"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? Gran 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. Yagi 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. Yagi 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.

Izuku was 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 Mr. Yagi'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, Mr. Yagi had simply asked him to come along for a talk. That talk had become a car ride, driving north towards the Saitama district, the impressive buildings and re-building efforts falling away as they drifted away from the center of Tokyo.

The whole car ride had began mostly silent. Mr. Yagi'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 Mr. Yagi's usual grandfatherly smile and their casual conversation made the silence all the more oppressive.

That grandfatherly smile returned in moments, the oppressive silence lightening as Mr. Yagi slowed the car to point towards locations they drove past. He seemed to recognize the area very well, as he would talk about a history to buildings Izuku could never have puzzled out by looking at them. Some of the buildings were long since abandoned, falling apart, others bore the marks of their age, but still stood regardless, this area seemed largely untouched by the developments in the inner city.

He could see a sadness in the man's eyes, as he told Izuku these stories, sadness that did not reflect in the smile on his face as he shared them. Izuku wondered if the man was telling him everything, as none of the stories seemed the type to invoke such sadness.

Still, he couldn't doubt the honesty of the words, he could see how Mr. Yagi cared about these stories, and liked him enough to share them with. This made Izuku's guilt all the heavier as these brief moments would pass and the contemplative frown would return, then the silence with it.

They pulled off the main road at some point, and now Mr. Yagi seemed to look at every building with the same sad smile, though he didn't point at them, instead they road deeper into what seemed to be one of the many pocket communities that formed in the various areas of Tokyo. Any reconstruction taking place lacked the polish achieved with the technology in the inner city, instead reflecting the resourcefulness of a community who had kept themselves alive during the dark ages.

"Mr. Yagi, I..." The silence eventually drove the guilt in Izuku's heart to the point that he had to apologize, even if he knew he didn't have the right words.

"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, only it appeared more resolute.

"No need, young man." Mr. Yagi 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. The painted lines on the parking lot had long since faded, and the cracks and potholes were filled either sand or gravel, with the occasional weed growing out of what seemed to fresher cracks in the aging tar.

"If anything, I should be apologizing."

The concept stunned Izuku long enough that he didn't speak for the rest of the ride. Mr. Yagi 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 Japan. "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.

Mr. Yagi 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. It's interior was also surprisingly well maintained, especially when contrasted with the decaying infrastructure outside.

The server led them to a booth at the back of the diner, where Mr. Yagicould 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, Mr. Yagi 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."

Mr. Yagi'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..." Mr. Yagi's face briefly tightened, and for a split second Izuku saw a different sadness than he had seen in the car. This was far more potent, and 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, Mr. Yagi 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.

Mr. Yagi 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 Mr. Yagi 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?"

Mr. Yagi 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," Mr. Yagi 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," Mr. Yagi 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," Mr. Yagi 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.

The ride back was far more pleasant, Izuku wasn't sure if it was a high from all the sugar in the float he drank, or his excitement that he'd be able to meet All Might. Likely both. This was probably the same reason the trip felt much shorter, other than the fact that they didn't slow down every few minutes.

As was usual, Mr. Yagi would prefer if they weren't seen together, so Izuku got out of the car about two blocks from Might Tower, and walked towards the building, stars in his eyes the whole way. His enthusiasm dampened a little as he began crossing the Might Tower plaza, noticing a large collection of people at the base of the building. Looking closer he spied camera, microphones, and off to the side he noticed a few news vans parked in the street.

It looks like it HAD been a good idea to not arrive with Mr. Yagi, as there was no way this level of paparazi wouldn't notice them together.

Peering through the crowd, Izuku managed to catch a glimpse of Centipeder, Sir Nighteye's sidekick. The tall hero stood guard at the entrance, his segmented arms folded in a posture of authority. Beside him stood a man in a dark red pinstriped suit. Izuku recognized him as the person often tasked with handling press relations in All Might's absence.

The reporters were chaotic, their voices overlapping in an unintelligible mess of shouted questions. Only a few words stood out: UA. All Might. HPSC. Retiring?

Izuku's stomach churned. Retiring? What were they talking about?

Before he could ask someone, a faint popping sound echoed in his ear. Startled, Izuku turned toward the noise.

Standing in an alley a few streets away, Bubble Girl waved him over with a cheerful but urgent motion.

Bubble Girl led him through the fire exit, sneaking him into the building without drawing the reporters' attention. Most employees on the ground floor seemed preoccupied with the chaos outside, making it easy for the two of them to slip past the reception area and reach the hallway with the elevators.

Izuku instinctively veered toward the elevator he usually took to Recovery Girl's office. But before he could press the button, Bubble Girl grabbed his arm with a laugh.

"No, silly." She grinned, guiding him to the larger ornate elevator at the end of the hall, pressing a button to open the doors. "You're going up the big boy elevator."

Izuku blinked, confusion plastered across his face. "Huh?"

Bubble Girl didn't explain. Instead, she gave him a playful shove into the elevator. "Enjoy!" she said, her cheerful tone accompanied by a mischievous wink as the doors slid shut.

Izuku barely had time to process her words before the elevator jolted to life. It accelerated upward so fast that he lost his balance, falling to the floor with a surprised yelp.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the elevator stopped. The doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing Izuku sprawled on the floor, looking thoroughly disoriented.

He probably stayed on the floor of the elevator a bit too long, as the elevator chimed that the doors would close soon.

He scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off and steadying his wobbly legs as he stepped out into the hallway.

Finding his balance, he tentatively walked towards the doors at the end, even without the label he knew it was the entrance to All Might's office. Stepping towards it, he felt a pang of anxiety, was he allowed to just, walk in? Maybe he should-

"You can come in." Someone from inside said, and Izuku gulped down his anxiety, slowly pushing on the door, and poking his head in.

"H-hi!" Izuku greeted, "I'm—"

"Izuku Midoriya," Sir Nighteye finished smoothly. 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, as he stepped in, his eyes scanning the room but not seeing All Might, only Mr. Yagi next to Sir Nighteye.

"Of course." The hero smiled, stepping forward and reaching out for a handshake, which Izuku obliged, suddenly self conscious about whether his hand was sweaty or not. "All Might has spoken very highly of you."

Izuku's brain short-circuited. His hand froze mid-shake, and his mouth hung open as he processed the statement. The room fell into awkward silence, broken only by Mr. Yagi's exasperated groan.

Sir Nighteye withdrew his hand with some effort, glancing apologetically at Mr. Yagi. "You didn't tell him," he said flatly.

Izuku blinked rapidly, his mind racing to connect the dots. He glanced from Sir Nighteye to Mr. Yagi, then back again, until the pieces finally clicked.

His eyes widened. His hand shot out, pointing at the tall, skinny man. "All Might?!"

All Might—Mr. Yagi—snorted, failing to stifle his laughter at the dramatic reaction.

Sir Nighteye, however, went pale. "I—my deepest apologies, Toshinori! I didn't mean to—"

"Relax," All Might interrupted with a grin, waving him off, then looked at Izuku. "I was worried you might not believe it."

"N-no," Izuku stammered, his mind still reeling. "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. And what you said when we first met too."

"On that note." Sir Nighteye said, glancing between the two. "We have something to speak about."

"Yes, we do," All Might sighed, drawing Izuku's attention once more. "Young Midoriya, I have to come clean, about the promise I made to you when I first met. 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!"