Hi! So just to make sure you get my answers to your reviews, check your inboxes. I can be quite wordy when I respond to questions, and with how long I take between chapters, I don't want you to have to scroll through thousands of words of my replies before you can get to the actual story.

In any case, I hope you enjoy! Please remember that any questions are welcome.

"Wait in Recovery Girl's office. I have some business to attend to quickly, and then we can talk," Toshinori instructed Izuku, his tone offhand but reassuring.

Izuku nodded eagerly and scurried off, leaving All Might alone in the hallway. As soon as the boy was out of sight, he let his shoulders fall and his neutral face turn to a glower. He ascended the steps to his office, each footfall heavier than usual.

Sir Nighteye was already waiting inside, pacing the floor, his usually professional demeanor seemed slightly erratic. His eyes darted toward All Might the moment he entered. "That took longer than expected," he noted, his gaze sharp with curiosity. "What happened?"

All Might took a breath, collecting his thoughts. "I had to talk down Shishido," he said, not entirely sure how to phrase the situation. "The girl who attacked Midoriya is part of his hero agency."

Nighteye stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing as he processed that information. With a heavy sigh, he sank into the nearest couch. "I didn't expect Shishido to get tangled up in something like this. I thought he'd rather distance himself from the situation than protect someone who assaulted a civilian."

"That was my initial thought too," All Might replied, taking a seat across from him. "But Shishido's focus is on appearances—he's determined to paint himself as one of the good ones. He wants to appear spotless, this allows him to push the narrative that heteromorphic quirks shouldn't be blamed when someone acts out. He's trying to protect the group by emphasizing that these incidents are individual mistakes, not genetic flaws. If he can be perfect, so can any other mutant."

Nighteye rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's a more palatable to the average person than Gang Orca's approach. Orca tries to highlight the prejudice mutants face, but his aggressive stance often backfires. Still, Shishido risking his reputation to cover this up is dangerous for him. If it ever gets out that he's shielding an assailant, it could destroy everything he's worked for."

All Might nodded gravely.

Nighteye paused. "So, what did Shishido want?"

All Might let out a small sigh. "He wanted Midoriya's friend fined for illegal quirk use and was pushing to have the boy arrested for villainy."

Nighteye's eyebrow rose. "Did he use his quirk?"

"He did, but only as a display of intimidation. No one was hurt," All Might explained. "Still, it's technically illegal quirk use."

"Which gives Shishido leverage," Nighteye concluded.

"Yes," All Might agreed, leaning back in his chair. "But I managed to convince him to have her drop the charges."

"And how did you manage that?" Nighteye asked.

All Might let out a small embarrassed cough. "I made it clear that if the charges weren't dropped, this would go public. The court of public opinion would be brutal, especially so because she's a mutant, and Shishido knows it."

Nighteye crossed his arms, considering this. "And the girl?"

"She walks away without charges too," All Might admitted, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I would've preferred if she faced consequences for her actions, but protecting Midoriya in this situation required both sides to agree that this never happened."

For a moment, silence filled the room as the weight of the decision hung between them. Nighteye tapped his fingers on the armrest of the couch before speaking again. "And Midoriya? How is he handling this?"

All Might sighed. "He says he's fine. But..." His voice trailed off as he thought of Izuku, the memory of the boy's worried expression as Toshinori found him waiting in the police station had given him no small amount of anger. "He was more concerned for for his friend than anything else. That's just how he is."

Nighteye gave a small nod, though there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Midoriya might appear fine with it for now, but we should keep an eye on him. He's like you, I find it very likely that he'll internalize this encounter and avoid admitting how it's effected him for the sake of others."

All Might didn't respond, but the gut feeling of unease grew stronger. He felt it pushing him to make a decision he was hoping to still postpone for a while.

Nighteye's gaze sharpened, his keen eyes picking up on the shift in All Might's demeanor. "You're thinking of giving him One for All, aren't you?"

All Might blinked in surprise, but quickly realized he shouldn't be shocked—his old friend had always been able to read him like a book. He nodded, "I am."

"Why? Is it because you think it will protect him from situations like this going forward?" Sir Nighteye probed, leaning forward with a serious look. "That isn't realistic. This assault would have happened anyway, he'd just be charged for villainy like his friend instead of just the criminal charge of assaulting a hero."

"I know, still, I would prefer him being able to defend himself in cases where there isn't someone nearby to protect him." All Might argued. "I'm also not happy that he's linked to me with a paper trail now, the HPSC is likely trying their hardest to track down my potential successor. If one of them stumbles onto this case, then it won't be long until they connect the dots."

Sir Nighteye nodded. "I guess that is fair. Although what do you think the HPSC will even do if they discover him?"

"Aside from using it as leverage against me?" All Might explained. "I'm worried they'll try to manipulate him. They could twist him into someone like Nagant."

Nighteye's nose crinkled in distaste. "You think Midoriya has that in him? To become someone like her?"

All Might's voice grew quieter, more somber. "I met Nagant before her training. She was more like Midoriya than you'd think."

Sir Nighteye raised his hand as if to stop All Might. "I'll admit I've never met her, but I find that hard to believe. Regardless of that, what about the other candidates for One for All?"

"They all have quirks." All Might explained, the implications obvious. "The only exception being Melissa, but I agree with Nezu that having a local Japanese successor is better than giving more power to the United States. They don't exactly need it, and I'm one of the few big canons in Japan's arsenal."

After a moment, Nighteye asked, "And Mirio?"

"Mirio doesn't need One for All to achieve his dreams," All Might said. "Midoriya does."

"Any bruises, young man?"

Chiyo Shuzenji, better known as Recovery Girl, was a short, stout woman whose age and gentle demeanor gave her the appearance of a sweet old lady. Unlike her more sadistic old friend, Gran Torino, she usually acted the part as well.

Her office in Might Tower spanned an entire floor, more like a miniature highly funded hospital than a typical medical office. Today, Izuku and Recovery Girl stood in the examination room, and something felt off. The usual layout was changed—the examination table now sat near the open door instead of its usual spot against the far wall. Izuku was expecting her to ask him to take off his shirt for a physical inspection as was usual, but she hadn't, she instead began with small talk and was only beginning to ask questions about his condition now.

"Uh, no. Not that I'm aware of," Izuku replied, noticing how unusually distant she was. Normally, she'd be close enough to tap him in the shin or over his head with her cane over a bad joke or unwise comment. It was empowering in a small way—without the threat of a harmless whack, he could say anything he wanted.

"At this point, I'm not surprised," she mumbled, retrieving his file from the far desk. It too had been moved, although it seemed to have been done in a hurry. It wasn't even placed conveniently, and its slightly skewed and off-center position bothered Izuku slightly, though he tried to ignore it.

"And your leg? Torino mentioned you pulled a muscle. How is it now?"

Izuku flexed his leg and winced at the sharp stinging in the muscle. "Still sore."

She nodded, staring at the file, but Izuku could see her eyes weren't scanning the page, she wasn't reading. She wasn't exactly staring blankly, she appeared focused as if trying to find the words for her next question.

"And last night?" she asked carefully. "You were able to run, correct?"

Izuku found her hesitance strange. "I guess? More of a limp-run, but yeah, I could run."

Another slow nod.

"And you're sure you didn't get hurt during the... attack?"

Now Izuku understood why she was walking on eggshells. The room's reorganization, her distance—it all made sense. A mix of gratitude and frustration swirled inside his head.

"I'm not that fragile, you know?"" He could tell his words reached her, by the fact that she immediately closed his file to focus on the conversation. Maybe getting to this point was what she was hoping for. "I know I'm quirkless, so physically, sure, I'm weaker than anyone with a quirk. But I'm not emotionally fragile."

Recovery Girl took a seat, letting him continue without interruption.

"I know I cry. A lot." He admitted. "But it's not the same as everyone else, I just show emotions that way. I'm not actually overwhelmed with emotions when I cry. In reality it's something I get from my mother, the green hair and overactive tears are both from her side of the family."

He gripped the seat, he felt tears welling up and was worried that crying now would just negate everything he was about to say.

"I've lived my whole life, being treated as fragile."

(I wish I had a quirk)

"I know it's because I'm quirkless. I'm weaker, easier to hurt, I have slower reaction times and even if I know it's not true I have overheard so many people imply I'm dumber for it too. Even if they mean well, the amount of time's I've heard people say 'Imagine if he had a quirk' when I do something well has been really, really hard. I'm tired of it."

Izuku took a breathe to force the tears down.

"And now, after all this training, after Mr. Toshinori saw something in me, after he looked past my quirklessness, my powerlessness and gave me a chance. After all my progress, I'm confronted again with how powerless I am in the face of someone with a quirk. I couldn't do anything against her."

Izuku gulped, losing the fight against the tears.

"I just don't know what you all see in me. I'm being trained by All Might's original trainer, I get regular check ups with THE Recovery Girl, I don't even know why Mr. Toshinori has as much influence as he does, but he stood up to Shishido, for me. I don't know why I deserve so much! I'm just a quirkless boy, I'm not going to be able to be a hero. I'm USELESS!"

The dam burst with the final shout, tears spilling down his face. Panic set in immediately as he wiped at his face with his sleeves, trying to stop the flood.

Recovery Girl remained silent. She wrestled with what to say, torn between her sympathy for the boy's pain and the harsh reality she understood all too well. His desire to be a hero was genuine, but expecting a quirkless teenage boy to train hard enough to become a hero—it was a path to burnout. In her mind, this latest unsavory encounter with a violent mutant was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

Fortunately, the open door allowed someone else to overhear the young man's distress. Toshinori approached the room quietly, but Recovery Girl met him with a sharp look—a clear expression of disappointment. She blamed him, in part, for putting so much weight on Izuku's shoulders.

He took her reproach in stride, offering her a small, knowing smile along with a casual wave. Somehow, she understood. By the end of the day, the boy would likely feel better—but it didn't erase the fact that this road would only get harder for him.

"Mr. Toshinori, I..." Izuku began slowly, unsure how to apologize for his earlier outburst. To help him pursue his dreams, his mentor had given him every resource Izuku could imagine and more. Izuku's outburst probably made it seem that it was all for nothing. In the professional culture of Japan, Izuku might just as well have spat in the elderly man's face.

Although Japanese work culture had become more relaxed over time, traditional work culture was still strong in large businesses like Might Tower. And with Toshinori's formal demeanor and strict appearance, Izuku felt he seemed like a man that valued such traditions. Even if he wore clothing that seemed a few sizes too big.

After walking in on Izuku crying in the examination room, Toshinori had simply asked him to come along for a talk. The whole car ride had been silent. Toshinori's lean frame remained still, his eyes fixed in a frown that Izuku couldn't read—was it just his resting expression, or was he disappointed? The absence of Toshinori's usual grandfatherly smile and their casual conversation made the silence all the more oppressive.

"I want to apologize." He finished, shocked to see a look of guilt flash across the large mans face. Though it quickly vanished into the resting frown Izuku couldn't decipher.

"No need, young man." Toshinori replied quietly, steering the car into a parking lot. Izuku blinked in surprise as they pulled up to a small shopping center. He glanced around at the modest storefronts. "If anything, I should be apologizing."

The concept stunned Izuku long enough that he didn't speak for the rest of the ride. Toshinori parked, turned off the engine, and opened his door

"Come on, out you get," he said, leaning heavily on the car's frame as he rose from the seat. The vehicle rocked slightly under his weight as his tall figure unfolded.

Izuku quickly followed, pushing open the passenger door and stepping out. He glanced up at the name of the store in front of him.

Itamae's Old Style Family Dinner

The name took him by surprise. A place like this was rare in the city. "Old Style" often meant they didn't cater to people with quirk-related dietary restrictions, which some viewed as discriminatory. Even non-mutants could have unique allergies or special dietary needs, after all.

Toshinori was already at the entrance, speaking to a server about a table for two. Realizing he was lagging behind, Izuku hurried to catch up and followed him inside.

The best word Izuku could think of to describe the restaurant was "cozy." The red-and-white checkered walls and striped furniture, combined with black-and-white tiled floors, reminded him of the classic western diners he'd seen in old pre-quirk American movies. There was something simple and welcoming about it.

The server led them to a booth at the back of the diner, where Toshinori could sit comfortably with his long legs stretched out without blocking the walkway. After they were seated, she handed them two laminated menus.

But before Izuku could open his, Toshinori gently raised a hand. "Sorry, miss, we won't need those today," he said with a polite smile. "Just drinks, and I already know what we're having."

The server blinked in mild confusion, but smiled professionally as she tucked the menus under her arm. "Of course, sir. What can I get for you?"

"I'll have one of Itamae's special brews, and for him"—he nodded toward Izuku—"a cream soda float. The one with the sprinkles."

The server winced, her smile faltering. "I'm sorry, sir. We can't do that order."

Toshinori's brow furrowed in surprise. "You don't make floats anymore?"

"It's not that..." The server hesitated, her tone softening. "Itamae—well, the older Itamae—he passed away a few months ago. His granddaughter runs the place now."

"Ah..." Toshinori's face briefly tightened, and for a split second Izuku saw a sadness the reminded him how hold the man really was, it was if for the first time we was seeing the wrinkles in the mans brow and under his eyes.

But just as quickly, Toshinori seemed to bury the feeling beneath a bittersweet smile. "I see... well, in that case, I'll have a regular black americano. Thank you."

The server returned his smile with a somber nod before hurrying back toward the kitchen. As her footsteps faded, the quiet tension that had accompanied them since the car ride returned. Izuku felt it settle between them like an unseen weight.

Toshinori cleared his throat. "Like I said earlier, young man," he began, his voice measured. "I think I owe you an apology."

Izuku blinked. "No, no, I don't—" he started, but Toshinori raised a hand to stop him.

"Yes, I do." His tone was firm yet gentle. "You've been under a lot of pressure lately, and I haven't been as clear with you as I should've been."

Izuku frowned, tilting his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Toshinori sighed, leaning back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "That's... something I'll explain once we get back to Might Tower. For now, I wanted to take this moment to treat you to something nice to make up for yesterday and as a reward for all your hard work over the past months. But also to remind you of a few important things."

Izuku leaned forward, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"First," Toshinori said, his gaze unwavering, "I have full confidence in your potential to be a hero. I've always believed in you." He paused for emphasis "Second, that confidence stems from who you are, from what I see in here." He leaned forward, reaching across the table with a bony arm to deliver a firm poke above where his heart would be. "Not how strong you are. A hero isn't defined by their strength, and you know that."

Izuku nodded slowly, absorbing the words like a sponge.

"And finally," Toshinori continued, a warm smile breaking unto his face as he reclined yet again, "I'm proud of you, young man. No matter what happens. Whether you become a hero or not doesn't change the fact that you're a good kid—and that's what truly matters."

As the praise washed over him, Izuku felt a warm flush creep up his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

"Thanks, I guess." He didn't know what else to say, it was a rare moment for the green haired teen to get a compliment like that.

"All Might agrees with me, by the way," Toshinori added, not even trying to hide a hearty chuckle as Izuku's expression morphed from happy embarrassment to gobsmacked.

"A-All Might knows about me?" Izuku gasped, nearly bouncing out of his seat in excitement.

"Longer than you know," Toshinori replied with a knowing smile. "In fact, once we get back to the tower, you're going to have the chance to meet him."

"HEEHHH!?" Izuku let out a surprised yell, only to immediately flinch as a handful of other customers began complaining about the noise. His face flushed in embarrassment. As much as he wanted to sink into his seat and disappear, the excitement of meeting All Might knew no bounds.

Moments later he was distracted from the embarrassment, as his attention was drawn to the enormous cream soda float placed in front of him. The sheer size of it left him wide-eyed. It appeared the old western family diner inspired interior wasn't just for show, this diner served American-sized portions too.

"Tea?" The beady eyes of the rodent principal gleamed with false sincerity as he made the offer. He knew his guests would likely reject it—it was what they were trained to do, after all. Say what you will about the HPSC, they produce well-behaved lapdogs.

He had expected them to send an envoy to discuss his recent activities, but Nezu couldn't help but wonder what else might be at play. Could this be a distraction while agents snooped around his construction sites? Unlikely. Madam President had survived decades in her position—such amateurish tactics would be beneath her. For the same reason, intimidation could be ruled out.

At the end of it, Nezu wasn't particularly concerned. There was little, if anything, the HPSC could do at this point except hurl mean words through public media.

What did catch his attention, however, was the individual seated at the center of the room—the clear senior of the two agents. His bandaged appearance, a hybrid of a mummy and a burn victim, tugged at Nezu's memory.

Kido. Nezu recognized him. The man had once been one of Endeavor's sidekicks before the flaming hero had traded his ambition for another obsession. It was unexpected to see a familiar face—mask, rather. Nezu had thought Kido had retired. It seemed he had gone underground to work directly for the government.

Next to the hero was the pitiful sight of an exhausted intern, barely managing to keep himself upright and showing an almost desperate interest in the tea.

"Does the tea have any caffeine in it?" the intern asked, his voice hoarse and strained.

Nezu nodded pleasantly. "Today, I've made Oolong tea. It does have caffeine—though not as much as black tea."

The intern stood up hurriedly and approached the large desk as if he had been stranded in a desert and was being offered water. "Then I'd love some. Anything to help me stay awake."

As Nezu poured the tea, he threw a brief glance at Kido, who remained motionless and quiet. That wasn't unusual—he had heard the man had a reserved demeanor. What bothered Nezu was how the hero had apparently pushed his aide so far that the young man seemed ready to fall asleep at any moment.

"So, I assume Madam President sent you?" Nezu inquired, pushing the cup toward the intern, who eagerly drank the tea. Kido didn't respond, appearing subtly confused, if not slightly off-put, by the direct address.

The reaction caused the hair on Nezu's back to rise. Something was wrong. Had he misjudged the situation?

His mind raced, piecing together every piece of knowledge about human behavior in his head. Kido was giving him the cold shoulder—why? Coldness implied hostility or indifference, but neither made sense in this context. The HPSC didn't send envoys to be defensive—there was no purpose for it here.

And then there was the intern. Why was the junior agent acting so desperately, with no sign of care from Kido? It made no sense unless this had been pre-arranged to throw Nezu off. But why would the HPSC want to antagonize him?

Nezu's rapid calculations concluded just as the "intern" finished the tea in a few quick gulps and returned to his seat.

"Oh no, she wasn't informed of my little expedition," the man admitted casually, setting the empty cup down. "Though, she'll probably be in the know before I get back."

"Who are you?" Nezu blurted, suddenly realizing he had misread the chain of command. The "intern" wasn't a subordinate—he was the one in charge.

A dangerous man, too. He had deliberately misled Nezu, just to surprise him and throw him off balance. All to make sure Nezu knew that he understood how the rodent thought—and that he was fully capable of exploiting it.

All signs of tiredness vanished from the man's face as he sat down again. Either the small amount of caffeine had worked wonders, or the exhaustion had been an act.

"Yokumiru Mera," the man said. "I'm part of Madam President's cabinet."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Mera." Nezu smiled. "You said Madam President doesn't yet know of your visit to me? Despite you being a part of her inner circle? Why is that?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with how she operates?" Mera replied. "If I'd given her due warning of this trip, she would've forced me to take a chaperone loyal to her, rather than let me choose someone like Kido, who hasn't declared any loyalties within the Commission." He gestured to Kido. "I wanted to talk freely instead of being forced to dance to her tune. And I want to say a few things I'd rather she not hear."

Nezu nodded, giving Mera a thoughtful smile.

"I'm impressed," Nezu began. "It's a bold move, but is it wise? From what I understand, Madam President runs a tight ship. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already started making moves to remove you from her circle by the time you return. What could be so important that you'd risk that just to tell me?"

"That right there." Mera pointed at Nezu, before resting his hand in his lap again. "I figured you wouldn't know what's been happening in the Commission, so I came to inform you. Madam President isn't as powerful as she once was. Ever since you pulled U.A. out from under our wing, rumors have been flying that she's lost All Might's support. People who once feared opposing her are forming factions, though none of them are quite ready to challenge her yet."

Mera rubbed his eyes, the signs of exhaustion returning. It appeared not all of it had been an act.

"The few people with enough influence to replace her are still in her corner—myself included. It's safer for now, since none of the splinter factions are strong enough to rival her. But she knows if she pushes me out, I'll be forced to join one of those factions. If that happens, the other candidates will leave her side to prevent me from gaining too much of an advantage."

"So, she's forced to tolerate your disobedience for the time being?" Nezu said, eyes gleaming with interest. "Impressive, but I wonder why you'd want to meet with me. You have no loyalty to me. Why reveal all of this unless you have another reason? What I'm saying is, you have me hooked, I want to hear what you have to say."

"I'm glad I have your ear, then." Mera smiled. "But first, I want to mention that still want to get the information and assurances that Madam President is looking for, is it fine if we do that after this?"

Nezu nodded. "Within limit, yes."

"Ha!" The man chuckled. "I was hoping you'd be a bit more amiable, but that will do. In any case, I wanted to bring your attention to some potential business partners that you might want to add to your roster of sponsors. They've been good to me, and I'm sure they'll be good to you."

"Do tell." Nezu grinned. "More tea?"

"I won't say no." The man chuckled.

Izuku was worried he might pass out. The joy bubbling up inside him was barely contained, threatening to explode as he vibrated in his seat.

A seat in THE All Might's office.

All the times he'd been inside Might Tower, he'd never even come close to this room. He'd seen it on the floor directory, and despite knowing that it was rarely used, just being in the same building as All Might's office had always been enough to fill him with excitement.

But now... Now he was inside it. Waiting to meet his childhood hero.

He felt a bit self-conscious about how excited he was, especially with Mr. Toshinori pacing around the room.. The way the man walked up and down made Izuku think he might be nervous about introducing him to All Might.

He didn't want to let him down.

The soft ping of the elevator echoed through the hall, and Izuku swung around in his seat, eyes locked on the open office doors. A pang of disappointment hit when it wasn't All Might who appeared. That disappointment, however, quickly vanished when he realized it was the next best person—Sir Nighteye, All Might's longest-serving sidekick.

The tall man strode briskly down the hallway, and by the time Izuku was halfway out of his seat to greet him, Sir Nighteye had already closed the distance.

"H-hi!" Izuku greeted, barely managing the confidence to stick out his hand for a handshake, suddenly self-conscious about whether his palm was sweaty. "I'm—"

"Izuku Midoriya," Sir Nighteye finished smoothly, taking his hand in a firm grip. His eyes glowed in multicolored hues as he looked directly into Izuku's eyes. "I'm well aware, young man. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"A pleasure?" Izuku blinked in confusion, but Sir Nighteye had already shifted his focus and released his hand. The sidekick's gaze moved past him as he asked, "Ready to start, Sir?"

"Sir?" Izuku echoed, feeling even more lost. All Might hadn't entered the room yet. He followed Sir Nighteye's gaze, only to find Mr. Toshinori nodding in response to the sidekick's words. The older man gave Izuku a warm smile before gesturing toward the couches.

"Come sit, young man."

Izuku hesitated for a moment, his heart sinking as worry set in as he moved to the couches. As he sat down on the nearest couch, his mind whirled with questions.

Was All Might not going to show up? Why was Mr. Toshinori considered more senior than Sir Nighteye?

Both men standing while he sat only heightened his anxiety.

"Young Midoriya," Mr. Toshinori began, his tone more serious than usual. "I said earlier that I owed you an apology. Part of that is for the pressure I've put you under. But the biggest part is for being dishonest with you about who I am."

Izuku's eyes grew wide as saucers when the lanky form of Yagi Toshinori began to shift. His body filled out, muscles bulging, and before the transformation was even complete, Izuku blurted out in shock.

"All Might?!"

The number one hero smiled, a hint of relief in his expression. "I was worried you might not believe it."

"N-no," Izuku stammered. "It makes sense now. I always wondered how you were able to get me so much support from All Might's agency. And… your clothes make more sense now, too."

All Might exchanged a knowing look with Sir Nighteye, who appeared impressed.

"I must admit, I was expecting a bigger reaction," the sidekick said.

Izuku blinked, trying to process everything. "I guess I was too… maybe it's because All Might's presence has always been comforting to me, even when I just saw news about him or interacted with his merch."

The answer seemed to satisfy Sir Nighteye.

"I have more to apologize for," All Might continued, drawing Izuku's attention once more. "I haven't been completely honest about why I chose to help you achieve your dream. It wasn't just because you have potential. There's another, more selfish reason."

Izuku's mind raced, trying to grasp what All Might could mean. His brain automatically jumped to the worst conclusions, but he remembered their earlier conversation at the diner and calmed slightly.

"Young Midoriya," All Might said, his tone solemn. "I want you to be my successor. Will you accept?"

...

The room fell into an expectant silence, but all Izuku could hear was the deafening noise in his head.

(I don't have a quirk.)

"M-me?" Izuku stammered. "But I… I can't. I'm quirkless. Even being a hero is a stretch. I can't be your successor."

His thoughts spiraled, his brain searching for some explanation—some way this wasn't real.

"How would I even be your successor?" he pleaded. "What about Stars and Stripes? She's already the strongest, a-and she's the hero considered most like you in almost every category. Why not her?"

"All Might," Sir Nighteye interjected, his voice cutting through the tension. He gave the hero a stern look. "You can be so dense sometimes. You should have explained about One for All first."

"One for All?" Izuku echoed, the unfamiliar term breaking through his panic.

"I suppose I should've led with that," All Might chuckled softly, moving to sit across from Izuku. "Let me explain. Young man, One for All is my quirk. However, it wasn't always mine, it was given to me by the previous holder. Overtime it stockpiles raw power, which can be drawn upon to achieve feats of great strength, or to enhance the original quirk."

Izuku couldn't help his brain instinctively attempting to dissect the quirk. Stockpile Enhancement? Those weren't rare, and they often ranged between low and medium-high powered quirks, but one that could be passed on, that meant there was potential for an even longer duration for stockpiling power. No wonder All Might was so powerful.

(I want that quirk)

Wait. Passed on. Given to him?

"Quirks can be passed on?" Izuku blurted, pushing down a sudden urge to ask for the quirk. "Is that even possible?"

"It is." All Might confirmed. "My quirk is proof of that."

"Wait, you said it enhances already existing quirks? What was your quirk then?"

"I didn't have one," All Might admitted, his smile softening. "I was quirkless."

"Like me?"

"Yes, like you," All Might said, his voice filled with a nostalgic warmth. "I was just a boy without a quirk, but I had a dream. And I happened to tell that dream to someone who had the power to give me their quirk. Very much like our chance encounter in the hospital, my boy."

Izuku felt the weight of All Might's words sinking in. "Then… you were planning on giving me the quirk the whole time?" His voice trembled, tears prickling at his eyes. "But… I'm just a random kid. Surely there are others who'd be better choices. Why not a hero? Why not someone with a quirk? Did you just meet me and decide to give your quirk away?"

(I would NEVER give a quirk away)

"Why would you do that? Isn't your quirk worth more than that?"

Sir Nighteye stepped in at that moment, his expression calm but firm. "Midoriya, I assure you, the decision wasn't made on a whim. We considered several candidates. In the end, you were the best of them."

"But… what could I—" Izuku tried to argue, his voice breaking.

"Because you inspired me, young man," All Might interrupted, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. "Meeting you made me think of the future—the new generation of heroes. I was recently reminded that I won't always be able to stand at the frontlines, and that I needed someone to carry the mantle, to become the next Symbol of Peace. I chose you because I see in you the potential to become the hero you've always wanted to be."

Tears flooded Izuku's eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of fear or doubt. He sobbed, but through the tears, a smile broke out across his face.

"Izuku Midoriya," All Might said, standing tall and extending his hand toward him, his eyes full of pride. "I ask you again: Will you take my quirk and become my successor?"

(GIVE IT TO ME!)

Without hesitation, Izuku reached out, clasping All Might's hand tightly. His voice was thick with emotion, but his answer was clear. "Yes!"

Bakugo was pissed. Not that it was unusual—his explosive temper left little room for the emotional peace most would consider happiness—but lately, he was less happy than usual. And it was all Deku's fault.

It had been three days since he saved the other nerd from some raging, hormonal bear woman, and while Bakugo had gotten off scot-free for using his quirk, so had that freak. Thanks to the intervention of that weird old man—who if Bakugo was being honest, looked more like a living skeleton with blonde hair than a normal person.

Bakugo knew Shishido could be a brown-noser, always desperate for positive media attention. But seeing the lion hero practically grovel at the feet of that scrawny old man was an unexpected, pathetic sight. What made the guy so dangerous?

Turns out, the old man worked for All Might.

So why the hell did he escort Deku out of the precinct like some damn prince?

And why was Deku strong enough to rip a metal pipe off the wall? Why did it take just one hit to put a trained hero on her ass?

Sure, adrenaline could make you stronger in a fight, but a quirkless weakling like Deku shouldn't be that strong.

And what was with Deku lately? The crybaby he knew should still be sulking after what happened over the weekend. But no—Deku was walking around with that annoying smile plastered on his face all day.

Something was up. And Bakugo was going to get answers.

That's why he was waiting after school for Deku.

"Kacchan?" The nerd finally appeared, strolling out of the gates, completely ignoring the crowd of students pouring out around him. He walked straight toward Bakugo with a confidence that felt way too out of place. Bakugo didn't like it. "You said you wanted to talk?"

"Where are we going?" Deku asked, falling into step beside him.

Bakugo clenched his jaw, fighting back a sneer. "I said follow me. We're going where I'm going."

"Okay." Deku took it in stride, and silence settled between them.

They eventually reached the old playground they used to play in as kids. Bakugo stopped in the middle of the empty field, tossing his bag by a nearby tree and rolling up his sleeves.

"We're here." His voice was flat.

Deku stayed by the sidewalk, gripping his backpack straps. He seemed wary. "Why here?"

Bakugo scoffed. "What? I just want to talk. I'm not gonna pull anything after what happened on Friday."

Deku raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"That freakishly tall guy who showed up. He was there for you. He works for Might Tower. I wanna know why."

Deku averted his eyes. Bakugo's narrowed in suspicion. There was definitely something going on.

"Where have you been going after school?" Bakugo asked, his tone hardening. "My mom keep saying she's so happy we're hanging out every day. It's annoying."

"Why do you care?" Deku fired back, locking eyes with him. "You never cared before."

"Because I think you're still trying to be a damn hero." Bakugo's voice sharpened, expecting Deku to stammer. But instead, Deku stood his ground.

"I am."

Bakugo snapped.

"ARE YOU STUPID?!" He bellowed, causing Deku to flinch. "You've got no quirk! You can't be a hero! Three times this month you should've seen how out of your depth you are! Why the hell are you so stubborn?!"

"Why do you care?" Deku shot back, voice steady. "You never cared about my life before—that was Tsubasa. Half the time, you pretend I don't exist."

"Because it's annoying!" Bakugo growled what he knew was a non-answer reflexively. "I don't know what was wrong with Tsubasa's head, but he was just as delusional as you."

He closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, stopping inches from Deku's face.

"Listen close, Deku. I don't care if you've got some special training or if someone's dumb enough to believe in you. You're not applying to UA. Not even for general studies. I'm the only one from our crappy school getting in. You're not gonna be some annoying stain on my record when I become the number one hero."

Their eyes locked—green clashing with red, tension boiling in the air between them.

Finally, Bakugo had enough. He clicked his tongue in disgust and stomped back toward his bag. Just as he bent to pick it up, Deku's voice cut through the silence.

"And what if I have a quirk? What then?"

Bakugo froze, then turned, glaring at Deku like he'd lost his mind.

"Then do whatever the hell you want!" Bakugo snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm, before storming off down the street.

Izuku lingered in the park, watching as the other teen stormed off. He gave him some time to walk a decent distance. They were heading in the same direction—living so close to each other—so giving Kacchan some space would avoid any awkward interactions after their fight.

Despite the harsh conversation with his childhood friend, Izuku couldn't help but feel... happy.

Looking around, he noticed how little the park had changed. The benches might've been repainted, but everything else remained the same. The sight stirred a few fond memories.

He smiled, recalling the days when he, Tsubasa, and Kacchan would run around playing follow-the-leader with the other kids. Kacchan had been the first to get his quirk, so he was always the leader.

That was, until another kid got their quirk. But Kacchan wasn't about to give up his spot. He insisted his quirk was cooler, so he should stay in charge. Everyone—except the new kid—agreed, eager to believe their own quirks would be cooler one day.

Tsubasa had been the only real rival. His dragon body quirk was legendary among the playground crowd. Kacchan, of course, disagreed. The two of them ended up fighting, and Kacchan was losing, badly, until Mrs. Bakugo stepped in and broke it up.

After that, the game of follow-the-leader died out. Kacchan's attitude had soured it for everyone else.

Izuku remembered feeling disappointed. He'd never gotten his turn to lead, confident back then that his quirk would be the best of all. Only, that quirk never came. He'd spent the rest of his life waiting.

He looked down at his hand, clenching it into a fist with a quiet smile.

He didn't have to wait anymore.

The distant sound of children's laughter reached his ears, pulling him from his thoughts. A group of kids was heading towards the park from the nearby kindergarten, accompanied by their teachers.

Figuring it was time to head home. Izuku glanced back at the playground once more, then slung his backpack over his shoulder as he began the trip home.

"I'm home!" Izuku called out, though he wasn't sure anyone would respond.

"Izuku Midoriya, come here."

The tone of his mother's voice froze him in place. His heart pounded as he dropped his backpack onto the couch. Something was wrong.

"Yes, mom!" He hurried past the living room, turning left down the hallway to her room.

In the doorway, he stopped. His mother sat on the edge of her bed, gripping her phone tightly with both hands. She didn't look up.

"Where were you just now?" Her voice was small.

"I was with Kacchan," Izuku replied. For the first time in months that sentence wasn't a complete lie.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze. Her eyes, already wet with tears, looked vulnerable—hurt in a way that sent a wave of guilt through him.

"I just got off the phone with Mitsuki," she began quietly, gently placing the phone besides her. "Katsuki told her about the deal you two have."

Izuku's heart sank. He opened his mouth to explain, but no words came out. Anything he said would only make things worse.

"Is it true?" Her voice cracked as she began to sob, she groped at her one arm with the other hand as if to stabilize herself with a self hug. "Have you been lying to me for years? Just to because you wanted me to stop watching out for you, because you wanted me out of your hair?"

"No!" Izuku blurted, panic rising in his chest. "It wasn't like that!"

"And now you're lying more!" she responded, her voice strained with betrayal.

"I'm not!" he protested, though he knew his defense was weak. "It hasn't been going on that long—"

"You still did it! Why?" Her voice was thick with emotion. "I've been sitting at work every afternoon, thinking you were safe, and all this time you were sneaking off to do... who knows what. Why?"

"Because you don't trust me!" The words escaped before Izuku could stop them, and the moment they did, he regretted it.

Inko's face fell, her eyes wide with hurt. Her sorrow quickly morphed into anger.

"What do you mean I don't trust you!?" she snapped, standing up now, her voice trembling. "I've always trusted you! I gave you so much freedom because I knew you needed space, now that you were growing up. What makes you think I don't trust you?"

"But you don't!" Izuku's frustration surged. "Even Kacchan knew how frail you thought I was! That's why the deal worked. If I didn't say I was with him, you'd pester me about being safe. You wouldn't let me hang out alone with anyone but him! Not even Tsubasa—and he was my only real friend, and he's gone now!"

The longer he spoke the more angry he got, he hadn't even noticed his mother take a step back as he yelled.

"You were convinced that the only way I would be safe was if I was with him. Because I was quirkless, and weak and needed protection 24/7. But guess what, I have been spending months without that self important asshole and I have been fine!

"You weren't fine!" Inko's voice broke as she screamed, her whole body shaking in frustration. The tears running down her face beginning to wet the carpet. "You were attacked—twice! You could have died, Izuku! You would have been hurt or worse if someone else wasn't there to save you! But you didn't even tell me. Why?"

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. Izuku's anger faded, leaving only shame. He looked away, choosing not to look at his mom. He couldn't stand seeing her this hurt by him.

"How... how did you know?" he asked softly.

"Katsuki told his mom everything," Inko replied, her voice weary now. She sat down on the bed again, putting her hands on her knees as she tried her best to reign in her emotions "He saw the first attack on the news. You were on the news, and you didn't think to tell me? Why?"

Izuku hung his head, trying to find an explanation that didn't blow everything.

"I couldn't tell you," he whispered, hating how flimsy it sounded.

"You couldn't?" Inko's expression shifted from anger to worry as she let forward towards him, her voice cracking again. "Izuku... what are you involved in? After being assaulted twice, you didn't think to tell your own mother?"

She paused, her face twisting as she attempted to shove down the tears.

"I'm scared. For you." She admitted. "I don't know what's happening in your life. I find out from other people that you're hurt. And... and who was that man at the precinct? The one Katsuki saw you with? Izuku what have you gotten yourself into?"

"It's not anything bad, I promise," Izuku said quickly, though he could see from her face that his promise wasn't enough. Not anymore. He needs to come clean.

"I... have been training to be a hero, mom." He could see she had some thoughts about that so he quickly held up his hands. "Wait, wait, I'm not done. After I was saved from the villain who attacked me the day of the athletics event, the man Kacchan saw, Mr. Toshinori, he offered me a chance to train to be a hero. He said he saw potential in me."

Inko looked at the floor, Izuku couldn't tell what she was thinking or feeling. Then she sighed heavily and rubbed the tears out of her eyes.

"Izuku." She sounded like she was ready to give up. "I don't know what to do anymore. You know that I can't afford to send you to a hero course."

"Mr. Toshinori said he'd pay." Izuku supplied, but Inko wasn't receptive.

"No. I don't like that." She declared. "Izuku he's a stranger. Who knows what he's thinking to do you with you?"

"To do with me?" Izuku asked, confused.

"He approached a young boy just moments after being a victim of a villain attack and offered him everything he wants in life. Izuku, how could you not see what I mean? He's manipulating you. I don't want you near him anymore."

"But-"

"No!" Inko stopped his rebuttal, standing up. "I am your mother, and you will listen to me Izuku. I don't want you interacting with that man anymore!"

She walked forward, gesturing to his pocket. "In fact, give me your phone." She demanded.

Izuku reached tentatively into his pocket, unsure of what her goal was, but he realized the only way out of this was to accept whatever punishment she had in mind. A few days without his phone wasn't the end of the world.

Handing his phone, his mother opened it. And immediately went to the contacts section.

"Wait Mom, what are you doing?"

"I'm blocking that man's number."

In an instant, dread filled Izuku's being. The thought of losing contact with All Might—his mentor, his inspiration, his only chance to achieve his dream—pressed upon like a heavy weight. His body was paralyzed, unable to stop what was about to happen. His mind screamed at him to act, to grab the phone before his mother ruined everything. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move, his body wouldn't listen.

But something else did.

Without warning, a surge of black mass erupted from his hand. Two thick, shadowy tendrils glowing with faint green light shot forward, faster than Izuku could even process. The tendrils lashed out violently, mirroring the panic and desperation that flooded his mind.

Before either of them could comprehend what was happening, one of the dark tentacles smacked the phone from his mother's hands, sending it crashing into the floor. Another slammed into Inko's chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her tumbling back.

Her feet caught on the edge of the bed, and she fell hard, crashing headfirst into the far wall with a loud snap as her head put a crack in the cement wall of the apartment.

Silence filled the room.

Izuku stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared at his trembling hand. The black energy—those tendrils—were already gone, as if they had never been there at all.

Inko groaned in pain, trying to pick herself up.

"Mom?" He snapped out of his shock and rushed over to her, kneeling by her side. "Mom, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Inko blinked through the pain, disoriented but conscious. Slowly, she managed to stand, her eyes locking onto Izuku's. Shock, disbelief, and hurt were all mixed in her wide green eyes.

"Izuku," she said softly, still catching her breath, "you have a quirk?"

Izuku opened his mouth to answer, but no words came. He was too overwhelmed to respond, his mind spinning in a thousand directions. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was planning for it to be a normal conversation where he worked up to it, not...this. He hadn't even known he could do that.

Inko scanned him up and down, her eyes full of worry. The shock in her expression having shifted to motherly concern.

Seemingly deciding he was fine, she stood to her full height and touched her head wincing as she did so.

"I'm fine," she said at last, her voice calm but strained. "Just a bruise."

Izuku stared at her, guilt and confusion swirling in his chest. He had just attacked his mother. Even if it wasn't on purpose, he had hurt her.

"Go to your room," she said, but there was no anger in her voice. Only weariness. "We'll talk later, okay? I just... I need some time to process this."

Izuku hesitated, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. "Mom, I'm really—"

"You can take your phone," she added, her voice soft but resolute. "Just... go. We'll talk later."

Izuku's throat tightened as he nodded, retrieving his phone from where it had fallen. He slowly made his way to his room, the weight of guilt pressing down on him as he closed the door and collapsed onto his bed.

Lying there, he stared at his hand, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. That... thing—the dark tendrils—didn't match anything he'd expected from One for All. Was it really part of the quirk All Might had passed down to him? Or was it something else entirely?

Maybe... he had always had a quirk? Could One for All have enhanced it somehow?

The thought swirled in his head, and he decided to file it away for now. He'd ask All Might when he saw him next. Shifting his focus, he grabbed his phone. The protective casing was completely busted, but at least it took all the damage and the hardware still worked, even if the screen a thin crack running across it.

Izuku let out a small breath of relief when he saw that Mr. Toshinori's contact was still there. As he scrolled down to check the rest of his list, another name caught his eye: Tsubasa.

Without much thought, Izuku clicked the name and initiated the call. Whether or not his friend answered these days almost felt like a lottery.

The ringtone dragged on, and he was just about to give up when the line clicked.

"Iz...uku? Hi... Sorry, I'm... really out of breath," Tsubasa's voice came through, breathless and strained.

"Tsubasa? Are you okay? It feels like every time we talk, you're under the weather." Izuku frowned, the concern clear in his voice.

"I'm fine," Tsubasa gasped, the sound of water gulping in the background. "Just finished training. My grandfather's been brutal lately."

"You're training? Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt—I can call back if you want."

"No worries. Training's over for the day." Tsubasa let out a short laugh. "Grandpa's been going a bit easier on me recently. Says I'm almost ready."

"Ready for what? You're sure he's not secretly prepping you to be a hero?" Izuku asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Nah, I don't think so," Tsubasa chuckled. "But honestly? I have no idea."

Izuku smiled, but the concern lingered in his chest. "You're sure you're okay? That sounds... really tough."

"It's fine." Tsubasa's voice grew clipped. "Anyway, let's talk about you. How have things been? Still training with that geezer you told me about?"

"Yup!" Izuku replied, his tone brightening. "Though I overdid it, pulled a muscle and now he's forcing me to take a break for a while."

"Man, I'm jealous. My grandpa just tells me to 'walk it off.' Healed by my quirk or not, it still sucks."

Izuku's smile faded slightly. "That sounds... kind of abusive. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"It's fine, really." Tsubasa's tone became firmer, a clear sign he didn't want to linger on the topic. "Anyway, tell me more. Anything big happen recently?"

Izuku hesitated. He felt uncomfortable leaving that topic as it was, but took the hint.

Should he tell Tsubasa about everything? About the quirk? He didn't want to dwell on the negative, especially the attack, he didn't want to burden his friend but at the same time...

"I have a quirk now," he blurted, his heart racing as the words left his mouth.

Tsubasa's gasp was followed by a shout of pure joy. "I knew it! Izuku, that's amazing!"

"You knew?" Izuku blinked in confusion. "How could you have known?"

"Well, I suspected," Tsubasa corrected. "I've been learning a lot about quirk theory from my grandfather. One of the things we studied made me think you might have had a quirk all along."

"What? Really?" Izuku's disbelief was evident.

"Yeah! Your hair—its color isn't natural for humans. It's a mutation, and that's often a sign of having a quirk factor. So, you should've had a quirk."

Izuku blinked, processing this new information. "But... why didn't it show up before?"

"There could be lots of reasons. Like maybe your quirk needed a specific trigger. Imagine someone whose quirk only activates when they're in knee-deep water, but they've never been to the beach. They'd never even know they had one!"

That explanation made more sense than Izuku had expected. Could it be that his quirk—the tendrils—had always been there, just waiting for something like One for All to come along and activate it?

Before he could ask more, Tsubasa's voice cut in, speaking to someone in the background. "Sir? Yes, sir. Right away."

"Sorry, man, I've gotta go," Tsubasa said, sounding rushed. "But I'm so happy for you. We'll catch up more later, okay?"

"Sure—" But before Izuku could finish his goodbye, the line went dead.

Lying on his bed, Izuku sighed, unsure of what to do next. His mind was spinning, torn between guilt and confusion. He still felt terrible for hurting his mom, even if it had been an accident, but he couldn't tell if she was truly upset or just shaken. The damage to the wall wouldn't be cheap to repair either, so she probably wasn't happy about that.

Leaving his room to grab a snack maybe? Nah, he probably didn't need one.

grumble

Okay, maybe he was hungrier than he thought, but was her "go to your room" meant as "go to your room and wait until I come talk to you." or not?

His phone buzzed, breaking his train of thought.

THE RUMORS ARE TRUE! UA REBELS AGAINST HPSC TO BECOME A PRIVATE ACADEMY – Press Interview (LIVE STREAM)

Curious, he clicked on the notification, the screen switching to a livestream. A reporter was setting the stage, recapping the events that had led up to this press conference. Izuku had missed most of the chatter about it during his recent training and recovery, but he'd caught enough rumors over the past few days to know it was a big deal.

A soft knock at the door drew his attention away from the stream. He muted it and sat up.

"Come in," Izuku called, his voice tentative.

The door creaked open, and his mom peeked in, her expression much calmer than before, though there was still a trace of worry in her eyes. She stepped into the room, wringing her hands nervously.

"Izuku," she began softly, her voice a little shaky. "About earlier..."

"I'm sorry," Izuku and Inko both blurted out.

They both froze, realizing they'd spoken at the same time. Inko let out a small laugh, but Izuku only looked more confused.

"But, I hurt you," he said, eyes wide. "I lied about where I was, and I... hurt you with my quirk."

Inko shook her head, giving him a gentle smile. "I know you didn't mean to, and I'm fine, really, it's just a bruise. If it was worse I'd know." She assured him as she patted her head.

"I'm still hurt about some things, especially about you lying to me, but..." She paused, her gaze softening. "I've been thinking. Maybe you were right. I've been a little too protective, and I'm sorry for that."

Izuku's heart lifted slightly, though the guilt still weighed heavily on him. He nodded, his smile small but grateful. "Thanks, Mom."

"All I ask is that you're honest with me from now on, okay?" she added, her tone hopeful.

Izuku hesitated. He wanted to be honest, but the situation with his quirk and All Might made things complicated. "About my quirk, I—"

Inko raised a hand to stop him. "You don't need to explain. If he gave you a quirk, then it's already done. Just... promise me you'll use it wisely."

Izuku stared at her, dumbfounded. "You... know about him?"

She chuckled, her laughter catching him completely off guard. "I know more than you think, Izuku. A lot more."

Before Izuku could even begin to process that revelation, and it's many implications, she pointed to his phone. "What are you watching?"

"Oh, uh..." Izuku fumbled for words, suddenly remembering the livestream. "It's about UA. There's been a lot of rumors lately, and they're holding a press interview."

Inko nodded, though he could tell she wasn't deeply interested. "Why don't you put it on the TV in the living room while I make us some katsudon?"

Izuku's stomach growled again, louder this time, making both of them laugh.

"Guess that's a yes," she said with a giggle, heading for the door.

"Yeah, I guess so," Izuku agreed, chuckling as he got up to follow her, feeling much lighter than before.

"Mom! It's starting!"

"Hold on, honey. I'm just grabbing some trays so we don't spill on the couch or the carpet. I'll be there in a second."

The TV flashed to life, showing the familiar intro for Hero News Japan before fading to reveal the anchor, Mr. Miyagi. He greeted the audience and gave a brief rundown of the event, in case anyone had tuned in late.

Inko walked in with their food, handing a tray to Izuku and placing her own on her lap as they settled on the couch.

"Oh! It's Mr. Miyagi!" she said, smiling. "I remember him. He was a popular journalist back in the day. What happened to his horn?"

She gestured to the screen, where Mr. Miyagi's two horns were clearly visible—one filed down to a stump, while the other curved elegantly above his head.

Izuku was more surprised she recognized him than by the question itself. "He cut one off when he became an anchor. It caused a bit of controversy because some people thought it was quirkist, like he was changing himself to fit in. They said it was like... someone cutting off an arm just to appeal to others."

"Hmm, sounds like people were overreacting a bit. I miss the horn, but like you said—it's just a horn."

As Mr. Miyagi wrapped up his introduction, the screen shifted to the main event—the UA press conference. The camera panned over a large table set up beneath the archway of UA's main office building. Reporters swarmed in front of the panel, their cameras flashing.

The view zoomed in on a man standing to the left of the panel, dressed in spiked leather and black skinny jeans, his towering neon-yellow hair unmistakable.

"HELLO EVERYBODY!" Present Mic's voice boomed as he grinned at the crowd. "I'm Present Mic, hero and UA staff member! I'll be hosting this interview, since no one else has the lungs to out-shout me!" His joke earned some chuckles from the reporters.

"How is he talking so loud without a microphone?" Inko asked. "I thought they didn't use those tiny ones anymore."

"His quirk amplifies his voice," Izuku explained. "He actually uses support gear to tone it down, or else it'd be way louder."

"Ahh," Inko nodded, settling back.

"First off," Present Mic continued, "I'll explain tonight's format. We'll make a statement on each topic, followed by questions. I'll decide when we've covered enough ground before moving on. Got it? Great! Now, let's get started. Principal Nezu, the floor is yours."

The rodent, comically seated upon the very table holding the microphone he was talking into, began his statement.

"Good evening, City of Musutafu, Prefecture of Shiozaka, people of the Nation of Japan and people across the planet. Tonight I am not here to defend my school's decision to leave our governments control. Tonight I am not here to placate the opinions of those critical about what my decision might bring. Because tonight..."

As Nezu spoke, soft music began playing in the background, gradually building in intensity. Suddenly, the music exploded into full volume, and the surrounding area was illuminated in red, yellow, and blue—colors that everyone recognized instantly.

"I AM HERE!" All Might's thunderous voice echoed through the plaza as he crashed down onto the pavement. Flashbulbs went off in rapid succession, reporters scrambling to capture the moment. A few tried to shout questions, but they were quickly drowned out as All Might continued.

"TONIGHT! I AM HERE TO ANNOUNCE MY RETIREMENT!" His words seemed to freeze the entire crowd. Even the most seasoned reporters stopped in their tracks, momentarily stunned.

"BUT THAT'S NOT ALL!" All Might's voice swelled again. "TONIGHT, I AM HERE TO ANNOUNCE THAT I WILL BE JOINING UA, NOT JUST AS A BUSINESS PARTNER, BUT AS A TEACHER! BECAUSE, FOLKS, TONIGHT MARKS THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ERA FOR HEROICS! UA IS PREPARING TO HAND-PICK THE BEST HERO CANDIDATES THIS WORLD HAS EVER SEEN—AND AMONG THEM, WILL BE YOU!"

With a wide grin, All Might pointed directly at the camera, as though he could see every viewer on the other side of the screen.

"AS I STEP DOWN FROM HEROICS, YOU. ARE. NEXT." He paused for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "YOU, MY SUCCESSOR, WILL BE AMONG THESE PROMISING CANDIDATES, LEADING THE WAY. BECAUSE THEY WILL BE THE NEW HERO GENERATION!"

Izuku, still reeling from the announcement of All Might's retirement, felt the rest of the words sink in. The tears came quickly, spilling over his face and onto his tray, startling his mother.

"Izuku, are you alright?!" Inko asked, placing her food aside and quickly grabbing his tray before anything spilled.

"YES!" Izuku shouted, his joy overflowing, causing his mother's heart to swell.

He turned to her, eyes bright with determination. "Mom! I'm going to be a hero!"

And for the first time, she believed him completely.

AND DONE!

Thanks for reading! As always leave ideas, critiques and question's in the reviews. The help my story find more readers AND they might earn you some info you wouldn't know otherwise. There is also the fact that I am constantly revising what I want to do with my story, so you might be able to sway me in the direction you want the story to go. No promises tho, I've been told I'm quite stubborn.