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Chapter 02: Her Story

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In the early days of her childhood, Izuku lived with her mother in the quaint town of Mustafu. From the very beginning, everyone assumed that she could not talk. She was often quiet, observing the world around her with wide, curious eyes, while her mother, Inko, worried silently.

One day, they visited the doctor, a kindly man who had been monitoring Izuku's development closely. He greeted them warmly as they entered his office.

"Hello, Inko. And how's our little Izuku today?" he asked, bending down to Izuku's level with a smile.

Izuku beamed back, her silence as radiant as ever.

Inko took a deep breath, glancing nervously at the doctor. "Doctor, I'm worried. Izuku still isn't talking. Is there something wrong?"

The doctor shook his head reassuringly. "Inko, I've been observing Izuku for a while now. I believe there's a strong possibility that her Quirk, her special power, will awaken soon. And I think it might have something to do with her voice."

Inko's eyes widened. "Really? You think her Quirk could explain why she hasn't spoken yet?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes. Some children develop Quirks later than others, and it's not uncommon for them to manifest in unique ways. Her silence might be linked to her Quirk. We should remain hopeful."

'Mute' Izuku, listening to the conversation, felt a flutter of happiness. Her friend Bakugou had begun to play with her more often after they told him that she might have a power very soon.

Bakugou, a fiery and confident boy, had always been a little rough around the edges. When they first met, he misunderstood her quiet nature and started calling her 'Deku,' which meant 'useless' or 'someone who can't do anything.'

"Hey, Deku," Bakugou would say, puffing out his chest. "You better get your Quirk soon, or you'll never catch up to me!"

Izuku never minded the nickname. She smiled at him, thinking, 'Soon, he'll be calling me by my real name.'

But that time never came.

As the dsys passed, Izuku's silence remained, and her Quirk stayed dormant. Despite this, she clung to the hope the doctor had given her. Every day, she waited for the moment when she could speak and reveal her true power. Until then, she endured the nickname and Bakugou's teasing with patience, believing that one day, she would prove herself.

It happened when Izuku was just 5 years old. She was playing with Bakugou and a few other kids in the park. The afternoon sun cast long shadows as they ran around, their laughter echoing through the air. Suddenly, a boy accidentally bumped into Bakugou and punched him in the face.

Bakugou's eyes flared with fury as he spun around to face the boy, his hands already crackling with tiny explosions. The boy, realizing his mistake, backed away in fear.

"Please, I'm sorry!" the boy begged, tears streaming down his face. "Don't hurt me!"

Bakugou's lackeys, always eager to follow his lead, moved in closer, grinning maliciously. "Yeah, you're gonna pay for that!" one of them sneered.

Izuku, watching the scene unfold, felt a surge of panic. She ran over, desperately trying to intervene. She tugged at Bakugou's arm, her eyes pleading with him. But she couldn't speak. Not a single word came out.

Bakugou shoved her away roughly. "Stay out of this, Deku!" he growled, his eyes locked on the trembling boy.

Just as Bakugou was about to release an explosion inches from the boy's face, Izuku felt a strange sensation in her throat. Desperation gave her strength, and for the first time in her life, she found her voice.

"Stop!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

Bakugou froze, his hands still crackling with energy. Not just his motions stopped, but his entire body seemed to be locked in place.

The other kids gasped, looking between Izuku and Bakugou in shock. "Did you see that?" one of the lackeys whispered. "She stopped him with a word!"

"She talked!" another exclaimed. "Izuku talked!"

But Izuku's eyes were fixed on Bakugou, who stood immobile, his eyes wide and filling with tears—not of anger or frustration, but of fear and pain. She realized with a sinking feeling what she had done.

"Move!" she cried, her voice trembling.

Bakugou fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his body limp and unresponsive.

Later that night, in the sterile white walls of the hospital, the doctor spoke in hushed tones to Inko and Izuku. "The boy's circulatory and respiratory systems were temporarily blocked," he explained. "If he had stayed in that state for more than a few seconds longer, he would have died from lack of oxygen and blood circulation."

Inko clutched Izuku tightly, her face pale. 'We have to leave,' Izuku signed, tears streaming down her cheeks. 'We have to move away from Mustafu.'

Understanding the gravity of the situation, her mother agreed. They packed their belongings and left the town behind, seeking a new start where the memories and the fear couldn't haunt them.

Izuku never saw her best friend again. The pain of that day stayed with her, a constant reminder of the power she carried and the burden it brought. But she vowed to learn control, to use her gift to protect, not harm. Even if it meant starting all over, away from the life she had known.

Izuku's time in elementary school was far from easy. She was seen as the creepy girl who stayed away from everyone. No one ever saw her speak, and they never knew what her Quirk was. Because of this, many assumed she had mental problems. Despite these assumptions, Izuku excelled in her studies and was the best athlete in the school. Her remarkable achievements only fueled the jealousy and dislike of a few girls in her class.

One day, after swimming class, Izuku headed to the ladies' washroom to take a shower. The steam filled the room as she washed away the chlorine, lost in her thoughts. She finished up and reached for her towel, wrapping it around herself before stepping out into the changing area. But when she looked for her clothes, they were nowhere to be found.

Panic set in. She searched every corner of the washroom, checking the lockers and even the trash cans, but her clothes were gone. Completely vanished. As she frantically searched, a mocking voice broke the silence.

"Lil' 'Zuku-chan lookin' for her lil' filthy clothes?" The voice was dripping with mockery.

Izuku froze, her heart pounding. She recognized that voice. It belonged to one of the girls who had always been particularly cruel to her. The voice was soon joined by others, and laughter erupted from outside the washroom.

Tears welled up in Izuku's eyes. She felt a lump in her throat, and the familiar sensation of helplessness washed over her. She curled up in the corner, bending her knees to her chin, trying to make herself as small as possible. She stayed there for hours, shivering, scared, and alone.

Eventually, the police arrived. They found her huddled in the corner, still wrapped in her towel, tears staining her cheeks. They called her mother, who rushed to the school, her heart breaking at the sight of her daughter.

Inko knelt beside Izuku, pulling her into a tight embrace. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered comforting words. "It's okay, Izuku. I'm here now. It's going to be okay."

Izuku clung to her mother, her body trembling. She spotted the girls who had tormented her standing at a distance. They were watching, their faces a mixture of defiance and fear. One of them mouthed silently, "Don't speak our names, or else…"

Izuku felt a surge of anger. She wanted to shout, to command them to stop breathing, to make them feel the same helplessness she had felt. But she didn't. She couldn't. She knew the power her words held now, and she couldn't bring herself to use it in anger.

Instead, she remained silent. She never told anyone what had happened or who was responsible. She buried the pain deep inside, determined to endure it alone.

That night, as she lay in bed, her mother sat beside her, stroking her hair. "Izuku, if you ever need to talk, if you ever need to tell me anything, you can. I'm here for you."

Izuku nodded, her eyes closed. She knew her mother meant well, but she also knew that some burdens were hers alone to bear. She vowed to herself that she would rise above the cruelty, that she would become strong enough to protect herself and others. And maybe, she would find a way to use her power for good, without causing harm.

When Izuku entered middle school, her reputation as the top student preceded her. Everyone wanted to meet the girl who excelled in academics and athletics. On the first day, students eagerly gathered around her, expecting to find a confident and articulate leader.

"Hey, you're Izuku, right?" one boy asked, smiling. "I heard you're the best in our class. What's your secret?"

Izuku looked at him, her face expressionless. "Salmon," she said softly.

The boy blinked in confusion. "Uh, what?"

Another girl chimed in, trying to engage her. "We're thinking of forming a study group. Would you like to join us?"

Izuku hesitated, then responded, "Bonito Flakes."

The girl frowned. "What does that even mean?"

The students exchanged puzzled glances. As the days went by, their curiosity turned to frustration. Whenever they tried to talk to her, Izuku would respond with strange words like "Kelp" or "Mustard Leaf." No one understood her peculiar language, and their initial excitement faded into disappointment.

"She's so weird," a boy muttered to his friend. "What's with all the fish stuff?"

"Yeah, I thought she was supposed to be a genius," another girl replied. "But she can't even have a normal conversation."

Isolated once again, Izuku found herself without friends. She spent her days quietly excelling in her studies, avoiding the groups of chatting classmates in the hallways. At lunch, she would sit alone, her tray untouched as she stared out the window, lost in thought.

Despite her achievements, the other students couldn't look past her odd behavior. Rumors spread that she had mental problems or that she was just plain creepy. They avoided her, giving her a wide berth in the corridors.

During gym class, while others chatted and laughed, Izuku focused solely on the activities. Her athletic prowess was undeniable, but her lack of social interaction kept her apart. Even when she outperformed everyone, it didn't earn her any admiration or friendship—only more alienation.

"Did you see her run that lap?" one girl whispered. "She's like a machine."

"Yeah, but she's still a freak," her friend replied. "Who cares how fast she is?"

Izuku overheard their whispers but pretended not to. She had grown used to the loneliness, the misunderstandings, and the isolation. She knew her Quirk set her apart, made her different. And while she longed for companionship, she was terrified of what her voice could do if she let it slip.

In the quiet moments, she would think back to Bakugou and the friends she had lost. She wondered if she would ever find a place where she belonged, where she could be herself without fear. For now, she kept her head down, focused on her goals, and stayed silent except for her few, cryptic words.

"Salmon," she would murmur to herself as she tackled another math problem. "Kelp," she whispered when she finished a particularly tough assignment.

In a world where words held power, Izuku chose silence, hoping that one day, she could use her voice to become the hero she always dreamed of being. But middle school, with its harsh judgments and cruel whispers, was just another hurdle she had to overcome on her solitary journey.

It took a few years for her classmates and teachers to realize that Izuku could speak a few words without hesitation because they had no effect on her surroundings or anyone. These words were:

- "Salmon" for yes.

- "Tuna" for no.

- "Bonito flakes" for danger.

- "Mustard leaf" for surprise.

- "Caviar" for understood.

- "Salmon roe" for attention.

- "Takana" for attack.

It happened gradually, almost imperceptibly. During her first year of middle school, the other students were still confused by her odd vocabulary. But over time, they began to notice patterns.

"Hey, Izuku, do you want to join us for a project?" a girl asked one day after class.

Izuku looked up from her notebook and replied, "Salmon."

The girl blinked, then smiled. "Great! I'll put you down for the science project, then."

Another time, during a fire drill, a boy noticed Izuku tense up and whisper, "Bonito flakes."

"What did she say?" he asked his friend, but before they could ponder further, the fire alarm blared, and they had to evacuate. Later, he realized she had been trying to warn them about the impending drill.

Slowly, they began to piece it together. During a surprise pop quiz, Izuku's muttered "Mustard leaf" caught their attention. They figured out it meant surprise. When a teacher asked if everyone understood the new concept in math, and Izuku said "Caviar," they noticed she seemed to follow along just fine.

One day, during PE, a group of boys was planning a friendly soccer match. They approached Izuku, who was sitting on the sidelines, and asked, "Izuku, are you going to play?"

"Takana," she replied, standing up and heading towards the field.

A boy on the sidelines nudged his friend. "I think that means attack. She's going to join the game!"

As they deciphered her unique language, a subtle shift occurred. While she still didn't have close friends, there was a level of understanding that hadn't been there before. They stopped mocking her as much and started respecting the boundaries of her communication.

However, there were still those who didn't like her for being different and for excelling despite her quirks. They didn't miss any opportunity to make her feel out of place.

As the end of middle school approached, Izuku found herself reflecting on the past few years. Despite being admired by many for her academic prowess and athletic ability, she didn't have any real friends. Her peculiar way of speaking and her silent demeanor had kept her isolated.

Everyone was preparing for high school, and most of her classmates had set their sights on UA High School, the prestigious academy for aspiring heroes. However, after struggling with the mock tests, many of them began to lose hope.

But not Izuku. She had never failed an exam and excelled in each one. She was determined to get into UA, no matter what it took. She prepared herself physically for the practical exam, running 10 kilometers every morning and evening, practicing yoga, meditating, and doing breathing exercises. Through sheer dedication, she eventually mastered control over her Quirk. Her mother always supported her, encouraging her every step of the way.

On the day of the UA entrance exam, Izuku's resolve was unshakeable. She performed flawlessly, her determination and hard work shining through. Now, she found herself standing on the bus ride back home, her thoughts racing.

She had to face him—the boy she almost killed in her childhood… Bakugou.

As she looked out the window, memories flooded back. She remembered that day vividly: Bakugou, his hands crackling with explosive energy, ready to harm a terrified boy, and her desperate attempt to stop him. Her first word, "Stop," had frozen him in place, nearly killing him. Since that moment, she had vowed never to use her power in anger again. But now, as she faced the prospect of seeing Bakugou again at UA High School, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

Would he remember what happened all those years ago? Would he hold a grudge against her for nearly ending his life? Izuku's heart raced with apprehension as the bus rumbled on, bringing her closer to the inevitable confrontation.

But despite her fears, Izuku remained resolute. She had worked too hard to let anything stand in the way of her dreams of becoming a hero. She would face Bakugou, confront her past, and prove to herself—and to him—that she was worthy of being at UA.

As the bus pulled up to her stop, Izuku stepped off. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she was ready to face them head-on. With her mother's unwavering support and her control over her power, Izuku was prepared to take on whatever fate had in store for her at UA High School

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TBC

Author Note: Since you guys supported the story, I am continuing to write it. Tell me, how would like the story to develop.

Till next time!