It started as a heated tingle in his fingers.

The rest of the young redhead's body had felt perfectly fine, energetic even, as was normal for a young 4-year old like himself. His amber eyes looked at his soft hands - most of his skin fairly tanned, yet his fingers were just a tad darker now. Not enough to panic for most, but still noticeable that others would be asking questions he had no answers to.

"See? They're not the same colour..." The boy looked to his mother, a tall and radiant woman even when she didn't literally light up. The worry on her angular face soon replaced itself with a knowing smile, her own amber eyes staring into her son's to tell him everything would be okay.

"You'll be fine, dear." She knew full well what it meant. Before her own Quirk manifested, she felt warmth over her entire body, followed by lighting herself on fire in the middle of a class and bringing about a bit of chaos. Thankfully, she got her outbursts under control quickly - a fire Quirk as volatile as hers required it - and her efforts did not go unnoticed: The Scarlet Striker was a well-known Hero even after only a short few years.

"Come on, get dressed, it's the last day of the school week..." She ushered him upstairs, his protests amusing her but also annoying her slightly. He certainly took after her, too wild for their own good, but even a little bit of restraint went a long way, as she had learned with her own mentor, the same one who shaped her into the current Number 70 of Illinois.

If he was as good as she was with whatever Quirk he had gotten, he would surely become the Hero he desired to be.

Ignatius bounced in his chair nervously as he waited for the doctor to call him in, clutching his right index softly with his left hand.

Not three hours before, a silly game of 'Cops and Robbers' ended abruptly with him firing off a crimson beam that just barely missed a classmate and lit a plant on fire. He stumbled back in surprise, pain coursing through the index. The tip of it was slightly scorched, as if he had gotten too close to a fire; tinges of pain surged through it, and he felt tears forcefully stinging his face a little because of the pain.

Yet, he wasn't sure how to feel in the moment. He was hurting from the burnt finger, scared about the new Quirk, excited that it was so similar yet so different to his mother's. He was always oh so giddy about being a Hero like her, like Arcangel, like EMP. He could be one of them, and he would stop at nothing to be the ideal figure for the masses.

"Ignatius Redd?" A voice called from the nearby door. The hospital was spotless as per the rules, and the office seemed to be no exception. The man calling him seemed gruff, yet amicable, a soft smile never leaving old, bearded lips aided by understanding gray eyes.

"Iggy", the young boy corrected with the nickname he used for himself as he got up from the chair, stumbling a bit. He never was good with heights, however small they were. "Are you dee-arr Strauss?" He asked innocently, unaware of the shortened form.

This got a slight chuckle from the man, looking to his worry-filled mother, then back to him. "Doctor Strauss", he corrected back. "'Dr.' is an abbreviation. You can both come in."

"Uh-bree-vee-ey-shun..." The redhead repeated in a whisper, his mother taking him through the office that would change his course of life forever and make his Quirk official.

Eleven years had passed. Heroes had come and gone, Villains the same, yet the world felt more at peace than it had all that time ago. If there was a better status quo, few knew of it.

A target stood in one end of a small, metal room, scorch marks tainting the natural sheen. The target itself was brand new, not practiced on yet. It was, however, soon to change - the teen standing on the opposite end aiming not with a gun or other projectile, but with a finger, very slightly blackened as if scorched.

"Bang", the redhead let out, a scarlet beam of flame sparking across the room to hit the target just above the center. Not perfect, but definitely better than a year, even a month ago. Satisfied, he blew onto his finger, slightly smoking, before shaking his hand in a vain attempt to ease the sting from overusing his Quirk.

Three knocks interrupted the young man from his thoughts as he was alerted to the world around him actually existing. "Come in!" Entering the room at his call was a fairly tall man with hair as disheveled as his, but blonde rather than his reddening orange. His brown eyes had bags that he'd known for a long while now, skin much paler than his or his mother's, yet also as rugged as his own.

He still wore most of his work outfit, dress shoes replaced by sandals that absolutely did not mesh with the white socks, button-up slightly unbuttoned to let him breathe. But most notably, his hands were covered by gloves, rubber ones, forcefully worn in order to prevent any accidents with his Quirk.

"Hey Iggy", his father finally spoke, the exhaustion in his voice palpable and causing the teen to flinch. He never complained about his job and it certainly paid well, but it always bothered him to see his family like this. "Dinner's in ten minutes."

Ignatius's eyes widened at the realization after looking at his watch to make sure he wasn't being tricked. "Ten... ah jeez, I've been here for hours!" He looked to his fingers, thankful that the only the tips were slightly scorched from overuse. "I need to be more careful..." His thumb passed over a missing pinky finger on his left, and he winced slightly. Not a memory he'd like to relive.

"With yourself", Charles added. "When it comes to anyone else, you're the most careful person I know, champ..."

"But the person I neglect most is me", he concluded with a sigh. "Please tell mom I'll be on my way, I just need to pack up the targets."

"The new ointments are in the cabinet", his father noted, before taking steps out the door and leaving the redhead to his thoughts.

"I can be a Hero. I will be a Hero."

While the salad wasn't particularly perfect and the dessert had been ordered from a different place, there was one thing that Alicia Redd could cook, and that was mouth-watering steaks that made entire restaurant chains ask for her services as a full-time cook. She, of course, denied them all - hero business always took priority in her mind - but it didn't mean she couldn't cook those same fantastic dishes for her family.

"And that's how my day ended - I'll have to buy a replacement set of headphones for Terabyte." Taking another bite of the steak pointedly, Ignatius's mother finished telling her story - another in a long line of heroics she had managed over so long. "So, last day of school tomorrow, right, Iggy?" She turned to her son, who had almost finished his plate by this point, clearly a bit more hungry than he let on to his dad. "Excited to train over the summer?"

A brief, awkward silence filled the room, the redhead having tuned out for a bit and coming to only when his mom snapped her fingers at him. "Oh! Yeah, yeah..." This got her to raise a brow in concern. "Are you okay? You've been quiet all night."

Truthfully, he wasn't. The teen had built himself up to pretty good shape, even getting some pointers from a couple of friends and the Scarlet Striker herself, and his Quirk was improving every month, week, day. Despite this and his determination, he didn't feel ready.

"What if I can't make it?" He asked, that glint of worry filling a part of his amber eyes. "To Olympia High. I know they've been taking more students recently, but..."

"You think you're not strong enough", her bluntness earned a stare from her husband and a touch from his bare finger to her elbow, shocking her. "Ow!"

"What did we talk about regarding being blunt with our son?"

"Only when he actually asks for it..." She rubbed her elbow, glaring back only because she hadn't been warned of the 'attack'. "Iggy, dear, I'm not gonna sit here and tell you the entrance exam I took was easy. Odds are, it's even harder now!" A few grumbles came from Charles, silenced by his wife's finger being put to his lips.

"But", she continued. "I also know you've been working harder than I was back then. Your Quirk, those beams... I know plenty of people who wish they had your firepower and drive to improve. You'll do great."

The young man looked at his plate, already emptied. He looked back to his mother, a new fire igniting in his eyes. Deep down, he still had doubts, but if he wanted to get into the best school in the state, he'd have to push them aside.

A quiet nod was all Ignatius gave in response, but she knew she had gotten to him at least enough to get him through the rest of the night. It helped that the steaks were as tasty as ever – how did she cook them so well with her Quirk?

Changing into his pajamas not long after, the young redhead pulled his phone from the nearby cabinet, climbing into bed and quickly skimming through his contact list before settling on one 'Merri'. He hesitated, once, twice, before shaking his head and quickly typing up a simple sentence: 'we need to talk'.

Satisfied enough with the text, he closed his phone – but not before checking that his alarm was set – and actually climbed into the covers to get some well-earned rest.

The morning of the next day was a kind of quiet that Ignatius wasn't particularly used to, outside the alarm that easily woke him up. Sure, he had certainly ended dinner on a positive note with reassurance from his parents that he was going to be a great Hero, but the lingering thoughts of messing up still haunted him. He had screwed up before. One wrong turn into the wrong store, and...

He shook his head from those thoughts as he finally eased himself off his bed, stretching a bit before putting on his uniform, freshly pressed from his father. He and his mother had already left for their respective jobs; the redhead was used to this by now. He did wish dad didn't nearly run himself ragged despite the family being decently well-off, but something in his mind told him he expected to pick up on extra slack regardless, and decided to get ahead of trouble.

That was something Charles had in common with his son - wanting to put their own bodies at risk for the sake of others they care about. In fact, that sentiment of Ignatius only grew over the past year, his determination to be a Hero for those who can't defend themselves, to lend a hand to anyone who may need it, no matter who they may be or where they may come from.

Another half hour spent eating his breakfast and gathering his belongings, and the young redhead had made his way out the door and into Aurora's streets. A minute more, and he was at the bus stop to take him to Caelus Middle School. He was a part of the first few picked up, so he had more than enough seats to pick, taking one of the middle seats by the window. Not a moment too soon, his waiting lead to her being at the bus door, turning to him as soon as he was spotted.

Merriweather Vayne had changed quite a bit in the last year. No longer was she the purple-eyed girl whose smile shone a light on anyone who dared look. Her appearance hadn't changed in the slightest - tall and slender with black hair that went down to her calves and tapered off into purple as radiant as her eyes, a round face completing a slightly awkward overall look. Without a bright smile, however, she had become equal parts unnerving and intimidating, and most wouldn't sit next to her.

Ignatius didn't care. Despite her recent attitudes towards him, he still saw her as some sort of friend. And there was certainly still a chance, if her taking the seat next to his was any indication.

"I got your text", her quiet voice started, breaking the ice before anyone else tried saying anything about them being together again. "What do you want?"

Her eyes bore into his, the redhead making a noise of uncertainty as he pursed his thoughts for what direction to take the conversation in. "You're trying out for Olympia High, right?"

A pause made him more uncomfortable about his question than either possible answer ever could.

"Yeah."

With confirmation, he looked to her, taking a deep breath to steel himself. "Let's train together. It'd be good for..." His sentence was interrupted by a grunt of hers, followed by her own voice. "I'm doing fine on my own. I don't need your help."

"It's not about help!" He raised his voice, but still not enough to alert any students that a tense conversation was actually happening. "I just want to hang out like we used to. You keep saying nothing's changed between us, was that a lie?" Her lips trembled. She wanted to reply, but words wouldn't come out. Thankfully to her, she didn't have to reply. "It's what he would have w-"

Her eyes jolted open, and the redhead immediately regretted bringing up the subject. "Don't... bring him up", she spat, hand trembling as she resisted against using her Quirk with every ounce of her being. "You know damn well how I feel about that."

The young teen gulped, taking another breath. "I... I'm sorry, Merri..." He looked at the ground, not even wanting to look at her while his thumb moved over his missing digit. Her eye twitched slightly, but she could only sigh, looking away from Iggy to give him some form of reprieve.

"It's Vayne", she corrected. "The answer's still 'no' to training with you."

Those were the last words he heard her speak to him until after school.

Caelus Middle School wasn't particularly impressive by any stretch of the imagination, but it was good enough to learn all sorts of subjects for both Heroes to be and those who wished to pursue more grounded careers. On the last day, however, being taught was the least of the class's worries - soon they would get into other schools. Many would go to Aurora High, taking on paths for new jobs. Others tried for lesser Hero schools, believing they had a better chance there. Only a select few would have the confidence to apply for Olympia and not feel ridiculed by the rest.

Among them, of course, were both Merriweather and Ignatius. Both had access to relatively flashy Quirks, with enough strength to at least be competent heroes within a few years of good training. And despite Vayne's change in attitude, both had enough determination to see their goals through. Neither was the best intellectually - Merri had troubles with Maths, and Iggy found it hard to understand History - but neither was particularly important for Heroics, thankfully.

"Settle down, class", an older, stout man with a gruff mustache waved his hand. "I know you're all excited for your Summer vacation, but there's one last thing we have to do regarding your applications." He had heard the groans of annoyance before they even began. "Yes, yes, I know. You'll go, one at a time, to see our school's counselor and briefly discuss your choices with them. There won't be any pressure for you to change your choice, we're just curious to know your thoughts."

With that matter settled, the teacher readjusted his tie. "We'll go in alphabetical order, the rest of you can enjoy a free period in the meantime." The mention of 'free period' immediately got the class in a rather loud uproar of fun and a few thrown papers. Iggy decided to lean back and relax until it was his turn, only glancing once or twice at his friend. Merriweather - no, Vayne - took out her sketchbook, flipping it onto a page with a costume. While he couldn't see any details, he did notice black and purple, just like her hair.

She glanced at him once, and that got him to stop peeking at her art. He already had enough problems with her today.

Eventually, Ignatius's turn came, and he was lead to the counselor's office. It wasn't a new path for him - multiple times that year, he had gone straight to that office after class, both to consolidate thoughts he might be having about his choices, and to form some new ones. Today could very well be his last day with the counselor, and he wasn't sure how to feel.

It was a problem when her immediate first question was one regarding his feelings related to his choice. Dr. Amara was nothing short of an understanding and smart woman - thirty years helping kids with choices that could impact their lives consolidated that - and yet all her questions were to the point and might sometimes be seen as hurtful from the outside.

"Completely honestly? Nervous", the redhead admitted, looking to the side of where he had sat to see a plaque regarding Dr. Amara's degree. "There's no doubt in my mind that I want to be a hero, and I know Olympia's the perfect place for it. But what if I fail?"

The older woman pursed her lips in thought, gray eyes analyzing him thoroughly and gaining a glint of green once she confirmed he was truthful. "That's what the other choices are for, right?" She asked of him, not a hint of teasing or deception, grayed blonde brows quirking as she looked at his body language closely.

He did always hate how well her bluntness worked.

"Those won't be as good, will they?" He asked back, a hint of sadness coming through his words. "Will I be able to be the best Hero I can be without a school like Olympia?" Another pause. Dr. Amara always liked to let the words of the students hang for a bit so they could understand what they had themselves said - perhaps they could find things on their own - but she used to pause less when it came to the redhead.

"Success isn't determined by the school you go to, you know", she replied in a soft, but still blunt tone. "In fact, many of the top 100 went to Lakeshine, not Olympia. Even Peacemaker herself, if I recall..."

The mention of the No. 1 caught Ignatius off guard. Sure, she wasn't some 'Symbol of Peace' nor did she have a perfect record like parts of the media tried to make the masses believe, but she earned her spot in Illinois for a reason, and any villain staring down her pure white outfit knew very well how it felt to be on the other side of her fist.

"You're not the carefree boy you were a year ago", the counselor continued. "Your mother tells me how hard you've worked with your Quirk, especially since then. How long can you fire it out for?"

He finally gained the courage to look at her, excited at the prospect of speaking about his Quirk. "About 30 seconds before my fingers start to burn. I think it's about double my limit from a year ago?" She nodded, allowing a smile to grace her face. "That's a lot of progress. Did you get any better at aiming it?" His excitement faded momentarily. "Well... I won't hit any tiny pens on the other side of the room, that's for sure..."

Both of them chuckled at the tiny joke, but quickly let it fade – last thing they needed was self-depreciation in the form of going too far with the jokes. However, it did mean Ignatius felt more at ease talking about his choice of heading to Olympia High. Even if he didn't make it, there was always a chance of being the Hero he wanted to be.

A heartfelt goodbye and number exchange – just in case he needed to talk to her – and Iggy made his way back to the classroom, where a few student groups had already formed. Most were content in discussing their choices, one or two even mentioning how they'd crush the entry exam for the Hero school they'd picked.

Once he was back in his seat, a kid his age craned his head back unnaturally, a part of his Quirk that Ignatius tried not to be unnerved by. "So, following in your mom's footsteps, are ya?" He grinned at the redhead. "What're you gonna call yourself? Scarlet Laser?"

He could only sigh in response, head shaking slowly as he leaned back and tried to ignore the fellow student. The day was already long enough without them trying to prod about his future. "Oh, how about 9-Volt? Y'know, plasma is basically lightning, and you got the nine fingers..." That got an angered stare out of the amber-eyed Iggy, who could swear was almost crushing his own hand trying not to throw a punch.

"Oops, struck a nerve, sorry!" The boy stuck out his tongue, chuckling before the conversation – monologue, really – was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Back off, Terrance." Merriweather's eyes bore into the soul of the intruding student, and he quickly knew to turn tail, at least when it came to staring.

"You two really did change since he left."

A sudden vacuum beside Ignatius and a loud thump interrupted the class. Caught by surprise, the teacher stood up, looking towards the fallen teen. "Mr. Williams, is everything okay?" He looked back at the black-haired girl, almost starting a snarl, before deciding to not push his luck.

"Yeah. Just fell." His voice was blunt as he picked himself up and settled into his seat. The teacher did figure something had happened, but with all the commotion and the boy being known for stirring up trouble, he thought it best not to pry for now.

The rest of the class was mostly a blur to the redhead. He and his friend – or was it former friend, now? - shared some glances a few times, particularly when it was her turn to leave towards the counselor, but they spoke little to no words, with the exception of acknowledgment when the the teacher called them for one matter or another.

Iggy was rather thankful that no other class was to be had that day – final tests had already come and gone; the only thing to really wait for was the entrance exams in a couple of months. He packed up his things, taking a final glance to Vayne – no, Merriweather – before leaving towards the entrance of Caelus Middle School, his last time there in what he hoped would be a long while.

He was stopped just before the bus stop by a familiar hand, causing him to turn in surprise, only to see the same face of the one who had helped him not long ago with the annoying classmate. Her expression was, however, a bit harder to read for the redhead than normal – he noted immediate displeasure, but also fear, uncertainty, and perhaps sadness. If there was an obvious point to her interrupting his walk home, he didn't see it.

"You ok?" Her very simple question caught him off guard. There was a time where that question came up often, but it had been more than a year since he last heard it from her mouth. Now, it felt alien, as if she'd never uttered the words before in her life.

But if there was a time to ask about himself and her, it was now.

"I'm scared." He didn't dare look into her eyes, once was enough. "Scared that I won't make it to Olympia, terrified of what could happen if I actually do make it. Angry at Terrance for bringing him up. Sad about... us." The black haired girl's head tilted at that last point. She knew full well what he meant, yet it still felt wrong coming from him. "Are we still friends, Merri... Vayne?" He finally asked, bluntly – maybe Dr. Amara was rubbing off on him.

If there was a time to not let the question hang over their heads, it was now. But even she didn't know the answer, it was a question she had thought of for far too long, harder than any question on any exam she had taken. If they were friends, she wasn't making it easy on him.

"When, not if, we go to Olympia", she started, trapping the redhead's attention with remarkable ease. "We'll show everybody who we are. We'll be the strongest there, even if we don't have the strongest Quirks." His amber-eyed stare got her face to twitch into the beginnings of a smile, but she curbed it. "And we'll show everyone we don't need anything or anyone else to be the best."

Iggy wasn't sure how to feel about her declaration. One thing was certain – she still didn't want to train with him, if the last bits were any indication. But she didn't seem committed to cutting off the platonic relationship, and that did relieve him slightly. He took a deep breath, finally turning away from the black-haired teen to avoid letting her see a single tear stream down his face as he made his way back to the bus stop.

"We'll keep in touch."

The bus home was rather uneventful for Ignatius. With the black-haired friend - was she a friend again now? - staying behind to eat lunch at the middle school, and the person next to him not wanting to make conversation, he took things easy, looking out the window towards nothing in particular, and trying not to think about the past.

Unfortunately, the past was all too ready to rear its head in a thought-filled day like this.

The smell of rust as his hands got more and more red. The pain of a fresh cut severing a part of him. The screams from his nearby friend, urging him to save, the sirens just outside the building. The gentle, trusting smile below himself as the light faded from-

"Dr. Hyde Street."

The call from the driver shook the redhead from his thoughts. He would have missed his stop if he spiraled further down, and while the walk from the next stop wouldn't have been too bad, he still would rather not continue down the dark path his brain tried to lead him through, especially when he had those thoughts mostly under control.

Instead, Iggy used the short time he had to walk to think about his near future. Olympia's entrance exams would be in about two months, giving him plenty of time to up his physical training and especially his Quirk training. His beams could be fired for quite a while, and they packed enough of a punch to be threatening to a great amount of Villains, but accuracy was always a concern, and he was far too aware of the issues he had with firing attacks behind him quickly.

Of course, he couldn't neglect his knowledge in the process. It was unfortunate that Merriweather refused the teen's help, as she'd be a great asset with the subject he lacked in most. It wasn't that History was boring to him, nor that he didn't understand any major events, but the dates always felt a bit fuzzy to him. In turn, he was rather good at Math, and could surely help the tall girl out.

He arrived home to a familiar, yet not unwelcome smell. It had been a rather uneventful day for Alicia, who took advantage of the fact that her shift was only in the morning to cook up a delicious lunch for herself - and her son, of course. While nowhere near as appetizing as her steaks, her chicken was nothing to scoff at, and this the redhead knew full well.

"Welcome home, dear", her voice comforted him a tad, a sore necessity after his long day thus far. "The rice's almost done – just a couple more minutes and we can eat together."

Silence came as a response, worrying his mother, but he shook his mind to actually respond. "I'll be there in a bit." Not a lie, yet not omitting the truth that thought he needed to be alone. She looked at him from the kitchen, having chanced a glance and regretting it immediately as he looked away and started towards the stairs.

The red-haired woman was grateful that Ignatius hadn't completely gone under the effect of a relapse. She had seen him for days at a time, practically catatonic to any sort of call of attention, whenever he brought himself into another episode. These furthered themselves over the year, but were no less potent each time, to her distress. Even Dr. Amara's splendid work had limits, and unfortunately, major trauma like that was one of them.

"Do you want to talk about it, Iggy?" Alicia started, trying to at least bring him back to some sense of reality. He wasn't that far off, but she still needed that reassurance.

"I saw him again", he started, biting his lip to avoid looking at her or anything else, focused entirely on his plate. "I... I thought I had gotten rid of these thoughts." The redhead appeared distraught, and this distressed his parent. She, too, had some experience with trauma, but hers had never come along this early.

They never disappear, she admitted, but only to herself. It was too soon to let that out to him. She instead reached out a hand, and squeezed his free one. Such a strong spirit, such a vibrant young teen, and the universe decided that he should suffer with a burden like this. Whenever she passed, she hoped to meet her maker, to give them a piece of her mind, and likely her burning, roaring fist.

Few other words could be said. Lunch was quicker than dinner last night, the only moments of distraction being talks about who else the redhead knew was going to Olympia – which of course included Merriweather. Alicia was thankful that they were on speaking terms again, at the very least.

Having tidied up the table, she went to the living room, sitting next to her son. He was tired. She didn't blame him. Her warmth helped put away the thoughts, and he leaned into her. Kissing his head, she helped him fall asleep, which took less time than the red-haired woman herself expected.

Her thoughts wandered just about everywhere she could imagine them to, from his worries to his friend to his pain, but they always slipped back into one particular idea – he would make a fantastic hero, one that could save many.

She hoped he could also save himself.

A/N: I've had this one cooking for a bit. I'm not sure this is a super unique story, but I still want to tell it and have some fun with the world that was built in the manga. Template to submit a character is in my profile.