Aldera Junior High was far from prestigious. Its lack of facilities, like a school cafeteria, was evidence of this. Instead, students packed their own lunches and dispersed across the school grounds during lunchtime. Each clique had its own territory, and without fail, they would gather in the same spot every day. The only time those routines shifted was when petty middle school drama fractured the group. When that happened, students either splintered off to join other cliques or claimed new hangout spots.
For Izuku Midoriya, his spot was a stone bench beneath a large tree, not far from the school's reception office. It wasn't the most popular place, but that was part of the appeal for him. The tree provided cool shade in the summer and shelter from strong winds in the winter. More importantly, it offered a clear view of the school grounds. From here, he could see anyone approaching long before they reached him, giving him precious time to brace for any social interaction. The last thing he wanted was to be caught off-guard and end up fumbling for words.
Sitting close to the reception or near teachers was a habit Izuku had grown up with, typical for quirkless students like him. When they were younger, teachers kept an eye on them in case the other kids played too rough. He used to resent it, feeling patronized, and somewhat excluded as the other kids didn't like holding back and would refuse to play with him, but as he got older, he realized the sense in it. A rough game between two regular kids could leave a quirkless child like him with more than just a bruise. It could mean broken bones. And if something did go wrong, being close to a teacher meant quicker first aid.
Now that he was older, things were different. Students his age didn't play much anymore—at least not the physical games they used to. Most students just spent lunchtime talking. Regardless, Izuku still found himself staying close to the teachers, more out of habit than necessity. Still, he appreciated the comfort of knowing help was nearby if necessary.
Eating alone at lunch was something Izuku had grown accustomed to recently. He didn't mind it, he appreciated the chance to sit in silence and think. Especially now that his life had gotten so busy.
Still, he missed Tsubasa. The chubby dragon boy had been a great conversation partner, always willing to engage with Izuku's hyper fixation on quirks. Few others in the school were knowledgeable enough about quirks to hold up a conversation with him on the topic, even fewer were interested in talking about quirks outside of a classroom setting.
(I want a quirk)
Maybe if he had something like a regeneration quirk of his own, his training would be going a lot faster.
Bending over to rummage through his school bag for a notebook, he twinges as his hamstring reminds him of his stupidity in overexerting himself.
Such pain wouldn't be an issue right now if he had the ability to regenerate his body at will. He opened his book and began scribbling, if he had no-one to talk to, he could just put his thoughts to paper.
What sort of quirk would that be? There are existing quirks with healing factors, but those were often side-effects of the main power. The only real quirk he knew of with healing as its main property was Recovery Girl's quirk.
Flipping through the notebook, he found the pages he'd dedicated to analyzing her ability, "Heal." The first day of training when Mr. Toshinori had taken him to get a check-up so they knew what his baseline capabilities were, he'd been starstruck that the man took him straight to Might Tower. In hindsight, he was embarrassed with how much he was fanboying while in the lobby.
Perhaps a little more so when he thought about how much more he fanboyed in the presence of the elderly hero herself.
When kissing someone, the user of Heal accelerates the natural healing of the kissed person's body, draining energy from them to do so. According to Recovery Girl, the amount healed is directly proportional to the duration of the kiss, and the amount of energy drained is linked to the amount healed, but the relationship varies. Apparently, in the case of smaller injuries, her quirk provides enough energy to the person kissed to cover the energy cost, but the more grave the injury, the more the energy is siphoned from that person's body.
There is no natural point where the body would stop healing itself when there is no more energy, so she never fully heals critically ill patients. Overhealing is also a risk, her quirk relies on the target's body to identify what needs to be healed, so any tumors could pose a health risk.
Finally, severed limbs do not often regenerate fully, and will heal into a stump. That is unless that person's body knows how to regrow its limbs.
Recovery girl has some control over where the healing happens.
That made it what? Definitely a Conditional Consumption quirk. It required a kiss to function and consumed energy to work. But it was definitely also enhancement, since it boosted the natural healing process of others. Izuku tapped his pencil against the notebook, the words in his brain spilling out of his mouth in a mumble as he thought.
A support enhancement quirk, because it worked on others, not the user. And yet, Recovery Girl could both give some energy and direct where the healing occurred, so it had some aspects of an emitter quirk; an orchestrator quirk too, given her control.
But still… at its core, it was a Conditional Consumption Enhancement quirk.
He quickly scribbled down his conclusion as well as the logic he used to get there, but as he finished, his brow furrowed, staring at the words he'd written. Was it possible to have a version of that quirk that worked on the user themselves? How good would that even be?
Not as great as he'd like, probably. The energy drain would negate one of the key advantages of a healing factor: endurance. Sure, it might save you in an emergency, but in a drawn-out fight, you'd just exhaust yourself faster. Still, for someone like him, it'd be incredible—healing his injuries in training or after a tough battle. It might not make him stronger in combat, but it could give him more time to learn, more time to push his limits.
His heart sped up at the thought. A quirk like that would change everything. Maybe if it was combined with a quirk that gave excess energy or reduced the cost of the healing, the quirk to could operate like a normal healing factor.
He paused, furrowed brow turning into a genuine frown as he put the pencil down. That wasn't realistic. No one could have two quirks, so the only way to create the quirk he was imagining was something just...wrong.
Quirk eugenics.
Izuku grimaced, before forcing his thoughts past the unpleasant idea.
He thought of Kamui Woods' Arbor quirk. His passive regeneration was a side effect of his tree-like physiology. Maybe something like that could be useful. Even if it wasn't as powerful as Recovery Girl's quirk, any form of passive healing would be better than nothing. Maybe-
Izuku's thought's were disrupted as the loud snapping of fingers in-front of his face pulled him back to reality. Panic gripping him as a few giggles and chuckles informed him that a group of students had managed to walk up to him while his head was in his notebook. Izuku's hands shot up, and he closed his notebook quickly—a little too quickly, he realized too late. The sudden movement made it suspicious, and he kicked himself internally.
"Woah man, relax." The culprit chuckled, the extended thumb and finger retracted themselves about half a meter towards the hand of their owner. Izuku's eyes followed them all the way, recognizing the quirk as belonging to Suto Sadao. He felt a little tense, while the boy with the stretchy fingers had never been particular rude to Izuku, some of the people he hangout out with had been.
One of those people was Domen Shiki, a boy with pellets of rock forming a helmet around his head instead of hair, and he seemed to have smelled blood. "You closed that book fast." He said, breaking off from the group behind Sadao with a mischievous grin. "Whatcha hiding man?"
Izuku' heart spiked. He knew there was no point in resisting if Shiki tried to take his notebook, even without his quirk, he would overpower Izuku in a second. His fingers tightened around the book as he braced himself to give it up, hoping it wouldn't lead to another embarrassing situation.
But then, to Izuku's surprise, Sadao's fingers stretched out again, blocking Shiki's path. "Let it go, man," Suto said, his voice calm but unusually firm for someone Izuku thought of as an airhead.
Shiki stopped, a confused frown on his face. "C'mon, Sadao. What's the big deal? I'm just curious."
Suto shrugged, retracting his fingers with an easy, casual motion. "You're being rude. Midoriya's not into our kind of jokes." His tone was light, but the firmness remained. Then, with a sly grin, he added, "Besides, Bakugo says he just writes about quirk theories in those books of his, so you'd probably be too dumb to get it anyway."
A ripple of laughter came from the group behind them. Izuku tensed, half-expecting an arguement to break out, but—
"Ha! Good one." Shiki barked, grinning as he joined in with the laughter at his expense. He turned to Izuku, his expression friendly. "Sorry, man. We usually pick on each other for fun. Guess I forgot you're not really part of our group."
Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. Before he could respond, Shiki's attention turned back to the group. "What do the English call it again?"
"Banteru," someone chimed in from the back.
"You mean banter," another voice corrected with a laugh. "Mr. Shizaki would threaten to kill you if he heard you butcher English like that."
Laughter broke out, and Izuku felt a small wave of relief. The conversation had shifted, easing the tension, but their presence was still making him anxious. This group usually stayed on the other side of the grounds, far from his quiet spot under the tree.
"S-so," Izuku stammered, immediately regretting his decision to speak as several heads turned toward him. "Did you want to talk?"
Sadao stopped chuckling, his gaze shifting to Izuku. "Yeah, man, I wanted to invite you to come to the arcade with us after school."
"Huh?" Izuku blinked, his stunned face causing a few chuckles.
"Yeah," Sadao continued, the amused look on his face showing he found Izuku's confusion somewhat funny. "I know you mostly hung out with Tsubasa, and since he's not around anymore, I thought you might want some people to hang out with."
Izuku's skepticism immediately kicked in. It wasn't that he didn't believe Sadao, but he had learned to be wary—people didn't usuallywantto hang out with him.
Shiki chimed in bluntly. "Cut the crap, Sadao." He turned to Izuku with a smirk. "The arcade just got a new fighting game based on the top heroes from every WHA country. We don't know squat about anyone outside Japan except the top five. He wants to milk your nerdy quirk knowledge so we don't get wrecked."
Sadao winced, looking a bit guilty as a few of the others snickered at his expense.
"Okay, okay," Sadao admitted with a sheepish smile. "But it's not like we're dragging you there as an accessory. You'd get to play too."
"Will I, though?" Izuku asked, doubt creeping into his voice. "I'll just get destroyed trying to play against you guys."
"What, just because you're new?" Shiki asked, raising a rocky eyebrow. "We can teach you."
"That too, but mostly because of the reaction time difference." The implications of his statement caused a few of them to take on guilty looks, feeling uncomfortable with the topic of his quirklessness.
Sadao snapped his fingers, his face lighting up in realization. "Oh, right! I forgot."
Izuku couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "What, that I'm quirkless?"
Some of the group found the way he said it funny, but Sadao wagged one of his elongated fingers at him. "Actually, that's why I thought of inviting you in the first place. This game's been getting a lot of attention in the media lately because it has special quirkless accessibility features."
"Really?" Izuku asked, a little shocked. Due to being a shrinking percentage of the population, quirkless people were considered less and less when products were being made. Izuku understood it a little, with the diversity of quirks out there, it was already difficult enough to design something most people could use.
"Yep." Sadao nodded.
Izuku weighed his options, he could go home, do some homework and laze around doing nothing, or he could go out with some people he wouldn't really call his friends. The former was boring, the later was daunting.
"Oh, and there are limited edition hero-plushies if you play on the first day."
Izuku hadn't been inside the local arcade since before his dad left. He could barely remember what it looked like, but it was obvious to him that there has been a rebrand since last time he was here. Along with several expansions.
Since the dawn of quirks, arcades had become popular again, but not for the reasons they once were. With quirks reshaping society, even the internet had to change. Tech-related quirks and unstable geopolitical situations posed a constant threat to the global web, and when it became too difficult to protect against such dangers, the world decided to shut it down. In its place, smaller, more secure networks popped up, isolating regions from one another. Online gaming was one of the casualties, and with the collapse of massive servers, the video game industry took a hit.
Owning personal computers or consoles had also become a luxury most people couldn't afford. Between quirk-related accidents and the sheer volatility of modern society, replacing expensive electronics was a risk few were willing to take. It nearly killed video gaming altogether—until arcades found a way to rise from the ashes.
Unlike home systems, arcades could afford to build quirk-resilient machines designed to last. And they brought back something players missed: the thrill of competition and community, face-to-face. What had once been a dying breed of gimmicky machines became the heart of gaming, with arcades offering a new golden era of competitive play.
The building inside was massive, more akin to a mall than what he had remembered the arcade to resemble. The only difference was the near overwhelming amount of branding and sponsorships at every turn. Even the carpet seemed to be marked with the logos of companies pouring funding into the place.
"Dang, you can tell it's his first time here." Someone chuckled, Izuku couldn't tell who, as he was staring at the spectacle before him. Just on the ground floor he saw dozens of areas, each dedicated to a game identified by the highly customized decor. Nearby each were snack bars, loaded with the produce of the sponsors who had tagged every inch of the place. He felt nearly overwhelmed with not only the opulence, but also the number of options placed before him. How did they navigate this place?
"Hey, Midoriya." Sadao called, getting his attention. He was waving him over to a large booth in the middle of the ground floor, several people were gathering at it. "We're going to go reserve the room."
"W-Wait, like a private room?" Izuku asked.
One of the guys of their group had already grabbed a drink and did a spit take.
"Not like that." Shiki grinned. "It's like ordering a karaoke room. We get our own snack area, lots of seating and our own console, but we don't have to deal with waiting in line or worry about being forced off the console after one game."
"We also get our own bathrooms." Someone chimes.
"Blessed be!" Another responds. "The public bathrooms here are nasty."
Several murmurs of agreement ring out, even from those not a part of the group.
"Wait, so who's paying?" Izuku asked, he didn't really have the pocket money to help spend on something like that.
"Usually we split the cost, but today someone else is paying for us." Shiki explains.
"Who?" Izuku asks.
"That would be mwah~" A feminine voice rings out behind Izuku. Turning around to see who was talking, Izuku jumps as he suddenly realized how close they were standing to him. Letting out a slightly embarrassing yelp.
The girl broke out into laughter, but the rest of the group didn't join in.
"Camie!" One of the boys whispered-yelled. "You can't use your quirk in here, they'll kick us out!"
"Relaxxx-uh." The girl identified now as Camie sighed in an exaggerated tone, flopping her head to the side so that her light-brown hair fell out of her face. She steps past Izuku, his head coming up to the girl's shoulder. "They won't know if you don't tell." She adds, throwing Izuku a wink, visible sparkles jumping from her closed eye as she does so. Izuku's brain locking in on trying to figure out her quirk barely prevented him from blushing.
"Besides, she's with me, so relax little man." A voice said from where Camie was moments ago. This time the girl was much shorter, coming just shy of Izuku's shoulder. Unlike Camie, who seemed to have no visible mutations, this girl had significantly thicker and hairier fore-arms, as well as rounded animal ears on her head. Despite that, she was still very pretty by Izuku's standards, similar to Camie.
The new girl flashed a card, which Izuku recognized as a provincial hero license. "I'm basically a hero already, so you can consider her under my supervision."
Izuku was about to mention that wasn't actually how it worked, but was interrupted by Camie before he could say anything.
"All done!" She cheered. "Lets go, I'm tote's excited for the game!"
Feeling it would be awkward to bring it up while they headed for the nearest escalator, Izuku fell silent.
Just as Sadao had explained, the private room was like a karaoke lounge—only much larger. A massive TV took up the far wall, surrounded by shelves of video game titles. Below it, a set of drawers housed what seemed to be a large gaming console. The curved couch in front could easily seat twenty people.
A snack bar stood to the left, bathrooms to the right, and in the center of the room was a coffee table stacked with cards and board games. RGB lighting bathed everything in a soft, neon glow, setting the perfect gaming vibe.
Izuku sank into the couch, feeling the plush cushions mold to him. This was definitely an upgrade from his couch at home. As the others filed in, Sadao went straight to the games, eager to find the new release.
"Hey, Bakugo, you're late! Don't make a habit of it, yeah?" someone called from the door, their tone smug.
Izuku froze at the name, sinking lower in his seat, hoping not to be noticed.
"Shove it, extra," Bakugo snapped, tossing his bag onto a chair. "You don't get to pull that crap when you're never here half the time."
"Oooh~ He's just as prickly as you told me, Keiichi!" Camie giggled from the snack bar, sipping soda.
"Who the hell are you?" Bakugo's eyes narrowed, scanning her up and down.
"Didn't Keiichi tell you?" Camie's grin widened. "I'm his big cousin, Camie Utsushimi. You can all call me Camie since my last name is so long. Except you," she added, pointing dramatically at Bakugo. "I've heard you're a big meanie, and I don't like that."
"You tell him, girl." The shorter girl laughed, making herself comfortable next to Izuku on the large couch.
Faint pops echoed in the room as Bakugo's frustration set off small involuntary explosions in his palms.
"Okay, and?" Bakugo crossed his arms, both in an attempt to appear unbothered and to muffle the explosions on his palms so that he wouldn't get kicked out for using his quirk.
Camie took a loud sip through the straw of her soda, then raised a finger. "One, I paid for the room. Two, I'm visiting my aunt and uncle—who are sooo booooring." She bent over dramatically as she said that, before quickly straitening up. "And three, I wanna playHero Arena 2, which hasn't released at my arcade yet."
"Hasn't released yet? So you're from the boonies?" Bakugo sneered.
A few of the guys from Aldera laughed.
"What's so funny?" Bakugo shot them a glare.
Keiichi chimed in, smirking. "Camie's from Okoyama. She usually plays at Shiketsu High's arcade and since it's not affiliated with any of the big arcade chains they don't get fresh releases until a few days later."
Both Bakugo and Izuku stiffened at the mention of Shiketsu, UA's rival for the top hero school in the country. Meeting a student from that school was rare enough, let alone meeting them in the hometown of UA. Without thinking, Izuku turned around in his seat, eager to ask some questions.
"Wait, really? That is so cool! Are you a first-year? What's it like? What teachers do you have? Wha-" The questions began firing, leading the girl beside Izuku to grab him by the shoulder.
"Hey, settle down, I don't think anyone can answer questions that fast." She said, before pulling him down back to his seat.
"Deku!?" Bakugo snapped, startled. Though he quickly composed himself, throwing a glare at Camie. "I don't care what the nerd thinks, or anyone else. Shiketsu's nothing compared to UA. You're not special for getting in there."
Her hand still on Izuku's shoulder, the shorter girl smirked, "That's big talk from someone who probably won't make it into any school, let alone Shiketsu or UA." She flashed her provisional license, causing Bakugo's eyes to narrow. "Atleast Camie and I can walk the talk you're spewing."
Bakugo bristled at the comment. "Listen here, you—"
"Guys, chill," Sadao stepped in, putting a hand on Bakugo's shoulder. "We're here to play games, remember?" He waved the game case ofHero Arena 2in front of Bakugo.
"Fine. But if these two idiots or the nerd annoy me, I'm out," Bakugo muttered, casting a sharp glance at Izuku.
Izuku felt Bakugo's glare linger on him, but it eventually faded as the game flickered on. Just as the room's attention shifted to the TV, Izuku became more aware of the girl's hand still on his shoulder. The casual touch was not entirely unwelcome, it was a bit thrilling that it was a girl, but it sent a wave of unease through him as both the sensation and person were unfamiliar to him. Being unsure how to express his discomfort without seeming rude to the prospective hero, he chose to stay quiet. He waited until the opening cinematics were over before discreetly excusing himself.
Standing up, Izuku made his way to the snack bar, grateful for the momentary escape. He busied himself with pouring a drink, watching the others from a distance as they got engrossed in the game, and he did too. He'd never really played that many games before, being quirkless he felt discouraged from even trying to get into the hobby when no matter how good he got he would always be at a disadvantage.
Still, watching the matches, he began to catch the basics. He was thoroughly impressed with how well each hero was represented in the game. Speaking of which, his knowledge of heroes and their quirks was coming in handy whenever there was a lesser known one featured on screen. Some members of the group were warming up to him rather quickly.
"That's so dumb!" Shiki grumbled. "Who on earth are you playing? Midori! Help me out here?"
Midoriya span himself around on the barstool of the snackbar, stopping as he faced the screen.
"That's Salaam, Egypt's no. 8 hero. His quirk is Papyrus. He's as thin as paper, and moves incredibly fast. He normally wins his battles without taking any damage, but the few times he has been hit by a villain it's enough to put him down for a while."
The girl gave Midoriya a look he didn't know how to decipher, but it seemed positive. Only it lingered a bit too long for him, and when it turned into direct eye-contact, he quickly re-directed his eyes just in time to see Shiki break Bakugo's combo with a perfect parry.
"Damn it!" Bakugo yelled, trying in vain to salvage the game, but Shiki had managed to follow up with a grapple that did massive damage to Salaam, causing the spectators to cheer as the momentum changed against Bakugo. But the room fell quiet as the game ended nearly instantly after the grapple was released, Shiki landed a simple combo, dealing enough damage to knock out Salaam
GAME OVER!
Oceania's top hero, Rumbling Boulder, a giant of man-shaped rock, stood with his head held high as the game declared his victory.
"That was anticlimactic," Sadao remarked.
"No shit," Bakugo grumbled, standing up. "Salaam's the most underpowered character right now."
"Or maybe you're just mad I beat you," Shiki teased.
Bakugo shot him a glare. "I'm not mad. I'm thirsty." He made his way to the snack bar.
"Sure thing, pal." Shiki responded. "Now who do you want to replace you?"
"Deku." He said, pulling himself onto the seat next to Izuku. Who blinked in surprise.
"Who?" Camie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He means Midoriya," Keiichi explained, gesturing toward Izuku. "They've known each other since they were babies. I don't think I'veeverheard either of them call each other by their real names."
"Then what does Midoriya call him?" the other girl asked, curiosity piqued.
"Kacchan. Right?" Shiki chimed in, glancing at Izuku for confirmation.
Izuku felt the room's attention shift to him. Feeling a bit put on the spot, he nodded quickly before practically bolting for the couch. He took his seat with haste.
Camie leaned forward, a playful frown on her face. "That seems a bit unfair, doesn't it? Bakugo gets a cute, friendly nickname, but you get called 'Deku'?" She paused, thinking it over. "What does Deku even mean? Like… a wooden puppet or something? Is that your quirk?"
The room fell into an awkward silence as Camie's innocent question hit a sore spot. Those who knew the truth exchanged uneasy glances.
"N-no" He glanced up at Camie, forcing a small, strained smile as he prepared to say what he had repeated countless times throughout his life. Each time it made him feel just a little smaller. "I'm actually quirkless."
"You are?" Camie's head turned to the side, as she doesn't believe him. Seemingly realizing how insensitive that might sound she quickly backtracked. "Sorry, I'm not saying I don't believe you, it's just I've never seen someone without a quirk have a mutation. Or is it dyed?" She gestured to the green hair.
"No, it's natural. I've been checked a few times, apparently it is possible, just very rare." He admitted, though realizing the atmosphere of the room was getting rather down, he shifted the conversation, reaching for the remotes for the game. "Never mind that, I want to play. Sadao, you said these have accessibility features?"
The night soon commenced, and while he had fun, Izuku could tell someone was staring at him when he wasn't looking. Be it the girl, or Bakugo, he couldn't tell.