wall. Dropped to their knees, the owner of that voice swung their leg around and robbed the remaining two of their footing. While they were in free fall, their assailant's palms struck the backs of their heads.

All three men now lay unconscious, and this shadowy figure stood and walked to the child. "It's alright now." They walked with a limp, hissing in pain through their teeth. "You're safe, nothing bad is going to happen to you."

Bindings undone, gag removed, the child looked up at them. She couldn't see who they were, just their faint outline. All the same, the little girl hugged her savior, and they slowly, but surely, returned the gesture. "I was so scared..." her little fingers clutched at their clothes, face pressed firmly against their shoulder.

"That's okay." They said softly. "It's okay to be scared."

She sniffled, leaning back to try and get a good look at them. "Are you a hero?"

Heroes, police with super powers and some of the richest people in the world if their powers were strong and public appearances were clean enough. She wasn't sure about this person, but they had an answer which made her even more uncertain. "No." And they started carrying her away.

She shrunk into his arms, suddenly feeling a bit more afraid. "Then why are you saving me?"

They laughed, petting her little head. "Because that's why my hero would do."

Smiling, she nestled into his arms as he neared the front door. "What's your name?"

The light reached through the windows, draping over her savior. He was covered head to toe in black. A tattered hoodie that reached his elbows, the hems thready and sleeves and body littered with holes. Black bandages covered his arms, right down to his fingertips and he had on gloves with padding over the knuckles. Worn gloves that looked like they'd been used to punch many, many people. Even his face was similarly covered in total by a tight mask, a pair of goggles obscuring his eyes with the hood pulled up over both.

Baggy cargo pants with pockets that seemed filled, likely with gadgets or other things he needed. Combat boots that were worn at the toes, exposing the steel hiding within, in a few places. Under his baggier clothing articles was skin-tight thermal wear, meant to keep him warm, but she couldn't see that. Even under the mask, she could see him smile. "I don't have one."

"Oh..." she decided to stop asking questions.

He was about to push the door open when his hand suddenly stopped. Voices, a lot of footsteps drawing closer to the building. "Little one?" he said, "I'm going to put upstairs now."

Before she even had time to ask his body moved like a hurricane. She blinked and she was up at the top floor, place carefully on the ground like a fragile treasure and when she blinked again, he was gone. Even from so high up, trying not to listen, she heard the sounds of fighting. Frantic motions, quirks being used to tear the building apart, people being thrown about and their bones broken to pulp. Screaming, yelling, swearing gunfire.

Down below, the non-hero was fighting for his life. Nine people against one, and not one of these guys had a weak quirk. Three with strength quirks, two who's limbs mutated and grew with their every use. Two hardening quirks, one who's skin turned to something resembling bricks and other who looked like mountain come to life. One who could control air currents, sucking the air out his lungs as soon as the fight started. Three powerless people with guns -who'd been subdued already- and a woman who's entire body was encased in ice.

The non-hero was fighting without air to breathe, and was desperate to turn the tables on this fight. His fist flew forward, colliding with one of the strength users' heads, one down, but the other two grabbed him with their oversized hands and started squeezing for all their worth. While the air thief snickered, the ice golem started punching his head repeatedly.

"Piece of cake..." The air thief shook his head, not noticing the sparks of green, electric light forming around their enemy's legs.

One swift motion and a hurricane sent the air thief and the hardening duo through the wall and door they'd come in from. Twisting his midsection around, the non-hero threw those who grappled him loose and brought them careening together with a loud crunch. A pair of cracked skulls and seven broken bones between the two men, and he brought his fist back to throw a haymaker at the ice-woman.

The ice around her shattered in a blinding display of green light and rushing air, sending her crashing through another window. By the time the air thief and the two thugs hardening with hardening skin were standing, he was already on them. One kick to one's head, an elbow to the other and a punch the the air thief that just about broke his back against the wall of the closest building, then it was over.

Gasping for breath, falling to one side, the non-hero clutched at his right leg. Hissing in and out with every breath, he was slow to start moving again and started walking back inside. Just a few moments later and he was upstairs, looking for a trembling, hiding child. "It's safe." She ran right up to him, arms clinging to his middle and face buried against his abdomen. He managed to level out his breathing, then scoop her up. "I've got you..."

Back outside again, he limped to the street where a trio of police cars came to greet them. Police swarmed out of the cars as the non-hero leapt into the alley for cover. "Come out with your hands up!" One shouted. "We're only here to save the girl!"

"why are you hiding?" The girl whispered."

He was panting, one hand clutching at his leg. "Because I'm not a hero." He answered gently. "That makes me a criminal... using my quirk, my powers to save you."

She puffed up her cheeks. "That's dumb!" then she hugged him fiercely. "You saved me... they should be calling you a hero!"

Under his mask, he smiled again but the police were next to speak. "We'll say again: come out, give us the girl!"

Slowly, he put her on her feet and patted her little head. "They're going to take you home now, okay?"

She nodded, letting go and backing away from him. "What's gonna happen to you?"

He put a finger to his lips. "I'm gonna vanish." She giggled. "but don't worry, I'll still be out there in case the bad guys come back."

When she nodded, a flash of green light coiled around his body and he sprung into the air. Moving faster than some projectile weapons, he did exactly what he'd said, vanishing into the night. Smiling, waving goodbye, the little girl ran to the police. Miles across the city, some minutes later, he crashed into a snowy alleyway with shaking legs and hands. Pulling a small bag out from a hiding place behind a dumpster, he pulled a small vial of pills from the bag and tore off his mask, opening the bottle.

After dry swallowing a handful of the pills, he fell back, spine against the wall and massaged his aching right leg. A chattering jaw, icy vapor every time he exhaled and the dim light from beyond the alleyway were all that gave him away. Lucky no one was there to see him, with his freckled face and messy green hair so plainly on display. After the pain in his leg faded to tolerable levels, he started clawing his way out of his disguise.

Back into civilian clothes, thermals left on beneath, Izuku Midoriya pulled his cane from behind the dumpster and started hobbling away. If he didn't get to sleep soon, he'd be completely unfit for tomorrow's shift, and it was probably going to be busy.

Always was, these days.

"Leave him alone, Kacchan!" A scrawny child, a boy no older than five, stood between a fiery-blond haired boy and the child he'd been fighting. Fists raised and shaking he was the lone barrier between the other child and his prey. Katsuki, the fiery blond in question, stood there, glaring him down.

"And what are you gonna do to stop me, Deku?" he outstretched a hand, to his side and let an explosion pop forth from his palm and The younger boy flinched at the display. "Without a quirk what can you do?"

Trembling, shifting his feet to sturdy his stance. "I- I wont let you hurt him again."

"Let me?" Katsuki growled, stepping closer to the trembling lad, all hints of a smile gone from his face. "You," another pop, another flinch, "are a defenseless bug!" Hand outstretched he blasted away at the green haired boy sending him flying. He landed hard on the ground, now covered in soot and dirt. "Never forget that, Deku! Without a quirk you'll never be a hero!" Stomping away, Katsuki left the child on the ground, his little group of friends not far behind him.

While 'Deku' picked himself up off the ground, the child he'd been defending ran away. With a sniffle the beat up kid wiped his eyes and followed after the other kids. It... wasn't every day he had to stand up to his friend like that.

Humans live in a world where eighty percent of the population is born with super powers. Despite that being a recipe for disaster, the wild, wild west all over the globe, the human race has managed to survive. Thriving cities, well established law and order, heroes all over the globe who's activities are sanctioned by their various governments. All in all thanks to this miraculous series mutations the world spins on a better place than most have ever known. Crime, in spite of the world's super villains, is at an all time low, pollution is actively being combated and the plastic continents in the ocean are all but memories. Living at the top of all this splendor, reaping the rewards of the modern world to the fullest extent possible. "Rock stars of the future", so they've been called. These super powers, known as 'quirks' are as much a part of everyday life as breathing in this mad new world.

But there is a remaining twenty percent of the population born without these gifts. Sure, they can live normal lives, going through much the same motions as anyone else but with one exception: they live without the dream of ever being a hero.

When little Deku had first heard the words: "Sorry kid, it ain't gonna happen." It had crushed his little soul. All that followed, a conversation between his mother and the doctor he'd gone to see that day, slipped past the periphery of his senses. Like every child his age he'd seen heroes in action, looked up to them like nothing could be cooler. With every fiber of his being, for reasons he could never explain, he wanted to be hero. When that dream shattered so decisively it had shattered right along with him.

In school the following day Little Izuku ' Deku' Midoriya sat in the middle of the room, defeated, broken.

"Little freak is quirkless."

Another child laughed, "guess he's always gonna be defenseless little Deku." More laughter.

"Of course he is," little Katsuki boasted, showing off his quirk for the hundredth time that day, "compared to quirks like mine almost anyone is anyways!" the entire class cheered in agreement, all save for Izuku who stared brainlessly at the floor. "But Deku was born to be their mascot!" Laughter from all the students in the room, which the teacher did nothing to interrupt. The teachers never stepped in.

Truly, he was a cursed, useless thing and always would be.

...

What makes someone become a hero?

Origins, you say? Some tragic or inspiring event that pushes someone to do great things? Not all things 'great' are 'good' things. Not everyone who survives tragedy becomes someone worth being. For every hero inspired by an irreplaceable loss there is at least one villain or madman who shares that motivation.

We are not all born equal and thus, when we break, we do not break equally.

Take a plate and drop it on the floor. Memorize its shards, the shape of its destruction. Now drop a matching plate. Do the pieces match?

...

Falling. That's what he was doing, wasn't it? Limbs flailed, his lips moved to scream but he couldn't. This was it... the end of his life, falling off a tree into a river. But he wasn't alone. Someone had dove after him, caught him and was now holding themselves beneath him. Katsuki's eyes went wide, lips opened to scream 'no'.

Little bodies crashed into the river. A sickening crunch echoed down the stream as Katsuki's head wrenched back, submerged in the water. Pulling himself free in a panic he looked himself over. Covered in blood. So much red, pouring down the stream he was- ...unharmed. No pain anywhere. But that wasn't possible. Someone was bleeding into the river so much they had to be dead. His eyes found the source: a green haired lump of useless freckles.

"DEKU!" he lounged forward and pulled his head from the water, letting him breathe. The stupid kid's green eyes slowly moving to look into his. "Why?" he barely murmured, hand drifting down his back, seeing how bad- Oh god... The protrusions he felt, one day he would feel something else like it, realize what he'd touched in the stream and vomit.

Bones.

"Why'd you do it?" tears started streaming down his face. "WHY'D YOU SAVE ME, YOU IDIOT!?"

In a timid, trembling motion, his pale little hand reached up and touched Katsuki's face. "F..." he barely made a sound, "friend..." his eyes lolled to the back of his head as it dipped back toward the water.

"DEKU!" Katsuki screamed, the river still running red. "DEKU!" For what felt like hours he sat there screaming for help. Screaming for someone to come save him, to do something, to fix him. Eventually someone came.

Sirens.

Flashing lights.

Pain.

A mask over his face.

These were the sensations Izuku Midoriya was aware of before the world went black.

When they pulled his body from away from Katsuki he screamed no, for them not to take him away, to send him with that idiot.

But they didn't. They put him in a car and drove him home. It was like all sound vanished from the world when he arrived at home. His body ran, fighting the police trying to hold him back, firing his quirk at them he fought. He fought and he screamed trying to get to the kid who'd saved his life until he passed out.

It had all happened so fast.

In that moment Izuku had to do something.

If someone needed help, he always had to do something.

How he'd moved so quickly to shield Katsuki from the fall would forever remain a mystery. What resulted from the movements was not so gently unknown.

Izuku Midoriya was paralyzed.

EMTS had arriving on the scene found him half submerged in the tiny river. It was little more than a creek but it had been enough. While Izuko lay on his back, broken over the stones he'd shielded the other boy from, the running water had kept his blood from coagulating. Worse, it had washed most of it downstream as the child he'd saved screamed for help. These children couldn't have been older than four or five years old. One would live with psychological scars, the other would be lucky to live at all.

It was hard not to eavesdrop on the nearby conversations. Laying on his back, as he took in all that had happened to put the poor child where he was. Overhearing this child's story, his medical history, had instilled in him a sense of kinship for the little one. The injured man was also born without a quirk He looked at him, the supposedly quirk-less child. Small, almost a runt really. His face had an odd roundness to it, spotted with freckles. Green freckles that matched his disastrously messy hair. It was like someone had seen a cow-lick for the first time and said 'that shall be all of his hair'.

But that wasn't important. In the few minutes he'd shared the room with him the near-broken man had come to sympathize with the child. Whether he knew it or not: he was a hero. He'd saved another child's life and he'd given everything he could to do so. It was the kind of bravery you rarely saw from adults, never mind a child who was barely old enough for kindergarten. This kid had to make it.

Outside her son's room in the intensive care ward, Inko Midioriya's was arguing for her son's life.

"What do you mean he wont survive the surgery?!" She demanded, her trembling voice threatening to lurch into a shrill scream.

"He's already lost too much blood," the doctor managed to keep his voice level and calm, "if he tried to go in and correct the damage..." for a moment he faltered. Swallowing back the knot, the hopeless void in his throat, the doctor went on, "he'll bleed out."

Inko collapsed. Falling to the floor, hands covering her face, she wailed. Kneeling beside her was her husband. At least that's what the injured man assumed. He said... something. It was hard to hear but it sounded like he asking about a blood donor.

Sure enough that's what he'd said, "He's type O Negative." the doctor quietly replied.

"So?" the mother weakly demanded, "He's a universal donor can't you just give him anyone's blood?"

"It doesn't work that way..." the doctor's gaze shifted away for a moment, "while he can give his blood or any of his organs to anyone he can only get such a donation from another type O Negative."

The injured man's working fist clenched. This wasn't right. Or at the very least it wasn't fair. This child, this quirk-less wonder was capable of being a true hero; not one of those show-boaters in it for the fame or to 'be the best' like Endeavor but a true hero. Hell, even his own blood could go towards saving anyone on earth.

Who was his hero? Who was going to stand up and save Izuku?

Jaw clenching tighter than his fists ever had, the injured man sat up. Determination raged through his broken body like a wild-fire. He was here, so he would do something. The panicked look on the doctor's face was almost comical.

The injured man had managed to force his body to the doorway, "I'm..." his breath heaved as nearly every nearby nurse lounged to keep him from falling, "type... O Neg..." he was seeing stars, getting light headed and was on his way to the floor. His working arm slashed outwards and gripped the doorway. A loud snap echoes down the hall as his hand broke through his would-be support and he crashed his right side into the broken piece of architecture, "take... mine..."

The doctor lounged forward and actively held the injured man up, "This is no time for Heroics!" he urged, "If just standing up hasn't killed you, then losing more blood will! Now please, get back to bed mister Yag-"

He gripped the doctor's lab coat and pulled his face to his own. His blazing, black eyes burned themselves into the doctor's memory forever, "It's my life," he strained through gritting teeth, "and I'm giving it to this kid."

For such a frail, scrawny and so inured man he had strength. Inko watched him with widened eyes. His fierce resolve and ghastly, gaunt appearance were stark contrasts. Tall, thin beyond thin with a narrow almost featureless and pointy head. A large, spiky shock of wild, blonde hair made him look as though lighting were shooting from is skull. In spite of this he heart of this man was determined to be anything other than the ghoul he appeared to be.

"Get the damned surgeons read-" and his determination was rudely interrupted. Blood rocketed forth from his lips in a torrent, pooling around his feet all over the floor. As he fell the nurses eased him into a wheelchair, "You're saving him." he demanded weakly.

A few minutes later a form was signed. Two minutes after that Izuku Midoriya was hooked up to one of several IV bags he'd be using. Finally, nine hours later, he was recovering and looked to be on the mend.

The injured man watched as Izuku was carted to another room. He smiled. Unable to feel most of his body and yet he smiled. It would soon be his turn for surgery. As the mother, Inko walked into the room he was relieved to see her at ease, "Will he..." he wheezed, "walk?"

She nodded wiping away tears as she beamed at him. Tears of joy, "It's going to take years of physical therapy but he'll be able to live a normal life."

He closed his eyes, "Don't count him out yet," he felt himself passing out, "I have a hunch that he will be better off than that."

He felt lips on his forehead, kissing gently. Opening his eyes he saw her smiling at him as she backed away to leave the room. Moments before she crossed the door's threshold she turned around, "I... we never got your name."

He chuckled. Then he coughed. Lastly, he smiled, "It's Toshinori. Toshinori Yagi."

"Thank you for saving my son's life, Mister Toshinori Yagi." and like that, just as suddenly as she'd appeared in his life, she left.

Closing his eyes again Toshinori felt his limbs going cold. As far as 'last acts' went this was one he was content with. His injuries were beyond severe, it was more than likely that he was going to die here today.

"You'll be a hero, kid..." he breathed as his fingers went limp, "I'm sorry I couldn't ask for your permission first... but someone needs to inherit my power before I die." he smiled, "Use my quirk... young Midoriya."

As he was carted down the hall to prepped for surgery he caught sight of a TV. It was a news broadcast, covering an incident between a hero and a villain. Four entire city blocks had been ravaged in the chaos and luckily only one civilian had been harmed; one frail, ghoul-like civilian. Who was this hero? He was the greatest hero the world had ever known and he had an arduous task ahead of him. With a smile on his face he would battle against the strongest, the worst of the world's villains and triumph.

He was the world's symbol of peace, the world's greatest hero: All Might.

He was the civilian on his way to surgery.

...

Much of this, little Deku knew from simply being there. The rest he'd been told, at one point or another... enough that it all now haunted his dreams, even after 14 years or more. In truth... there were things about those days that he sorely missed, but he knew would never get back.

Then again, isn't that all a memory is?

Year one he was stuck in a wheel-chair. Any activity past the bare minimum threatened to damage his spinal chord irreparably. Years two through three he underwent vigorous physical therapy. Supported by crutches wrapped in several back-braces and held up by various physical therapists. Eventually he was able to use the crutches on his own.

Day one back to public school was beyond challenging. Walking was a nightmare. He had someone from the staff beside him constantly, making sure he didn't fall. He just wanted to be alone, to feel normal, not be babied. Katsuki Bakugo slamming his fists onto the desk in front of him and screaming was a welcome change of pace.

"You're supposed to be dead!" the spiky-blonde haired child shouted. The Teacher wasn't even in the room, so there was no one to even scold him.

"H-hi Kacchan..." Izuku said timidly, hoping this didn't escalate further.

"Is that all you have to say!?" Katsuki was still shouting, "You get yourself broken trying to help me, disappear for three years and that's it!?" to the rest of the class it seemed the ego-ridden 'Kacchan' had lost his mind. The entire room sat there, gaping at the screaming, super-powered child. Katsuki had the ability to create explosions. Powerful ones. If he was losing it they wanted to know how fast and far to run away,"I thought you were dead, you idiot!"

Izuku did his best to swallow his nerves and shook his head. After a very audible gulp he said, "Nope," did his best to grin and added, "just trying to get better." He seemed so optimistic, in spite of his nerves. If his spirits were this high Katsuki wasn't sure anything was capable of besting Izuku's hopeful disposition.

Katsuki was fuming with rage. Confusion and several emotions his eight-year-old brain didn't have names for overwhelmed his senses. His temper boiled over and then quietly fizzled out. Exhaling in a long, drained sigh he fell back into his seat, "Stupid, Deku..."

Using his crutches to get around was becoming easy. He'd had so much practice at this point it was like he'd never been stuck in that wheelchair. Katsuki was surprised at how fast he was. Recess was only just starting and all Izuku wanted to do was walk as much as he was allowed. That beaming smile on his face was unreal. He was broken, how could he be so happy?

"You're walking with me, Kacchan?" Izuku smiled at him. The idiot hadn't changed.

"I just had a question." he grumbled.

"What is it?" he wasn't even tired. From what Katsuki knew using crutches wasn't easy. Izuku wasn't even breaking a sweat. He had to walk faster than usual just to keep up with him.

"Why'd you do it?" Katsuki kicked a rock off the path as he spoke, venting some of his feelings at the stupid rock, "You didn't have to save me, ya know."

"What do you mean?" Now Izuku was confused, "Isn't what I did what you would have done, Kacchan?"

Katsuki stopped in his tracks.

"...Kacchan?" Izuku had to turn around. Katsuki was just standing there, fists and jaw clenched, shoulders shaking and he was staring at the ground. Izuku couldn't see his eyes but his teeth were grinding against each other. Had he upset him?

"You're damned right it's what I would have done!" Katuski shouted, "Because I'm gonna be a hero!" one of his hands flew to his chest, thumb jutting into his sternum, "I'm gonna graduate from UA at the top of the class and be the best hero ever!" his proclamation could likely be heard on the other side of the building, "And you!" pointing right at Izuku's face, his finger millimeters from his nose he continued bellowing, "You're gonna get better, show us what kind of weird quirk you have and be right there with me, you idiot!"

Izuku was speechless. He'd expected Katsuki to explode, pun intended he supposed, but he hadn't expected him to try and be nice. If what he was saying qualified as nice, anyways. In reply he just smiled and reached out his hand to Katsuki, "Deal."

Katsuki stared at Izuku's hand, bewildered. Then, rolling his eyes he shook it, "Yeah, yeah..." dropping Izuku's hand unceremoniously he started walking again, "Pick up the pace. You're not gonna get better just standing around, Deku."

"Right!" He nodded, following with his temperamental friend. Izuku, walking on crutches, beaming with hope and optimism. Katsuki, a kid with every reason to feel on top of the world glowering in contemptuous rage at literally everything. To say they were an odd pair was putting it mildly.

Driving home was, as usual, a drag. Whenever his feet were off the ground Izuku felt himself growing antsy. Now that he could move with something resembling freedom he wanted to do little else.

"Something wrong, Izuku?" His mom, always worrying about him. Izuku didn't mind, if anything it meant that she cared. It meant that she was still here, "You seemed so happy before we got on the road."

"I don't like sitting around is all..." Izuku admitted.

"Well if we stick with the regimens the physical therapists have you on you'll be running before you know it." She pumped her fist in the air, trying to seem excited, encouraging.

Izuku gave her a playfully skeptical look, "Yeah? Well you said the same thing three years ago." and he stuck his tongue out at her.

She gasped, pretending to be offended,"Yeah! well...look how far you've gotten," she stuck her tongue right back at him, "So there." Mother and son shared a laugh as they pulled into the driveway of their home. Izuku unhooked his seatbelt, opened the door and gingerly swung his legs around. Inko rushed to his door and helped him onto his crutches, "Be careful as we go in," she reminded him, "I haven't quite finished unpacking everything yet so watch the floor for cardboard boxes."

"Ok, mom."

Before they could begin walking to their own front door Izuku saw someone. He was just stepping up to the front door himself. Clad in a black suit, that was several sizes too large, and matching hat he looked like an overdressed scarecrow. As he was about to knock on the door of the Midoriya household he saw them. Blinking, they all stared at each other in silence for a moment. Clearing his throat he broke the uncomfortable silence, "Have I come at a bad time?"

Izuku blinked in surprise. That voice...

"Toshinori?" Inko asked, taking a single step toward him.

He nodded, "I uh," he took off his hat and held in front of his chest. He seemed quite timid for such a scary looking man. Scratching at the back of his own neck he continued, "just got out of the hospital. Wanted to see how young Midoriya was doing."

Izuku looked questioningly at his mother. She didn't offer an answer. Her next words only made him more curious, "Izuku should really be off his feet if he's not walking," she fumbled with her keys for a moment, "but you can come in." she smiled, "We can catch up. I can make tea or dinner or-"

"Really," Toshinori raised his hand, shaking it side to side, "I didn't come her to be pain, it was just to-"

"You saved my son's life," Inko's words made Izuku's eyebrows leap, "it's no trouble." as she opened the door she ushered Izuku inside.

Managing to kick off his shoes Izuku made his way to the couch. Easing himself onto it he winced. A slight twinge in his back, that muscle always hurt when he relaxed it. Sighing, both out of relief and boredom he eased back against the soft, pillowey sofa.

"Sit where ever you'd like," Inko said to Toshinori, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"If you're sure..." Toshinori seemed very out of his element. It made Izuku wonder what his own home-life must have been like.

As the suited man sat in the chair, opposite of Izuku, his face twisted into a grimace. Hand flying to his left side, gripping at his ribs he growled in pain, "Damn it..." he hissed.

"Are you okay?" Izuku asked, staring at the strange looking man. Black eyes with blue irises... something about that was familiar.

"heh," he adjusted his posture, leaning on his right side, "I'm supposed to ask you that."

"You said you just got out of the hospital," Izuku quietly pointed out, "if it still hurts shouldn't you go back?"

"Observant," Toshinori nodded, "no. This is never going to stop hurting. So, to answer your question, I'm as okay as I'm gonna get."

"oh..."

"What about you, kid?" he gestured at him with the hand that had been gripping at his side, "It's been three years and you're already moving mostly on your own. That's not too shabby."

"Yeah, the doctors thought I was going to be paralyzed, at least a little bit, forever," he was smiling again, "but I can already move my legs around a whole lot." In demonstration he moved them in small circles, using every joint and muscle in tandem. It wasn't much but to that kid it was everything.

"That's amazing," said Toshinori, "with the amount of damage your spinal chord took that shouldn't be possible, at least not yet."

Izuku blinked, "You know?"

The man nodded, "I was there before your surgery, kiddo."

"Wait..." Izuku's eyes widened a little, "You're the guy who gave me the blood for the transfusion?"

"You've got quite the vocabulary for an eight year old," Toshinori laughed, "Yeah. That was me. I'm glad you've recovered, young Midoriya."

Izuku's hands yanked his backpack over to himself. Tearing it open he fished around for something. Toshinori raised an eyebrow and blinked. Answering his curiosity Izuku handed him a large envelope, "I made it for you." he was smiling so wide Toshinori wondered if it was hurting his face, "I didn't know who you were... it doesn't have your name on it."

"That's okay, kid." Toshinori accepted the gift and put it to the side, "Thank you. I'll open after I get the chance to talk to your parents."

Izuku's spirit deflated. Looking away to solemnly stare at the floor he didn't look up when his mom entered the room, "Here's the tea." She chimed. Noticing Izuku's dejectedness she said, "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied through an immediate forced smile, "is it okay if I go to the porch? I wanna look at the stars..."

A look of comprehension hit Inko's features and she managed a sad smile, "Of course."

Toshinori was surprised at how easily Izuku stood up. Watching him use the crutches it almost looked like he was pretending to use them. After the child was outside he asked Inko, "Have I said something wrong?"

"What did you say?" she sat down and passed him a cup of tea.

"I just said there was something I wanted to talk to you and your husband about."

Her hand immediately froze. Teacup resting an inch from her face it was her turn to stare at the floor. It only lasted for a moment, that posture of hers, as she lowered her teacup she said, "He... his father isn't in the picture anymore."

Toshinori blinked, "What?"

She turned away, casting her gaze off into the distance, "Taking care of Izuku, dealing with everything that happened... it was more than he could take."

"He..." Toshinori blinked rapidly, "he just left his own...?" He turned and looked outside. Izuku was sitting, peering into a telescope that was clearly not meant for a child. The way he held it...

"You know what they say about marriages that lose a child," her ghost of a smile was back. She stared into her tea, idly stirring at it, "I guess it's the same thing when a child gets crippled too..."

Toshinori's fist gripped over his knee, "That's no excuse. That's exactly why he shoul-" seeing the pain on Inko's face stopped his speech. He wasn't saying anything she didn't know, that she needed to hear. At least not from him, "Sorry..." he rubbed at his eyes, "It's not my place to say anything about your family."

She nodded, "You're not wrong." was all she said.

For a long time silence hung over them.

"What was it?"

He blinked, "What was... what?"

"You wanted to talk to me about something?"

Toshinori sighed. Thinking about it for a moment he decided, "It concerns young Midoriya," that caught her attention, "it's about his future..." he looked her right in the eyes, "after I tell you I want to know when he should find out about the quirk that has been helping him heal."

After a time Izuku had been brought back inside by his mother and sat back down on the couch. He looked curiously at Toshinori. The man seemed nervous.

Taking a deep breath he began, "You should know that a normal person would not be able to recover as you have, young Midoriya."

Izuku cast his mother questioning look. She motioned back to Toshinori, indicating that he'd better listen.

"The reason you've been healing at all, as rapidly as you have been is because I gave you my quirk."

Izuku blinked, "What...?" he shook his head vigorously, "Wait, wait, wait, you gave me a quirk?" he didn't believe a word of it, "How? How is that even possible!? In all the research I've done about quirks I've never found anything like that! Unless..." he was babbling. A non-stop, analytical rant just emptied from Izuku's mouth. It was an entire train of thought, every track of it, just pouring out of his brain.

Toshinori observed this in silence for a moment. Giving Inko a worried look he accidentally prompted her to gently coax Izuku back to reality. Clearing his throat he said, "Anyways..." he found his composure, "The quirk I gave you is one of a kind. A quirk that's been passed down for eight generations of heroes. Ordinarily you'd have to grow into it, ease into the sheer power of this quirk. But you..." he hesitated, "didn't inherit it the way most of us did."

Izuku blinked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that everyone who's inherited this quirk has done so either at or very close to adulthood. You, young Midoriya, are the first child to literally grow up with this quirk. As such," he extended a hand, palm outstretched at Izuku, "the process of learning to use it will be very different for you." Putting his hand back on his lap he sighed, "I don't know if it'll be easier or more difficult for you. All I can say is that it seems to be helping you already. You can walk, which shouldn't even be possible, but here you are."

Izuku was quiet for a minute. Taking it all in, processing it. Eventually he asked, "So... what does all of this mean?" it was essentially a repeat of his previous question but it was no less valid than it had been a minute ago.

"It means I chose the right person to inherit my quirk," he smiled, "it means that you, both in body and soul, have what it takes to be a hero."

In that moment, Izuku felt better about his life than he ever had. He... he could be a hero after all. Not only did he have a quirk but he was going to get better. He had a chance!

"As the years go by, as you heal," Toshinori went on, "I'll teach you about this power and help you become a hero, Young Midoriya." Toshinori stood up and reached his hand out to Izuku, "What do you say? You already have the quirk. Now it's just a matter of what you do with it."

Moments of pure joy, elation, have a way of making one forget oneself. Troubles, in those moments, just seem to disappear and so did Izuku's. He stood up, hand slapping into Toshinori's and gripping firmly, without his crutches. Both the adults gaped at him, "Mister Toshinori," He said with a determined smile, " with this quirk, teach me how to be a hero."

Standing outside the Midoriya household Toshinori looked up at the stars. Hands in his pockets, he let the feeling that he had no clue what he was doing wash over him. There was no room for doubt, not while he had this job to do.

Behind him he heard the sound of a door opening and the closing. Inko was standing beside him.

"He didn't hurt himself, did he?"

She shook her head, "surprisingly no."

"That might mean it's manifesting faster than I thought..." he bit his lower lip, "I just hope that's a good thing. It'll be difficult enough as it is without his body playing keep-up every step of the way..."

"Why did you do it?" she asked, gripping at her pant legs, "Why did you give him your quirk? Why him?"

He just went with the truth, "Partially to save his life, partially because if I hadn't passed it along and I'd died in that hospital? Then my quirk would disappear along with me. Believe it or not, it was lucky that he got inured back then. For all of us."

She considered this for a moment, "What is your quirk?" she asked looking at him, "The one you gave my little Izuku."

He smiled. Reaching into the envelope Izuku had given him he procured his gift. It was a drawing. A drawing of All Might saying 'You're a real hero, mister!' and the words 'Thank you! - Izuku' written carefully at the bottom. Smiling at Inko he put a finger to his lips and said in hushed tone, "His quirk." and, after he put the drawing back into the envelope, he waved goodbye and walked away.

As Inko watched Toshinori Yagi- no, watched All Might walk away she prayed Izuku would be ready for such a responsibility. Fortunately, as his body would need to heal, he'd have time to grow into someone who would be.

She could only pray it would be time enough.

In the present, some eleven years later, Deku was sleeping on the couch as his lived through it all again in his dreams. Before his alarm even went off, a wet towel slapped him in the face. "whu-!?"

"Bout time you woke up, nerd." A hand grabbed the small towel, dragging it off his eyes as the other voice went on. "You forgot to set your alarm again."

Blinking, Deku almost scoffed. "No I didn-" Yes he had, so said the silent, morning breaking device mere feet from his head where he'd slept. "...Oh."

"Yup." Kacchan shook his head, shoving a bowl into Izuku's hands. "Eat up, we're off to punch in soon."

Mumbling out a thank you, Deku set to munching down on his breakfast. Kacchan wasn't much of a cook, but he didn't have time to complain. Ordinarily he'd be up to make breakfast, rather hurriedly, and then they'd be off to their job. Setting the dishes aside, petting the purring cat on the couch, he went to the bathroom to change.

Shirt buttoned, tie done right for once, vest and slacks straightened- "Fuck!" he hissed, falling back against the wall. Left hand slapping the wall, unable to find a hold on anything, he slid over and hit his head on the tub.

Growling at the indignity of it all he grabbed the sink and pulled himself up.

Every. Time.

Twitch those leg muscles wrong, lean on them for one second and it hurt like boiling lead was being poured into an open wound. Sighing, he fought the urge to slam back another pill and failed. He'd just woken up, the idea of needing one so early in the day drove him batty. Not being in pain quickly changed that. Reaching for his toothbrush he caught sight of his reflection. If the fifteen year old him could see that face... he wouldn't even know who it was. That once ordinarily smooth face was now lined with a thick layer of green stubble. That his facial hair matched the hair on his head was funny at first. Now it was just... there. His messy hair had become noticeably longer, bedraggled and snarled. For a minute or two he idly ran a comb through it, but ultimately decided it was pointless. It never cooperated anyways and it looked better messy. The bags under his bloodshot eyes spoke volumes of his sleeping habits; he had none to speak of. Of course them being bloodshot was unrelated, his painkillers were the real culprit there. Being constantly behind on sleep was just an easy excuse.

That was just him. Gone were the days of wearing t-shirts and hoodies. Red button up, sleeves rolled above his elbows, black tie, finger-less gloves, vest and slacks. Even his shoes, those clunky red squares, had been switched out for some professional oxfords. He knew the rule: oxfords not brogues. Though whatever film that saying came from slipped his mind. He begrudgingly grabbed his cane and hobbled out of the room. His hand drifted to the couch's end table and scooped up a silver pocket watch. Something an old friend had sent him from England for one of his birthdays. It was engraved with odd circular shapes, lacing through and over each other like some kind of language.

It came with a note saying, "saw a weird sci-fi show here in Brittan. It made me think of you, so... happy birthday, Deku! - Ochako" Clasped to his belt-loop with a bitter sigh it plopped into his vest pocket. Thinking about her was complicated. She was out and about with Tsu, fighting crime across the globe. No point in thinking about her. Who knew when he'd end up seeing her again.

The two of them had been out of the country practically since graduation. Following the work, or so the story went...

Limping toward the door he passed the old, sagging couch. Folding up the faded quilt, he dropped it on a pillow sitting inside an equally faded pillow-case. The door to his room was only open because he'd gone in to grab some clothes the night before. Giving it a once over he saw all was in order. A few things, namely mugs and a handtowel or two resting on a chair, were strewn about. He hadn't dusted in a while but the kitchen was clean. Dishes put away and all that.

When Kacchan emerged from his room, wearing a similar getup -minus the tie and gloves and with a jacket- he motioned for the door. "Let's go."

Down the stairs to Deku's car -purchased after months of eating the cheapest food they could- and the cripple drove them off to the police station.

What can I say except quoting the song this chapter is named after? "I couldn't stop myself."