A/N: There are quite a few fanfics where Izuku gets his mother's quirk, or a random mutation, or an odd mix between his mother and father's Quirks. This is my attempt at making one. If it's good, then Great! I'm glad you're able to enjoy it. If not? Meh. Toss it on the pile of other horrible MHA fics. Whatever the case, please enjoy either my rich story craft, or laugh at my pathetic attempts to imitate it.

BTW: Quick warning. Please don't expect me to stick too closely to canon. This is fanfiction, and I want to do some interesting stuff without being chained to the story.

Don't get me wrong, I'll still try and stay true to the essence of the main characters, and the series lore, but I'm also gonna pull a Miles Morales, and "Do my own thing." as it were.

3, Chuckles

(PS. I Don't Own MHA, so don't Sue plz.)

BTW: Quick Warning: This story has some heavy content. This chapter alone has tragedy, Death, Grief, Burns, blood, and a whole truckload of Angst. Reader be warned.

Many years ago…

PopPopPopPopPop*

"Wow, Kaachan! That's amazing! Does it hurt?" I asked as I watched the miniature explosions blossom in Kaachan's hands. He was a little taller than me, with red eyes, and spiky blonde hair that seemed to explode out of their scalp. He stared at the little fireworks crackling in his palms with just as much wonder as I did. The heat and smoke wiped away the chill of winter in the air in short bursts. Kaachan's quirk had only manifested yesterday, and he was still in awe. whipping it out at every opportunity.

"Nah! It kinda tickles! Wanna see?" Cluelessly, I nodded and held out my hand. He grabbed it and- "CRACK!" A sharp, hot pain shot up my arm, and I fell. Smoke rose up from my hand. I looked down to see a black scorch mark surrounding a circular red burn in the middle of my hand. Slowly, blood began to pool in my palm, and drip between my fingers. The heat from the burn throbbed and the pain grew until I could swear that my hand felt like a balloon full of hot needles.

Knocked down with the Quirk equivalent of a cherry bomb going off in my hand, I think I did what any five-year-old kid would do in that situation. I started crying.

"Haha! What are you doing? Don't be a baby, Deku! It's harmless, see?!" Kaachan clapped his hands together and created a loud BAM! that echoed out in the air. He giggled as the explosive force blasted his hands wide open, and a thick stream of smoke cascaded between both his hands painting a grey arc in the air and curling lazily around his fingers.

Then, he actually looked down at my hand, and his smile fell. "Uh oh."

"What's going on?! Midoriya?! What happened?" Our teacher, Mrs. Tsunomedori rushed out to see what the problem was. A middle-aged woman with big glasses and her grey hair tied up in a bun.

"I-It was an accident!-!" Kaachan started, but was interrupted by the teacher, "Midoriya! What were you thinking?! New quirks are dangerous! You can't just go messing around with Bakugo when they are still learning to control themselves! You'll only get hurt!"

Way to state the obvious! I thought to myself rolling around in a haze of pain and tears.

"P-Please, can I see the nurse?" I begged. A dark thought in my head told me to tell on Kaachan to the teacher, but I stamped it down. He didn't know this would happen…

"Of course, you silly boy! Go! And be sure they call your mother, so she can tell you why what you did was so stupid!" She huffed, "Children these days! More power than sense! Bakugo, be sure he gets there alright."

"Okay, glasses!" He chirped, as he pulled me up by my good hand. Even back then, he never bothered to learn anyone's proper names.

"Hmph!" she went back to ignoring us through her paperback novel. The other kids on the playground watched us for a moment, then went back to playing. Injuries like this were common for kids just learning to use their Quirks.

When we were out of the playground, and in the hallway, He turned to me and whispered, "Thanks for not ratting me out! My mom would tear my ear off if she knew what happened."

"I-I wouldn't be a good friend if I did, would I?" I winced tearfully. "Not very heroic at least."

He smirked, "Yup!"

Whatever my Quirk is, I hope it's not this painful… I thought.

"Izuku?" My mom came darting in to pick me up at the nurse's office. She was wearing a hand-knit sweater covered in snowman designs that day. It was early winter, so she had broken out the ugly sweater collection while she was decorating the apartment for Christmas.

"Mommy!" I went to hug her, and she instinctually drew me into her arms with her quirk. Back then, I was still light enough for her to do so easily. She was so warm.

"Oh honey, what happened?" She asked as she fretted over my hand wrapped in Gauze. " I gave Kaachan a Hi -five." I lied. She hissed. "Ohhh that'll do it. Well, let's take you home, and I'll get you some ice cream to make you feel better, okay?"

"Okay!"

After signing me out, she drove me home, rubbed some Aloe into my hand, wrapped it in a fresher bandage, made me take some Tylenol, and then plopped me down on the couch to watch some of the old Superhero cartoons she kept recorded. A Christmas tree decorated with Power Ranger, and Kamen rider ornaments leaned in the corner. The sweet smell of Mom's Christmas cookies flooded the little apartment with notes of gingerbread, cranberries, and chocolate.

All Might didn't have any cartoons, and Mom was sick of me watching his debut tape again after the first fifty times this week, so I had to settle for some fake heroes instead. Back then, my favorite fictional hero was the American hero Spiderman. He was an old character, back from the days before people had Quirks, but I loved him nonetheless, since In my opinion, he was the funniest.

When I was watching Spiderman get into a fistfight with Rhino, cracking jokes, and flipping around the room, something odd happened. I felt dizzy. My face flushed with heat that slowly built until it felt like my brain was boiling in my skull and melting through my nose.

A bowl clattered to the ground, my mom's worried voice shouted, "Izuku?!" and that was the last thing I remembered hearing before the world turned sideways, and I passed out.

…

I woke up in my bed with an Ice pack softly pressed into my forehead. Mom was sitting across from me softly holding my good hand in one fist, and her phone in the other, "…Yes. He just collapsed." She said to whoever was on the other end of the line. Somebody's voice softly murmured to her on the other end, "…Yes. His fever is rising. It's already at 103 degrees, but he's not sweating, or flushed. That's just like you said you were..." She fell silent as whoever she was speaking to began to talk again, "No. No fire yet…" Some more murmuring, then her face twisted into rage, "THIS IS YOUR SON, HISASHI! DON'T YOU DARE-!" she whisper screamed, But once again, she was interrupted. She blinked, then looked at the screen and saw that whoever was on the other end had hung up.

"Unbelievable," she growled.

Was she talking to dad…?

I didn't know what to do. I had never seen my mom angry before. I wanted to hide under the covers but felt too weak. Helpless, and exhausted, I closed my eyes again and disappeared into a dreamless sleep under my All Might blanket.

…

Fwoosh

…

Fwooshhhh

…

Fwooshhhh…

A ghostly green light spread throughout my room, flickered, then faded away.

Fwoosh…

My eyes fluttered open, and I saw a small plume of green fire stretching out in front of my face. Every soft breath I exhaled brought the gently dancing green light back. The sun had fallen, but I could feel the light wiping away the chill winter air that had leaked in from outside, and warm my face.

pretty… I wonder what it is…

Fwoosh.

Wait… Am I doing this…?

"Bwuh?!" I shot up. The small noise that jumped out of my mouth came bursting from my lips in another puff of fire. My half-asleep mind was still barely aware of what was happening.

"Wooooah" I whispered to myself. I felt a small tug in my chest bring the bright fire to life. I could only sit and stare in amazement as the soft exclamation came out as another small burst of light and fire. It was a gorgeous blue jet in the middle closest to my mouth, surrounded by darker emerald green tongues towards the edges. little sparks of orange flickered and sparked around the furthest tips of each flame, and danced around in the air as the green fire disappeared. The fire lit up my room, and all my All Might action figures in soft flickering shadows before fading away.

"WOOOAH!" I shouted. My excited shout drew a sharper tug from my chest, warmed my throat, and sent a cantaloupe-sized fireball into the wall, and that was where my excitement and wonder died.

Crackle… Wonder turned to horror, as I watched the All Might poster I begged my mom to buy at the comic book store last month blacken, and curl into itself. The green fire on the wall slowly bled into orange and began to hungrily devour the rest of the poster before it spread to the wallpaper. "No!" I shouted but immediately regretted it as the soft puff of flame sent sparks that landed on the carpet, which immediately began to catch fire. The more I breathed and shouted, the sharper the tug in my chest felt.

"MOM!" I screamed, but that only made things worse as fire leaped out of my mouth and clung to my bedroom door. I clapped my hand over my mouth, but it was the injured one blasted by Kaachan. The soft cotton gauze wrapped around my hand caught fire, and the pain in my hand intensified a hundredfold. I was trapped in a room that was quickly filling with smoke and the scent of burning vinyl, drywall, and skin. The hot pain in my hand was excruciating. I swatted the burning gauze off and watched helplessly as I added more tinder to the flame.

I screamed. My hand was still clamping my mouth shut, but it didn't matter. Twin jets of fire blasted out of my nose and scorched both of my hands.

"Izuku…?" My mom dreamily wondered as she came wandering into my room in her nightgown. Then her eyes snapped open in abject horror. "IZUKU!"

WHAM

She slammed the door open, which smacked the wall, spreading the fire even further.

"I didn't think it would evolve so fast! Baby, are you okay?" She asked, but the air was quickly becoming choked with greasy black smoke. The fire alarms on the ceiling began to shriek in panic.

I was too afraid to answer her. Too afraid to breathe. Too afraid to move. She moved fast, snatching me up into her arms, and began to run me towards the door, but just as she reached the door handle, the worst possible thing happened.

Outside of my line of sight, a small mote of green fire, which dissolved through the walls faster than any normal fire should, ate into a pipe that was hidden in my wall. I couldn't see it then, but it was marked by big bold letters labeling it, "Gas Main."

BOOOOOOOM!

The air was sucked out of our apartment by an almighty fireball. Shards of wood, metal, plaster and concrete shredded through our home taking everything away from me in one single sharp blast. The shockwave smacked into both of us like the fist of a vengeful god. We tumbled and fell. Somewhere, I hit my head, and was yanked again into a dreamless sleep.

"-And second-degree burns all across his right side… His right humerus, clavicle, and parietal bone exhibit signs of hairline fractures. Temperature is abnormally high, but this doesn't seem to be causing the patient any obvious adverse symptoms…" A calm, clinical voice spoke somewhere above me. I was sitting in a void beyond all sensations other than sound. my brain was slowly blinking back online piece by piece. First I could hear the faint beeping of diagnostic machines. Then the soft whirring of machinery. The tinny ringing in my ears, then, I smelt the sterile chemicals of a doctor's office. There was a faint sense of movement around me. Was the room moving…?

"…all lucky that Backdraft was on patrol. The casualty numbers from the incident were reduced by at least forty percent…" The Clinical voice continued. Backdraft? The firefighter hero…?

Wait…The fire… MOM!

I forced my eyes open, and immediately regretted it. Everything was doubled, and there was a slowly receding shadow in the peripherals of my vision. Bright light glared at me from above, which sent shooting pain into my skull. I was in a small room. One with barely enough room for the stretcher I was strapped into and the two people in blue uniforms wearing surgical masks. *"Oh. He's coming to… poor kid…"

"Mrph?" I grunted. My mouth had some kind of black iron mask over it that pressed something cold into my tongue, pouring something down my throat. A hose was hooked into it that went somewhere under the stretcher. An indicator light on it blinked for a moment.

"Hey, kiddo…" The other paramedic's deep voice softly greeted me. He was big, with shiny metal hands, a clipboard, and a buzzed head. "You've had a bad day, but we'll take care of you, okay?" The clinical one stared down at me with a detached air, letting their partner talk. Their eyes were two unnerving solid black voids, and they had stark white hair pulled back into a short ponytail. "Don't mind my buddy. She's awkward, but a real sweetheart. She patched you up, gave you some nice drugs, and kept your noggin' from leaking. Those eyes of hers can also see your bones like an X-ray! Ain't that neat?"

His partner huffed quietly and made themselves busy checking the diagnostic machine I was attached to.

"Mph." I tried to say yes. That was awesome, but the mask muffled me again. The indicator attached to it beeped again. It was annoying, so I tried to take it off, but I couldn't. My hands were belted tight to the stretcher by padded cuffs. "Mph?"

"Sorry about that mask thingy, kiddo. That's to keep us safe. You were breathing fire everywhere, and that mask is supposed to keep you from turning this ambulance into an oven." I sighed. Partially in relief, and partially in annoyance. "The cuffs are meant to keep you from taking it off. I'm sure you're a good kid, but we need to make sure you keep wearing that thing. Don't worry, you look super cool!" He assured me with a shiny silver thumbs up and a grin. He spoke in that fake cheery tone of voice that all adults use when they told a comforting lie.

I was conflicted. On one hand, I didn't have to worry about every breath and sound I made setting something on fire. On the other, the mask was super uncomfortable, and I couldn't close my mouth like I wanted to. My jaw was starting to ache, and I couldn't even reach up to rub it.

Where's mom…? I tried to ask but wasn't able. Miss Clinical passed me a pen, and a small pad of paper to write on. I was barely able to write out my question in my Kindergarten level Hiragana. どこママ?

Miss Clinical's breath hitched, and she looked away suddenly more comfortable with watching the road stretch behind her through the back window.

"She's… going into surgery soon. We'll let you know more when we can." Metal Hands stated uncomfortably. "We're only a few minutes away from the hospital. We'll get you a nice, cozy bed, and they'll be sure to take care of your burns and bruises. Okay?"

"Mph," I grunted.

It wasn't like I could say anything else.

I was left waiting in that bed for ages. Was it hours? Days? I couldn't tell. I was in a room of other people separated only by curtains. They blocked out any view I'd get of the sun.

They never took off the cuffs or the mask. The IV in my arm was pumping a thick cocktail of drugs into me that made time flow like water. Nurses and the occasional doctor came and went from my room. They would fiddle with the medical equipment, change my bandages, and talk about me like I wasn't there. I couldn't hear them. Whatever was hooked into my arm made my ears buzz, and the sounds they made lost meaning.

After a small eternity. I blinked and saw I was in a different, bigger room with a window, and a little tv hanging above me. The drugs wore thin, and I finally had visitors. They weren't my mom or my dad.

"Oh, god. Izuku…" It was Miss Bakugo, Mom's best friend. She was like a bigger, girlier Kaachan. With the same red eyes, and spiky puffball hair. She looked like she had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Her hand was covering her mouth in shock. Standing behind her with a big hand on her shoulder was Mr. Bakugo. He was unimposing for someone so muscular. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, and a thin mustache.

"I understand that it's upsetting to see him attached to all that equipment in his current condition, but we are in a facility full of highly combustible materials. If a fire starts here, the entire building will end up like his home. " A snake-headed doctor told her gently. "Don't touch the mask or the cuffs. A Hero will come by in a few minutes that can nullify his quirk, and you can talk to him then."

"…Just get out." She hissed. The doctor nodded placidly, but said, "An orderly will be watching you through that camera to ensure the mask isn't removed. I'll give you about twenty minutes of privacy." he stated, then left.

"Honestly, restraining him like some kind of villain?! The nerve! He's just a sweet little boy, Masaru!" Miss Bakugo yelled. Mr. Bakugo put a vase of flowers on my nightstand, tied a balloon to my bed, and sat in a chair next to me. "With all the quirks we see every day, it's easy to forget just how dangerous they can be. If Katsuki had an accident like this…"

Miss Bakugo winced. "Don't say that… I-I can't imagine…"

I'm right here. Hi! I tried saying, but it only came out as another-"Mph!". I tried waving. That was about the extent of what I was able to do in my cuffs.

"Hey, sweetheart. I know you probably wanna see Katsuki instead of us, but he's in class at the moment." Miss Bakugo said with a small smile.

I pointed at the notepad that was left on my bed. "どこママ?" It still said. Where's Mom? I tried asking every person who walked into my room, but they only said vague things or left quickly.

"Y-Your… Mom? They didn't tell you?" Mrs. Bakugo whispered. The way her eyes teared up made my heart plummet into my gut.

No… No… Nonononononononono…

"They… Probably wanted him to hear it from someone he knew…" Mr. Bakugo sighed heavily. He seemed to age a few years as he slumped tiredly in his chair wiping at his eyes.

"Izuku, honey… Y-Your mother…" Mrs. Bakugo's breath hitched. "Sh-She… She…" She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "She was so brave, Izuku. Inko was always so. brave. She protected you. When your house exploded, she kept you safe in her arms, but she couldn't protect herself. The blast hurt her too badly. The Paramedics tried to save her, but… She was too weak to survive the surgery. She passed away a few hours ago…"

…

Time stopped. I was trapped in one terrible moment, where I wanted nothing more than to wake up from this terrible reality under my All Might blanket, with my mom holding my hand, but this horrible nightmare just kept going.

My mom is dead…?

I wanted to scream. I wanted to call her a liar. I wanted to tear the hospital apart and look for my mom to prove her wrong. She was fine just a little while ago! She was making cookies, decorating the house, and arguing with my dad! How could she just be… Gone? She's the nicest person in the whole world! HOW COULD SHE JUST DIE?! SHE CAN'T BE DEAD!

…She's gone because I killed her. A small, terrified voice said in my head. I killed her with this stupid-Stupid-STUPID Quirk…

I felt cold. Sweaty. sick. My body was trembling, and clammy. I wanted to vomit, and cry, and scream, and tear my hair out, but I couldn't do anything but lay on the bed I was trapped in and sob. The mask made it hard to breathe correctly. Somehow, it altered how the air flowed through my lungs. Maybe that was how it kept the fire away.

Mrs. Bakugo's hand rested on mine. "Izuku… I'm so sorry." She sobbed and sniffled. Mr. Bakugo rubbed circles into her back. "I-It's not your fault. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I-It could happen to anyone. You couldn't control your Quirk, and it was… It was…" She sniffed, "D-Damnit, I can't do this! Masaru! I-I can't do this!" Just like that, Mrs. Bakugo, the strongest woman I knew snapped. Her head fell into her hands, and she broke down into deep wracking sobs.

…

"…So. This is the dangerous Firestarter?" A tired voice came from the door. He was a young adult with long, scraggly black hair. He had an unshaven face and bloodshot eyes that were surrounded by dark circles. He wore a black jumpsuit and had a grey scarf wrapped around his neck.

Sniff. "You're the hero the Hospital called?" Mr. Bakugo asked.

"Yup. Eraser Head. They gave me the key to this thing. One sec." He scratched at the back of his neck and began to undo the locks holding the mask to my face. Mr. Bakugo began to say, "I'm sorry we're taking the time out of your-"

"-Stop. The platitudes are a waste of breath. I'm a Hero. I use my Quirk to help people, not just fight criminals. Children are especially important. Each experience in their life right now is foundational to whatever they may become in the future." He stated calmly. "For good, or ill. Okay, kid. Take a deep breath and hold it." He stared at me until I nodded, and he began to pull my mask off or, rather, out. The iron mask was hooked up to a rubber tube that ran down my throat. One much longer than I originally thought. A chill went over my body, and I shuddered and gagged, as the hose scraped against my throat, then blissfully, Plok. It was out. Finally.

The first breath I took felt heavenly. Then, I felt the soreness in my throat come roaring back, and I dissolved into a fit of coughs.

No fire… Thank goodness…

"I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean… I couldn't stop it." My voice rasped. The hero shrugged and he unlocked the cuffs. Finally I was able to massage my tired jaw, and my wrists that were rubbed raw by the handcuffs.

"Quirks don't come with instruction manuals or training wheels" He said, ". It's a miracle this kind of accident doesn't happen more often."

"…" I didn't know what to say. I was expecting a lecture, or someone to yell at me, or something. Not… this. Eraser Head's eyes were glowing red. Whatever he was doing to suppress my quirk felt like they were flooding my lungs with ice.

"…what now?" I rasped. My mom's dead, and my home was burned to the ground. What did I have now?

"Now…?" Eraser Head scratched at the stubble on his chin, "Quirk Counseling, I guess. The government would probably want to put you under some temporary psychiatric care with a quirk counselor to make sure that this accident doesn't happen again. Meanwhile, your next of kin will be called to take pick you up. Either your godparents or any other extended family. If neither are available, then you'll probably be taken into foster care." He shrugged, "That's all conjecture, though. I don't deal with this often. I'm mostly the guy who is called to take down criminals. Counseling kids on loss is new to me."

My eyes welled up with tears, and he shifted in place uncomfortably.

Shuffling forward, he gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder, "Life moves on. What matters is whether or not you decide to keep living." He slipped back and sat in a chair. Keeping a glowing eye on me all the while, "In the meantime? I'll be keeping an eye on this one in case his Quirk decides to act up again."

"Thank you-" Mr. Bakugo tried to say, but he was cut off again, "-Thanks is unnecessary. I'm paid to do this, and I trained for almost a decade to do this exact job."

As the Bakugos left, Eraser Head and I fell into an uneasy silence. He was watching to ensure that I didn't blast more fire into the care ward, and I was still trying to parse through the fact that my mom was dead. Next of kin… Like my father? Does he even care? He's probably happy doing whatever business stuff he's got going on in America…

Elsewhere…

Crack! The left hook blasted into the greasy Vulture's beak with satisfying finality. Hisashi felt the man's jaw give way and shatter under the force of his punch. The old bird put up a fight to be sure. Those bladed feathers were giving him trouble, but like most things, they burned easily under the force of his breath.

Ding *Ding Ding! The bell sounded.

"AND THE WINNER IS…!

THE DRAGON OF THE EAST! SEEEEEIIIIRYUUUUUUU!" The announcer bellowed in exultation. Boos and cheers blasted through the underground arena in equal measure. Hisashi couldn't care less. He was too tired and sore to care. Dozens of cuts that marked his skin stung and bled.

His only value to the audience was whether or not they got any returns on their bets anyway. That was the whole point of the Underground Masquerade. Bloodsport, Entertainment, and Betting. Sure, the fights were illegal, but Hisashi didn't care as long as he got his cut.

"So long as Inko is okay, I'm okay…" was his mantra. So long as he was thinking of her, he hadn't lost a fight yet. She was stressed about their son developing his Quirk, but Hisashi didn't see any issues. He never got sick with all the fire in his veins. If Izuku was developing his abilities, then he'd be fine too. He hadn't even breathed out a spark of fire yet. What was there to worry about?

The walk back to the locker room was a short one. He got pelted with bits of trash from the sour people who lost their money, but he managed to cow the ornery guests with a warning blast of blue fire jets through his nose. He made sure to make eye contact with anyone who dared mess with him. No one bothered to toss anything at him after that. They saw his Quirk melt through steel this afternoon. They weren't excited to see what he could do to them if he was properly motivated.

"Ooookay, moving on. Let's go kid! Get a move on! Go go go!" His manager prodded him. "Let's get ya cleaned up! You've earned a nice dinner! You and yer girl piece at home." The old man grinned, his mustache forming two thumbs up.

Hisashi grunted in response. The Californian Condor was just the latest in a long line of punks he'd beaten. There would be more, but he was ready. He was made to fight after all. What else was there?

Riiiiiing His phone was waiting for him in his changing room on a bench. The caller ID was Central Mustafu Hospital.

Then Hisashi answered his phone, and his entire world fell apart.

A/N: This Chapter was rough to write. It draws from some very real experiences I had from a time when I nearly died from a class four hemorrhage, and woke up on life support in the ICU with a tube down my throat.

As for Hisashi? I was inspired by MHA vigilantes. There's some art of a fighter from the Underground Masquerade breathing fire. So far as I know, that's the only character in the canon who has shown that ability.

Therefore, I decided that Hisashi Midoriya is an illegal underground gladiator, but he lies to his wife about being a salaryman. Simple, and a good way to write a character that will likely act as Izuku's mentor. I'll reveal the rest of his backstory later if I feel like it.

As you've probably figured out by now, Izuku's story is gonna be pretty friggin' dark this go-around. Prepare for drama!