Chapter 1: what is essential is invisible to the eye

Izumi didn't like her mother. Hate was too strong a word, but she wasn't entirely indifferent to her either. Sadly, it just worked out that if you had two mothers, you were bound to compare between them. And unfortunately for Inko, Izumi's first mother had been perfect.

Izumi knew that Inko had the potential to be a great mother – but only to a child that wasn't Izumi. She was strange and distant, incompatible with someone like Inko. Due to her odd maturity, Izumi got away with things that other children would not. But it often left her feeling like the adult around the house.

In this second life of hers, Izumi didn't want to be treated like a baby. Her mind was grown, and it was frustrating to be spoken down to. But her intial plan to act overly adult-like had had not endeared her to Inko as time passed. It only took a few years for all affection to stutter out between mother and daughter.

And so, Izumi passed life untethered, struggling to find a dream in this strange new world. Luckily, this all changed in the summer before her last year of middle school, when Izumi found her quirk, and the tapes.

At age seven, Izumi had not manifested her quirk. She was not as put out by the realisation of being quirkless as she had thought. Though she had heard about quirkless discrimination on the news, for a foreigner like Izumi, it didn't sound too bad.

After her elementary school teachers had brought up their fears that Izumi might be burdened with a lack of quirk, Inko quickly arranged an appointment at the doctor.

The appointment ended with the assurance that Izumi had an extra something in her toe, and after Inko thanked the kind doctor, she resolved to never commenting on the issue ever again. Izumi was not shocked by the outcome, but her lack of tears or emotion only unnerved her mother even more.

And thus, at age 14, when Izumi was cutting her nails, she was taken aback to see thin lines going down the middle of her nails. They were the thickness of a staple and flared out slightly at the front.

Pulling the flesh of her finger down slightly, Izumi saw that were like small, pin sized holes. They didn't hurt, and they certainly weren't there the night before. As she focused more on them, Izumi felt a strange pressure under all of her ten nails, an urge to pull.

Her immediate thought was that she had suddenly manifested her mother's quirk 'pull'. But no matter how she focused with her hands all day, nothing happened.

Inko interrupted Izumi's daydreams as she came through the door, stuttering out a broken 'I'm home', but not waiting for an answer. Izumi briefly considered getting up to show her mother what had happened. But conversation had run thin recently, and Izumi felt tired just imagining Inko's anxious and stuttering response as she tried to reply. Sighing, Izumi just span in her chair, waiting for the inevitable dinner call.

Inko was very obviously afraid of her daughter. She no longer tried to hide the anxiety she felt when speaking to her child. Izumi always managed to make her feel like a bad mother. But Inko also knew that she wasn't trying her best either.

Whilst it was nice in some ways having such a mature daughter, Inko personally felt unnerved by Izumi's knowing gaze. Every time Inko would come home and open an empty fridge, then realising she had forgot to buy groceries once again, a painful hole would open up inside as she awkwardly knocked to ask Izumi if she wanted takeout again this week. Though her daughter would say nothing, and hum her agreement, Inko felt the punch of disappointment physically. It was like living with her mother all over again.

At age 10, Izumi would only really initiate conversation to remind Inko to buy household goods and pay the bills. When she would forget something, Izumi brush it off, 'it's okay, you can buy it next time', but Inko could read the displeasure hiding behind her eyes.

Inko couldn't help her slightly clumsy nature. No matter how much she tried to be a mum who was on top of things, it was always too much. 'Do better, Inko!' her mum used to say. Living with Izumi, the same mantra continued echoing around in her brain. She felt like a failure in front of her collected daughter.

Slowly, more and more of the house responsibility had fallen onto Izumi. It started with laundry, then vacuuming, then the dish washing. These days Inko contemplating just giving up and allowing Izumi to run the household expenses. But to preserve at least some of her dignity as a mother, Inko persevered. She didn't want Izumi to lose all respect for her.

The worst part of it was that Inko liked kids. As a nurse, she met children often. Inko had always wanted to have kids of her own. But Izumi was neither cute or affectionate in the way that other people's kids were. Her daughter was strange and off-putting. Inko wanted days out shopping, nail salons and gossiping during movie marathons. Izumi wanted nothing. She would maintain a polite distance with her own parent, even in the most distressing of situations.

In the first year of middle school, Inko was called in by the principal to discuss Izumi bullying other children and getting into fights. As a modest and upright student in her youth, Inko was horrified.

"Y-You've been bullying students, Izumi?!"

"…"

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?!"

"Apologies, mother. This won't be happening again."

There was no remorse or guilt in her daughter's tone. The news that Izumi had been bullying her best friend's son, Bakugo only reinforced Inko's belief that she had been cursed in a past life. Whilst the car journey home had been spent preparing a righteous speech that would fix Izumi's behaviour, by the time the pair walked through the door, Inko's fervour popped like a bubble, and she lost the courage to speak on the subject.

Though the admission only reinforced her private belief that she was a bad mother – Inko often wished that Izumi had never been born. Life would be a lot easier without Izumi holding her back.

But over a year had passed since Izumi's bullying incident, and though the scabs on her daughter's knuckles proved that she wasn't done getting into fights, Inko was relieved that she hadn't been called in since.

Over the dinner table, Izumi was distracted, fidgeting with her hands and not bothering to eat her food or make her usual light conversation. Inko thought nothing of this strange behaviour, and happily ate in silence.

When Izumi locked eyes with her over the table, Inko couldn't hold her gaze for even a second, and flinched away.

Izumi was an echo of Inko's mother. She had received all the sharp lines of her grandmother and father, and none of the soft roundness that Inko had. As a teen, Inko had dreamed of a perfect family, a loving husband and a much-loved child. Even after Hisashi left, Inko still held hope when looking at her pregnant belly, fantasising of an adorable baby, with Inko's forest green hair and freckles.

But instead, Izumi came out. At 14, Izumi had lost a lot of her baby fat, and her freckles had lightened to barely visible. Except for Izumi's hair, which was still a few shades too light, there was nothing to suggest than the mother-daughter pair were related.

Inko couldn't help but simultaneously predict and dread that Izumi would grow up to be cold and cruel like her grandmother.

The eyes were the worst. Inko still struggled with the memory of her ex-husband. When Izumi looked straight at her with unfeeling eyes, it was all too easy to recall the disdain in Hisashi's eyes when he left her. Eyes that deemed her once more unworthy.

Why did Izumi have to look like a combination of all the demons of Inko's past? While she tried her best to be neutral as a mother, it was hard to look at her daughter's face and feel love.

But although Inko could not meet her daughter's gaze in that moment, her head snapped back as Izumi fell to the floor, small hands clutching at her head and convulsing in pain. Izumi's back arched from the floor freakishly, before slumping back down to the floor abruptly.

Frozen in shock, Inko dropped her spoon, before running to Izumi's form on the floor, who's limbs were jerking and twisting in straining angles. Was she having a seizure?

Inko ran for her phone in the kitchen, almost dropping it twice as she failed to grab it with weak hands. As a nurse, she was normally fine in these situations, but in this unprepared moment, her brain seemed to have short circuited.

She eventually managed to stumblingly press the numbers in and push the phone to her ear. By the time Inko returned back to their main room, Izumi was sat up against the back of the sofa, hunched over. As Inko shifted into the room, Izumi's eyes snapped up to glare at her, not with the familiar red, but glowing, green eyes.

"Ambulance service, what's your emergency?"

Inko's throat squeezed shut, and only a chocked sound left her mouth as she looked at the monster before her.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

The phone clattered to the floor from Inko's ear, as the creature that was not her daughter stood up. Unconsciously stepping back in fear, her back hit the door frame of the room.

Izumi stooped to turn the phone off.

"Mother?"

Inko looked at the monster in front of her, eyes shining with a toxic bright light. Izumi. This was not her daughter, this was a demon, there was only one explanation.

"Mother, are you okay?"

As Izumi the monster reached out for her, Inko jerked out of reach, trembling. Why her? Why had she been cursed like this?

Overcome with the urge to run, Inko fled the room, leaving her phone behind but remembering to grab her keys before slamming the door behind her.

The summer night was warm, and yet Inko felt freezing. Something had possessed her daughter. Something that made her eyes burn bright green.

Inko wanted to run.

At home, Izumi was left bewildered by the whole interaction. She was still racking her head trying to figure out what happened.

During dinner, she had been preoccupied figuring what was going on with her fingers. She could feel the strange tingle under her nailbeds, the desire to pull something in. But she didn't understand what.

If it wasn't her mother's mild telekinetic power, what was it?

Taking in Inko's hunched form at the table and the way she instinctively avoided her gaze, Izumi inwardly sighed. She would have to suck it up and ask her mother, wouldn't she?

But as she took in a breath and opened her mouth to ask, Izumi noticed a strange aura around her mother. It was so subtle that Izumi could just barely see it had a colour to it. Apple green. She could feel the aura rather than see it.

The sensation under nails got even stronger, and curious, Izumi pointed her fingers at her mother under the table, focusing on the aura before trying to tug. She was pleasantly surprised when something began to travel from her mother to her fingers. She couldn't feel air moving, but there was definitely something cool slowly making its way up her arm.

And then the pain began.

The sluggish movement suddenly sped up, going up her arm and straight into her spine. It settled above her nape - deep in her brain, and the rest of the cool spread thinly around her body.

The building pressure was enough to send her to the floor, and her brain felt like it could burst. It felt like nothing she had ever experienced.

Izumi could vaguely feel the thin bones of her fingers pop with some unseen movement, like they were breaking. The pain blinded her entirely, and Izumi forgot how to scream. She could feel her body creak and contort in agony, but nothing was easing the suffering.

And then it stopped. Like a switch, all the pain left her body, and Izumi was left panting on the floor.

There was no throbbing or soreness. Nothing to suggest that she had been in unbearable pain a second ago.

Izumi became aware of her position on the floor, chest still undulating with laboured breaths as she trembled with her own shock rather than any pain.

Sitting up, the first thing she did was look at her nails. The trumpet shaped marks still went down the length of her nails, but they had darkened to an almost black. But the tingle had gone entirely.

Izumi finally noticed her mother standing in front of her. Much like Izumi, her eyes were blown open in shock and fear. As Izumi struggled to find the words to assure her mother she was okay, Inko ran out of the house, leaving a very confused Izumi behind.

Though she briefly considered running after her mother, the drying sweat had made her suddenly cold and icky, and Izumi needed a shower more than anything. She wasn't fond of hospitals, but it would be wise to book an appointment anyway. That kind of pain could not have left her undamaged.

Under the flow of water, Izumi reflected on the vacuuming sensation. The pain was overwhelming, but it had been concentrated in her head and in her fingers. Blinded by the water, Izumi reached out unseeingly for her shampoo bottle, feeling very slight pain in her brain, but altogether unaware that the bottle had met her palm halfway.

In the mirror over the sink, Izumi thought her eyes looked a little strange. They were strangely bright, and from certain angles, it was as if there was a green iridescent film over her pupils. But as she continued to stare, the green sheen began to fade with every blink, leaving the normal crimson behind.

In the comfort of her room, Izumi lay down and struggled to work out what had happened. The vacuum sensation had only worked on her mother's 'aura'. She had checked many times during the day, but attempting once more anyways, Izumi focused on the water bottle on her desk. She aimed her hand at it and summoned the desire to pull the bottle into her palm like her mother had done many times over the years.

There was again that small tug in her brain, before the bottle flung towards her hand, falling to the floor when she failed to grab it in time.

Her hand stung with the impact. It had flown so quickly – nothing like the gentle tug of her mother's quirk. But that wasn't necessarily unordinary. Every quirk mutated or got stronger with every generation.

This was something different.

Her father's quirk might be the issue. Children weren't usually equal combinations of their parents. The complexities of Izumi's quirk might be explained if she knew what else had contributed to it. Her mother definitely didn't have pin holes in her fingers. Or see a coloured aura. Though she knew that Inko hated talking about her father, Izumi would have to force the subject.

Secretly, Izumi had a second hunch, one that she would need to wait to confirm. When she absorbed her mother's aura, it felt as if her whole body had been rearranged. Like her body was forcibly transformed to make 'space' for the quirk. Izumi had felt something fundamentally change in her brain, even if she couldn't confirm it.

As she repeatedly used her new 'pull' quirk, Izumi knew that there was more to her quirk than met the eye. Quite literally actually, as the green sheen of her eyes coincidentally matched the apple green aura of her mother. Suddenly receiving her quirk was no accident.