Present Mic's Radio Show!
Tuesdays and Thursdays from 18:30 to 19:30 Canary's Hour
PRESENT MIC: YYYEEEAAAHHH!
CANARY: Yay.
PRESENT MIC: IIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTT'S six thirty! And we all know what that means... CANARY: I should be doing my homework.
PRESENT MIC: YYYEEEAAAHHH – wait – that's not what you're supposed to say! * faint scribbling sounds can be heard *
PRESENT MIC: Are you actually doing your homework?!
CANARY: Well, someone set us a massive English essay –
PRESENT MIC: You're fluent in English!
CANARY: – that I thought would be acceptable to leave until last minute for precisely that reason. But then I remembered it's due on a Friday and therefore leaving it until last minute would mean I have to do it on a Thursday evening and here we are.
silence follows as the scribbling continues *
PRESENT MIC: Ok, are you actually going to – CANARY: Almost finished...
PRESENT MIC: What's it on again?
CANARY: You were the one who set it! PRESENT MIC: I have a lot on my shoulders and – CANARY: Whatever you say, Cockatoo.
frantic tweeting noises *
CANARY: Yes, thank you, Siren – but if you poop on my work I will disown you.
PRESENT MIC: I think I need a pet bird too.
flapping followed by a yelp, Canary's muffled laughter and Siren's squawks *
PRESENT MIC: PET WAS NOT AN INSULT – I REPEAT – PET WAS NOT AN INSULT!
CANARY: I think Siren has an intelligence Quirk – she is way too smart for her own good.
PRESENT MIC: I meant I need a bird companion too.
a tense silence ended by a satisfied tweet and a sigh of relief *
CANARY: Finished! Can I hand it in now?
PRESENT MIC: NO! Because I will lose it, guaranteed.
Canary sighs and a rustling of paper indicates he has shoved his work into a backpack *
PRESENT MIC: ANYWAY – Moving on! We have a show to get to! First things first, as always, let us begin with our weekly talk with one of you lucky listeners!
CANARY: I know what you guys are plotting, and I swear – I will hang up.
PRESENT MIC: I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that and LET'S SEE IF OUR LISTENER
PICKS UP!
a ring tone can be heard – one which Siren repeats dutifully in the background *
LISTENER: Hello?
PRESENT MIC: YYYEEEAAAHHH! You have made it all the way to our radio show! LISTENER: Great, so, Midoriya –
CANARY: OH MY GOD, JIRO – I literally just said –
LISTENER {JIRO}: Yeah, yeah, whatever – so anyway – what was the English essay on again?
Canary sighs exasperatingly *
CANARY: You know what, in punishment, I'm not going to tell you. * A collective groan can be heard from the listener's end *
CANARY: Ok, someone in the radio station is putting you through every time any of you guys call – and to that someone, Siren will find you and make your life a living hell.
Siren tweets in agreement *
PRESENT MIC: WELL, you get one question that is not school related, Jiro!
LISTENER {JIRO}: Sure, err... why Canary? You could have chosen literally any other bird name out there – and you went for Canary, why?
CANARY: Oh, that's an easy one. Let me tell you a story!
In a tradition dating back to 1911, canaries were the heroes of the underground, known for the capture of a silent killer, and for being the saviours of countless lives, all because of their singing.
Deep in the coal mines, where men were hard at work, chipping away at the stone walls in search of a black gold, hanging from the ceiling were tiny cages, each inhabited by a little bird – a canary.
The canaries would sing and sing, for it was all they knew – trapped in that tiny box, incapable of flight – all they could do, was sing. And so, they sang. They sang and they sang their little hearts out, finding melody within the rhythmic beat of the miners' pics as they hit the walls mercilessly, desperate to find the fuel that would keep the cities alive and running. There were times when the miners would live for the singing of the canaries, a gentle reminder of the world above – of the morning sun and kind world they learn to love that little bit more as they spend so much time away from it.
And so, when the singing stops, it's not hard to notice.
The miners look up at the ceiling, and see the little birds, collapsed in their cages – sounds no longer whistling from their throats.
Carbon monoxide – the silent killer.
The gas binds to blood instead of oxygen in a permanent fashion, meaning no matter how much more oxygen a person inhales, it would not satisfy them. It would never reach their cells, and they would die quickly – drifting off into an endless sleep.
There are several reasons that canaries were killed by the gas before the miners. The first, was the chemical make up of a bird's blood. Whilst a human's red blood cells are formed from stem cells in the bone marrow, a bird's simply replicate themselves in the blood stream. This means, poisoned cells can not easily be replaced like they can in a human. However, the more potent reason is the size of a canary – so small, so fragile. Less blood means more can be poisoned at a faster rate. Meaning they drop dead before the miners.
And so, leaving the little bodies of the birds deep in the mines, the men are evacuated before the
gas can kill them too.
The sweet sound of bird song, or the lack thereof, being the only reason that their descendants walk this Earth today.
Almost two years earlier
(...Before the radio show, not 1911 - you know what? I'm just going to shut up and let you read, yeah? Yeah...)
Midoriya sighed as he closed his book. He was procrastinating – learning about things he really didn't need to learn about – but when did that ever stop him? Anyway, all this talk of canaries in mines was far more interesting than any of the other facts he should have been committing to his mind.
He was supposed to be going over his history work. He was far ahead of the rest of the class, but one of the things he could never have known for sure, was what was to be on UA's entrance exam, and he could never be too careful.
He needed to get into general studies. UA was his first step to –
He glanced up at the poster of All Might looming over his computer. He'd taken the rest of them down. But he couldn't bring himself to completely free his room of memorabilia, and so, the poster remained.
– becoming a hero.
No, no – NO.
It was a childish dream. It was about time he gave up and –
– wish for a Quirk in your next life and take a swan dive of the roof of the building! – and focused on a more realistic goal.
It's good to have dreams, but... make sure they're attainable.
Attainable... attainable...
"Izuku!"
Midoriya jumped, almost falling off his chair.
"Can I come in, Izuku?"
He didn't say anything, so his mother let his door creak open.
"Still studying?" she frowned. Inko carried a bowl of ramen into his room and slid it in front of him. She pulled up a chair and sat to eat her own bowl beside him.
It took a moment, but eventually he picked up the chopsticks and began to eat too.
"If you overwork yourself, or you won't be able to perform as well as I know you can in the exam tomorrow!" his mother insisted.
"I'm sorry, Mum," Midoriya said in an impossibly quiet voice. It was almost a miracle his mother heard him at all.
"Your brain is much like any of your other muscles. You wouldn't go for a run before a marathon! Why should you do the same for an exam? Your brain needs a rest."
Midoriya smiled meekly and nodded.
"Good. If you can't sleep – do something different! Play one of your instruments. I don't mind what time of the night it is – oh, as long as it's not the drums."
Midoriya almost laughed. The smile was good enough for his mum.
"Maybe you could even sing! You know, I don't think I've ever heard you sing before - at least not in a long, long time. You should give it a try!"
He shook his head frantically, almost losing the noodles, halfway to his mouth.
"Why not, Izuku? You were so unsure about dance class at first, but that turned out to be really fun, remember?"
"Singing's different," he protested, his voice still as quiet as a mouse. "Why is that?"
"Because to sing, I have to first talk."
Inko sighed. She put down her chopsticks and gently rubbed her son's shoulders. "You will get into UA – I'm sure you will. And once you're there, you'll make lots of new friends! They won't be like the people at your old school. This is a hero school. Even if you're not on the hero course, no one there is going to say anything about your Quirklessness. If they do, just tell one of the teachers and they will sort the problem out. The teachers are heroes, remember? You used to love heroes so much."
You can't become a hero.
She gazed up at the remaining All Might poster. "Things are going to be different," she insisted, as
if she was convincing herself of the fact. "And then, maybe talking won't be so scary!" Quirkless – useless – mute.
But he wasn't mute – really. Midoriya could talk if he wanted to. But it was just so much easier to fade into the background – to not argue or complain. They pick on him less. He knew his place now – quiet, silent. But then that made it worse. He didn't understand why – but eventually his classmates realised he hadn't talked for months – that they didn't remember what his voice sounded like. Kacchan noticed it too. He found it funny.
So, so funny.
And the teachers didn't care. They told him off for not speaking in class or not answering for the register in the morning. And suddenly the words became harder and harder to say. Uttering a simple yes or no felt as hard as cracking open a locked safe. His mother took him to see specialists. She said that he would speak to her – but anyone else...
They told him he was selectively mute.
He told them that he wasn't. He just didn't like speaking. That confused them. But, nonetheless, Midoriya took the title, hoping his peers would leave him alone now his shyness had a name.
They didn't.
"You could get their autographs!" Inko said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. "Wouldn't that be nice?"
Midoriya grunted in reply and put down his chopsticks.
"But honey, you've hardly eaten anything! You need brain power!" "I'll be alright."
Inko hesitated. "D-Does that mean you feel prepared?! That's wonderful to hear! N-Now... it's seven o'clock – so a little early to go to bed quite yet. Why don't you play something? The neighbours said they can hear it if you leave the window open – they really like it! Honestly, if you sang along, it could help with your confidence a little!"
"Maybe one day."
Inko smiled as her son opened the window and picked up his guitar, tuning it slowly and fiddling with the fret.
"I'm proud of you, Izuku – you know that, right?" He smiled at her, "Thank you, Mum."
She picked up her empty bowl and her son's worryingly full one, before beginning to walk towards the door as Izuku began to strum a tune.
~Tiny Dancer – Elton John~
She left his door open to let the music flow through the apartment, a skip in her step and a smile creeping across her face as she threw away the remainder of the food and washed up the bowls.
Inko began to hum the melody to the famous song. Music drifting through the air and giving the otherwise tedious task a new life and a new rhythm. It gave her such joy to hear her son pour his heart and soul into his music. He loved it more than he had ever loved anything. It gave him a purpose; something to enjoy. He'd wanted to be a hero all his life, but he was Quirkless, and as much as Inko wanted to support him; to say you can be a hero! she just couldn't. Because it wasn't the truth. Izuku deserved nothing but the truth.
The last ten months had been hard for him. She didn't understand why but, all of a sudden, that
stubborn light of hope that shone so lustrously from him was snuffed out. He stopped talking – focused only on his studies. Consequently, he was so bright that not even that school could put him down. But... that brightness just didn't hold the same warmth as it once did. All Inko wanted was to see him happy again.
He was so good at the guitar. He had to stop lessons when the teacher said there was nothing more he could possibly teach him, and Izuku refused to spend money on something that was no longer necessary. He had the same attitude for nearly every instrument he'd ever learnt. He knew the guitar, piano, drums – but no instrument that required his mouth to play. Inko wondered if it was because he wanted to sing, but he refused every time. The only class he continued to attend was dance. It had kept his fitness up. If it weren't for that, Inko was worried he'd waste away, locked up in his room forever. But the boy had always been drawn to such things – it was like music was a part of him.
Not that she was surprised. It was her husband's influence, she supposed. With his Quirk, fire breath, he could never sing without filling the house with smoke, but that never stopped him when they were younger. He had such a beautiful voice. He told her she wasn't so bad herself. That always made her smile. Inko wondered if Izuku had inherited it. She longed to hear him sing so much, to see if he had.
Inko opened the other windows across the apartment, letting the sound free from its cage to sing to the rest of the world, even if Izuku wouldn't open his mouth to do the same – his music still brought others joy. It held a certain magic in it.
Tiny dancer. He'd danced to this song once before. It had brought her to tears. Hisashi always said she was such a crier.
Inko leant on the windowsill and gazed out at the rest of the world. There were drunks, hobbling home, arm in arm, down on the street.
As she opened her mouth to sing the chorus, more tears pricked at her eyes when those drunken souls began to kick at the puddles in the rain and sing along too.
"Hold me closer tiny dancer..."
If only Izuku had the bravery to sing along. His voice could change the world; Inko was sure of it. A canary couldn't save any lives if it refused to sing.
Chapter End Notes
Songs used in this chapter:
Tiny Dancer - Elton John - Guitar Cover https//watch?v=De4rv4CtsnY
Oh and this fic will likely be updated every FOUR days - rather than three like in my last story - that was a little too demanding ha ha...
The Greatest Adventures Start with the Humblest Beginnings
Chapter Notes
Ok, guys - if the traitor is in class 1-A it's most DEFINITELY Hagakure. Like, there is NO other possibility. I mean, go back to the episode where the 'press' break in to UA. When the class is picking their president, Hagakure is legitimately not there. Like - GONE. No one even notices, which links into the whole 'no one ever notices me' thing that Hagakure does.
Anyway I just thought I'd rant ignore me.
BACK TO CANARY.
Someone pointed out that it's a little unlikely that Midoriya has never sung anything before in his fourteen years of life. Yes, I know - he HAS and that will be an important factor in discovering the possibilities and limitations of his Quirk. The problem is that he never sang the right songs in the right way. Anyway, you'll see ;)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The fact that Midoriya wasn't to try for UA's hero course seemed to satisfy Kacchan. He certainly wasn't happy that Midoriya would be trying for any course at all in his dream school, but general studies would have to do. It's not like the two would often cross paths anyway – let alone speak to each other.
Midoriya eventually concluded that his mother knew about his poor relationship with Kacchan. Whether she had ever spoken with Mrs Bakugo about the matter was another story. Nonetheless, she didn't make him travel to the UA grounds alongside his old friend. That, unfortunately, didn't save the two from meeting at the gates.
Kacchan glared at him, "Stay out of my way, Deku," he hissed.
Midoriya didn't say anything at all. He stepped back frantically and let Kacchan waltz in ahead of him. A few of the other people around him glanced curiously as he stood, head down, just outside the gates.
Once Kacchan was out of sight, Midoriya shook his head and stepped inside the school. 'I need to get a grip – I'm not going to be in his class anymore so there's no need to worry! Yeah, maybe words won't get stuck in my throat anymore and –'
and he wasn't looking where he was going. He tripped up on a loose tile, about to fall face first onto the ground and make an absolute fool of himself in front of everyone!
But then suddenly the ground stopped growing closer to his face – no, he stopped – in mid-air. 'What the –'
"Are you ok?" someone laughed.
Midoriya almost yelped in surprise at the pink cheeked girl beside him.
"I stopped you with my Quirk. I would have asked first, but I figured you wouldn't mind me helping!"
He just stared at her.
She didn't seem to notice, only propping him upright, deactivating her Quirk and waving goodbye, before skipping off towards the hero course entrance examinations.
The hero course... A different world to his own.
Midoriya shook the brief thoughts of friendship and panics over actually interacting with a girl, to refocus on the upcoming exams. They would determine his future, after all – hero course or not.
There were two parts to UA's hero course entrance exam, a practical and a theoretical. However, for general studies, the soon to be students were instead given two papers, one far more challenging than the other. It was clear, as Midoriya's pen scribbled across the exam, that whoever set these questions did not intend for all the necessary knowledge to be in place. Some were far too advanced and complicated for your average middle school graduate to complete to their fullest extent. However, Midoriya was not your average middle school graduate.
Question Eighteen:
Explain how Quirklessness is inherited and how this can be identified by specialists.
It was practically made for him. To have the last question revolving around Quirklessness was to be expected, of course. This was the first year that UA had allowed Quirkless people to enter any of their courses. That included the hero course, but as many had said before, it was time Midoriya got his head out of the clouds and strived for a dream that was... more attainable.
Midoriya's mind raced as he batted the top of his pen against his lip, 'There are eleven marks available for this question. It's clear they want us to use medical terms and clearly describe the link between the lack of a Quirk and an extra joint in your little toe...' he thought, before beginning to write:
Quirklessness is a hereditary condition caused by two recessive alleles. This means both the mother and father must have been a carrier of Quirklessness (or be Quirkless themselves) in order to have a Quirkless child, despite having Quirks themselves. This is because the gene that allows the expression of a Quirk is dominant, meaning if only one dominant allele is present, it will mask the effect of a recessive allele and produce a Quirk. The probability of having a Quirkless child if both parents are carriers is 25%. This probability isn't fixed because freak mutations can occur, resulting in Quirks entirely different to the child's parents in rare situations. Carriers of Quirklessness are increasingly rare, meaning the percentage of the population which are Quirkless is less than 5%. However, a majority of this number are rather elderly, and the proportion of Quirkless people who are of my generation is only around 20%. This means the percentage of people who are of my age and Quirkless is only 1%. Quirklessness can be difficult to diagnose as some Quirks can be 'invisible' and difficult to identify at a young age. However, for Quirk doctors, this can be a little easier. Autosomal linkage is where two genes are positioned very close to each other on the same chromosome (close to each other in DNA) and are therefore frequently inherited together. The recessive alleles of Quirklessness are inherited alongside an extra joint in the subject's little toes. A Quirk doctor need only take an X-ray to see if this joint is present in order to diagnose Quirklessness. The chance of having the extra joint and having a Quirk is rarer than Quirklessness itself (if you don't take into account any situations where the Quirk results in extra bones or joints being present). In genetic inheritance, chromosomes can cross over and exchange pieces of DNA during meiosis. However, the recombinant frequency of Quirklessness and having
an extra joint is so low (because the alleles are so close together) that the inheritance of either gene separately is near to unheard of.
"Have you come across anyone particularly interesting in the entrance exams this year, All Might?" questioned Principal Nedzu.
The skeletal man sighed, "Unfortunately no. There were a few who received a good number of rescue points, but no one who made a particularly grand impression."
"Hm, a shame really. But perhaps Sir Nighteye's suggestion will do you well?"
"I hope so. I have faith in Young Mirio – he seems a promising candidate. But I fear that he'll refuse the Quirk."
The two were sitting in the Principal's office. Yagi gazed at the results board for the first-year hero course exams whilst Nedzu happily finished marking the theoretical papers for general and business studies.
"It is a possibility. He has done so well with his own abilities recently and could wish for another, less fortunate soul, to take up your mantle."
"Yeah... What about you, Principal Nedzu? Anyone you find... interesting, this year?" "Why yes, I most certainly did!"
Yagi blinked in surprise. "You did? From the hero course?"
"No, no," he smiled. "Quite the opposite. For you see, I put some particularly difficult questions in the general studies examinations this year, but one student has breezed through it all with no apparent difficulty. You should read his brief essay on the inheritance of Quirklessness – quite stunning! I would expect such an answer from a graduate of UA – not simply a future student!"
"Quirklessness?" Yagi frowned, accepting the paper from the Principal. He scanned through the answer – neat handwriting and outstanding knowledge for someone of his age.
"Yes, but I would expect he's done quite a bit of research into the matter, considering he's Quirkless himself."
All Might almost dropped the paper in surprise. "Quirkless? In his generation?"
"If you read his report you'll find that only 1% of our population fit those parameters," the Principal chuckled. "To think we could have missed out on such a bright young man if we continued to not accept Quirkless people. I'm almost ashamed of whoever set the rule to begin with. However, it would have been necessary back along, when Quirklessness was more common."
All Might closed the paper and flipped to the front. He had a very high mark – only dropping a few here and there.
Izuku Midoriya...
Where had he heard that name before?
Midoriya's weekly schedule had been a busy one. Although, as he mastered instruments and dropped their lessons, he found himself with more and more free time. That was why, on a Thursday evening, he was wandering down the coastline, guitar bag in hand, looking for somewhere quiet and desolate to play.
He used to learn piano on a Thursday. It was guitar on Tuesdays – violin on a Wednesday. Mondays were always free, and so were Fridays. On Friday, his father called in from the United States. He would talk to his wife for a while before Izuku arrived and he would tell him about his week. Izuku never had much to say. He'd tell him about his music and revising for the entrance exams, but nothing more. There was never anything else to say.
Saturdays and Sundays were reserved for dance classes. The thing is with dance, is Midoriya could never really get enough of it. It was awfully scary at first, but he soon realised that everyone else there was as frightened as he was to mess up or look like a fool. They learned routines, sometimes together, sometimes alone – never a master of one but decent at everything they tried. It was... fun. But God forbid anyone outside the club ever learning of Midoriya's past times. Kacchan knew about the drum lessons, but that was only because they'd bumped into each other there, and silently agreed never to speak of it again – not that it was too difficult for Midoriya.
Dagobah beach – what a tip.
The only ones around here to listen to Midoriya's music were the seagulls – and he was more than happy for it. Perhaps he should do something about all this rubbish. Midoriya supposed this stretch of coastline could have been beautiful without all the trash.
He wandered down onto the sand. Being careful where he trod, Midoriya made his way to the front of the piles of rubbish, so he could look out at the sun setting over the ocean. Precariously, the boy clambered to the top of one of the towering peaks of junk and sat down on top of what appeared to be an old microwave. He balanced his guitar case under his feet and checked to see if the instrument was in tune.
He sat there for hours, strumming along to whatever tune surfaced in his mind, watching the waves lap at the shore. Eventually, when the light of day was all but gone, he packed up his things and started to wander home.
He didn't see the familiar, gaunt man, sitting on the bench not far away, humming along to those same tunes as he watched Midoriya's silhouette, contrasted against the orange of the sunset.
Yagi smiled, "Izuku Midoriya, huh?" He was one to watch – that was for sure.
"Izuku?! IZUKU!"
Midoriya frantically tossed off his shoes and ran inside, worried about what his mum might be
calling him for at such a time.
"M-Mum?!" he replied, dropping his guitar in the kitchen.
"Ah, Izuku!" she exclaimed, hurrying into view. "Your letter – from UA – it's here!" 'But it's only been a few days..." he thought with a worried frown.
He couldn't quite tell if that was good news or bad news.
Midoriya accepted the letter and sat down on the sofa. His mother joined him, faltering as she asked if it was ok to see UA's response at the same time as him. He didn't protest, but his hands were shaking as he opened the envelope.
The letter fell out into his lap, the bold, golden logo of UA staring at him from the back of the message. Slowly but surely, he turned over the paper, and learned the nature of his fate.
Dear Izuku Midoriya,
Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that we at UA offer you a place in general studies class 1-C for the following academic year.
"IZUKU!" Inko cried, "You got in! I'm so proud of you!"
Midoriya merely grinned, his eyes never leaving the paper, transfixed on those first few words.
It was only after much squealing with delight from his mother that Midoriya was finally able to read the remainder of his letter. She hurried off to bring him a celebratory dinner, which he was certain she would have given to him in spite of the result. It spoke about the many opportunities that UA offered general studies course students – the close interactions with pro hero teachers and opportunities beyond graduating there. But after that, it was clear that the acceptance letter was more personalised than Midoriya thought it would have been.
Midoriya, you were the highest-ranking student in theoretical papers across all first-year examinations, with a staggering 91%, even against particularly challenging questions that even third years at UA would struggle to answer at the level of detail that you portrayed. We did not expect many of our candidates to exceed a mark of 80%, particularly when scoring points in tricky questions in the second paper. Most impressive was your answer to the question surrounding the inheritance of Quirklessness, portraying a scientific knowledge far beyond what is expected of someone your age. It was only when we checked your background that the reasons behind this became clear.
Midoriya gulped as he read on, fearing the worst – perhaps them saying that he needed to prove he was more than his Quirklessness if he hoped to succeed at UA. What if –
You will be the very first Quirkless student attending UA, should you accept our offer. But let us promise you that we will not let you down, nor permit any bigotry towards your condition or your selective muteness, as stated in your medical records. If you have any questions or queries surrounding this, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Yours sincerely,
Principal Nedzu.
Midoriya hadn't noticed his mum leaning over his shoulder, reading the words as he did.
"This all sounds very positive, don't you think, Izuku?" she said cheerfully, pushing a bowl of katsudon towards him.
He hesitated, before putting the letter down and turning to his food. He smiled, "Yeah... I guess it is."
And his mother smiled wider.
But neither of them could have guessed what his start at UA would lead to.