;;
Dark green hair spilled out of her mother's bun as she tended to her baby's needs. A healthy sheen of pink dusted across her face, adorned with starlike freckles.
She hummed her name.
A baby, holding a bottle filled with formula, tries to grip it with their stubby fingers.
Izuna.
Believe it or not, she wasn't always Izuna. She remembers having a different name, Fireflower. But she also felt like she wasn't always Hanabi, in her last life, either. Maybe that's why she isn't as scared about having another chance at life.
So picture this: a baby born in a hospital room with little to no sound of cries emanating from the small bundle of life, scaring doctors, nurses, and parents alike.
They had thought that she was dead.
Fortunately for them, she wasn't. She was just weird like that.
So it wasn't surprising to her now parents that she was weird in all the right places.
Izuna had figured out by now that she would breeze through this life and wait for her next. That was what she had originally planned.
If it wasn't for the fact that this time around, she was reborn in a world filled with heroes, villains, and quirks.
Yes, you read that right: quirks.
Izuna had seen her mother press her pointer finger on her forehead, and when she gave her a look of curiosity, an image of a tree with a tire swing projected into her mind.
That wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. She saw people with elongated limbs and radios for heads when she was driven home from the hospital.
At first, she didn't care at all that people had superpowers beyond human imagination- well, err, her past life's human imagination. But one question popped into her mind.
Why was she born in the world of My Hero Academia?
It certainly wasn't because she was special.
But if given a chance, she would change everything.
You see, Izuna didn't like the violence and all the gritty parts portrayed in the world. It was like rainbows and glitter.
Everyone idolized heroes and their destructive ways to subdue a villain. She could say the same about villains, but villains were villains for a reason.
She would completely overhaul the way the Hero Commission runs things and hopefully change how the world thinks.
But that's another topic for another time.
Izuna blinked at her mother, Inkai, whom she learned from the other people calling her, and her mother beamed at her.
"Do you want to see another pretty scenery?" Inkai asked, referring to her quirk.
Inkai can project scenes she has imagined or seen to other people. A pretty nifty quirk for creative jobs.
Izuna moves her head, and her mother understands.
This is what Izuna liked about her new mother. Inkai treated her like an intelligent being despite the fact that she was a three-month-old baby.
Izuna blinks again, and she feels her touch.
This time, she sees a younger version of her mother and a young man, perhaps her father, in an almost empty ramen shop.
The swirling aromas of hot noodle broth, neatly arranged condiments on a nearby countertop, a smiling cook with his hands full of noodles and broth, and a grinning helper.
Izuna babbles, and her mother coos.
;
Izuna is one year old when she figures out who she relates to in the story.
It wasn't a eureka moment when she found out about it either.
She had started practicing walking alone when it happened. Her chubby legs placed one foot in front of the other as she moved forward. A bit of sweat built up behind her knees and pits from flailing.
Her mother was keeping an eye on her when there was incessant knocking at the door. With a voice filled with urgency, someone called out to her mother using her last name.
"Midoriya-san!"
In a blur, Inkai, with all the finesse of a mother, ushered her to a spot where she wasn't in full view from the doorway. Turning the knob, she tried to wipe off the smell of baby formula, and a faceless neighbor greeted her sight. They spoke to her in hushed tones.
That's when it clicked for her.
Sharing the same last name as the proclaimed protagonist in said story would give her many chances to change things. It's what she initially thought, but simply sharing a name wouldn't give her tremendous access to whatever she needs to be done.
So she went to her next plan of action.
Her quirk.
;
Izuna was one and a half years old when she discovered her quirk.
It was a special day when she finally made a breakthrough, well, for her.
She was sitting in her baby chair when it happened. Inkai had left for a moment to answer a phone call from her absent husband, which left a sour taste in Izuna's mouth.
With each passing second, Inkai's voice became more distressed, and in turn, Izuna felt the same way. So she wished something would happen to cut off whatever interaction was happening through the call.
Round green eyes trailed from her small hands with a plastic spoon to the metal one on the table in front of her. Her brows furrowed in concentration as if willing the spoon to come to life.
Then the spoon moved.
She babbled in delight, earning her mother's voice easing.
With little to no knowledge of quirks, aside from her Inkai's imagery telepathy, she set to work.
She reached out her hand, bringing it closer to the spoon, while her other hand instinctively moved to her head.
The spoon moved little by little.
Moved,
Moved,
Forcing her head into further concentration, the spoon flew behind her head. With a startled mind, she sobbed. Her body gave in to childish desires.
"Hush now, mommy's here. Mommy's here."
;
Izuna was two, almost three, when she finally met her father.
Midoriya Arata wasn't remarkable in any way, shape, or form. With salt-and-pepper hair and green eyes, he had a quirk called apport: exchanging anything from anywhere to come to him as long as it had the same or almost the same value as the one in front of him.
Quite useless, really, if you don't know how to use it properly. Izuna's mind had already thought of ways to abuse the quirk, which scared her.
With multiple switches, you can swap a paperclip for a grand piano.
But Izuna digressed; it wasn't what intrigued her.
It was the fact that there was another child behind him when he came to their house.
With bright green eyes and darker hair than her own, a child no less than seven years old hid behind him as her father knelt down to her height.
"Inko, come meet your sister."
;
Inko was even more unremarkable than their father. With an even more unremarkable quirk. But Izuna loved her nonetheless.
Inko was calm and kind. Unlike her, I was erratic and weird. And with my secret quirk training, I became even weirder in the eyes of my family.
"Izu-chan, would you like me to push you?" Inko gestured towards the swings.
Izuna, with her three-year-old body and nth-age mind, nodded. A smile painted across her face.
"Yes, Inko-nee!"
;
Izuna was four when she decided to finally show her quirk to her family.
Izuna knew she couldn't keep her power secret. She had to train, control her quirk, and become stronger.
But what she didn't expect was her father taking her to an institution.
Arm hairs stood on end and goosebumps littered her skin. She should've just shut up about her quirk.
Was this the place where Inko disappeared for a few years of my early life? What the hell happened? Why would their father take her to this place? What happened to Inko? Why?
Her skin itched where a brand resided, right on her nape. It had burned from the extreme coldness when they branded her. Izuna could feel the raised bumps of the branding.
No. 044
;
Izuna's days bled together with each passing day. But there was one day that sparked her interest among the numerous lab tests she had undergone.
It was meeting a certain experiment—like her, but this time in the shape of a bear, dog, and mouse. Izuna laughed upon seeing him. She swears she is losing her sanity in the institution.
Green eyes flittered about the hallway. Eyes caught beady ones through the windowed laboratories in the hallway. She saw apparatuses attached to machines, which were attached to even bigger machines.
Izuna eyes the intelligent animal. He doesn't have a scar on his face that she will come to know in the future. Izuna sighs, knowing it would be quite some time before it happens, and settles for staring.
Which earned her a hard shove with a gun—yes, guns. Subjects were often escorted by armed military men—they were provided by the government, which is probably why nobody had batted an eye yet at the supposed illegal activities happening inside the institute.
"Subject 044! Move or I'll be forced to subdue you!"
Izuna clicked her tongue in annoyance before staring again at the future U.A. principal, noticing that the animal also looked at her.
Izuna feels the butt of the gun hit her shoulder, sending her sprawling on the ground. She laughs at her situation. Just because she wanted to be strong, she got sent here instead by her supposed father— it turns out that he was working for the institute the entire time.
Stars dusted her vision when she felt the butt of the gun hit her head and darkness consumed her.
;
It wasn't long before they were moved to different cells, as they had succeeded in whatever they were doing. Izuna could care less about what they were studying and was more focused on the fact that she was finally celled next to the bear-dog-mouse thing.
"So when are you going to leave?" Izuna spoke, startling the animal across from her.
"I know you're intelligent enough to understand me. Don't ask; I know." She added.
"Fine, be that way," she harrumphed, before positioning her head on the stiff pillow provided.
;
Izuna stares at the chimera in front of her. One eye was bandaged crudely, and she knew it would form a scar.
"Do you want to leave?"
The chimera nods, and Izuna laughs.
;
The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a sterile glow over the metal walls of the cell. A low, rhythmic whirring echoed through the chamber, a constant reminder of the unseen forces at work. Inside, two figures sat hunched, their faces etched with the weariness of countless sleepless nights. They were Izuna, an erratic girl with a penchant for ignoring orders, and a chimera with boundless intelligence.
They were prisoners, subjects in a clandestine laboratory where the line between science and barbarity had long been blurred. They had been chosen for their unique abilities, their minds wired differently, their bodies capable of feats beyond the comprehension of ordinary humans. But their gifts had been twisted, their potential exploited, their lives reduced to a series of agonizing tests.
Izuna, a telekinetic, could move objects with her mind. But the experiments had warped her control, leaving her with agonizing headaches and a constant fear of losing her sanity. The chimera, with exceptional intelligence. But the experiments had amplified her sensitivity, turning her into a walking, talking instrument of pain.
One night, as the rhythmic whirring reached a fever pitch, Izuna felt a surge of energy. She could feel the metal bars of her cell trembling, the air around her crackling with unseen power. She closed her eyes, focused her will, and with a guttural roar, she ripped the metal bars from their moorings, sending them crashing to the floor.
The chimera, startled by the sudden commotion, looked at Izuna, its eyes wide with disbelief. She was free.
"Come on," Izuna whispered, her voice hoarse from exhaustion.
"We have to go now."
The chimera, its heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope, followed her. They moved through the labyrinthine corridors of the laboratory, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and the faint metallic tang of blood.
They reached the main entrance, a massive steel door guarded by two armed guards. Izuna, her mind racing, focused her telekinetic powers on the door, forcing it open with a deafening clang.
They burst through the door, the cool night air washing over them, a stark contrast to the sterile, suffocating atmosphere of the laboratory. They ran, their lungs burning, their legs aching, driven by the single, urgent desire to escape.
They ran until they reached the edge of the forest, the darkness of the trees swallowing them whole. They had escaped, but their journey was far from over. The laboratory had changed them, forever scarring their lives with the experiments. They were no longer the beings they once were, but they were free. They were survivors. And they would never forget the horrors they had witnessed, endured, and escaped.
;
The wind whipped at Izuna's face, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. She pulled her tattered cloth tighter, the fabric offering scant protection against the biting chill. Her bare feet, calloused and toughened by months of walking barefoot, crunched on the frozen ground, a rhythmic counterpoint to the howling wind.
She had been running for days, ever since she'd escaped the gilded cage of the Institute. Midoriya Arata, her father, had all but cared for her, sending her to them. He thought it was for training. They had trained her not for self-defense, but to be a weapon, a tool for their own ambitions.
She had been their prized possession, their secret weapon, a living embodiment of their power. They had kept her locked away, isolated from the world, her life a carefully curated performance for their guests. But Izuna had grown tired of the charade. She yearned for freedom, for a life of her own choosing.
She had escaped under the cover of darkness, leaving behind the opulent comfort of her gilded cage. She had no destination in mind, only the burning desire to be free. She walked until her legs screamed in protest, until the world blurred into a dizzying kaleidoscope of grey and white.
She had slept under the open sky, her tattered clothing a meager shield against the elements. She had scavenged for food, her stomach growling with hunger. She had encountered kindness and cruelty in equal measure, her journey a constant struggle for survival.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw him. He was sitting cross-legged on a bench by the lamp post, his back to her. He was old, his face etched with the lines of time, his hair short and white. He wore dress slacks and a button-up, fresh and new.
Izuna refused to return to her previous household, fearing she would be locked up again in the institute. The chimera had left her earlier— not trusting her, despite her saving both their asses from the institute.
Izuna walked.
And walked.
And walked.
"I know who you are."
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crossposted on wattpad
