The city had been waiting. Every corner, every district, every home with a television set or a radio tuned in, every street where massive digital billboards broadcast breaking news, each one had the same headline.

BREAKING NEWS: PRO HERO RAID AGAINST THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS—MIDORIYA IZUKU SAVED.

In an office building overlooking downtown Tokyo, a team of salarymen gathered around a large television mounted on the wall. The long wooden table, previously occupied by spreadsheets, reports, and neglected coffee cups, had been abandoned in favor of the screen, which displayed the unmistakable logo of Daily Hero, Japan's leading news channel. The red banner flashing the words Breaking News pulsed against their tense expressions.

One man in a navy-blue suit reached for the remote, turning the volume higher as the sound of shuffling papers filled the broadcast.

"Are they finally going to tell us?" one of the women at the table asked, shifting anxiously in her chair.

Across the city, pedestrians gathered at the intersection. The colossal screen overlooking the street, usually displaying advertisements for hero merchandise, now displayed a live newsroom feed. The usual chatter of the crowd dwindled as more and more people tilted their heads, some whispering amongst themselves, others standing in silence.

A mother, holding her son's hand tightly, felt the boy tug at her sleeve. "Mom, it's about the U.A. kid," he said, wide-eyed. "The one who got taken."

She looked down at her son, then back at the screen. The weight of the past week settled in her chest like a stone. She squeezed his hand and whispered, "Let's listen."

At a small family-owned ramen shop near Musutafu, the elderly shop owner turned the volume up on the old radio perched beside the register. The other patrons, mostly locals, quieted as the familiar voice of the Daily Hero anchor resonated through the shop.

Then, finally, the broadcast began, the backdrop adorned with the insignia of U.A. High School and the official seal of the Japanese Hero Public Safety Commission.

At the podium stood Principal Nezu, his small frame composed but unwavering, his sharp, intelligent eyes scanning the gathered press. To his right, the Police Commissioner.

Nezu spoke directly into the microphone.

"As of 3:27 AM this morning, a high-risk operation was successfully executed against the League of Villains. This mission, a coordinated effort between the Hero Public Safety Commission, the Pro Hero community, and law enforcement, resulted in the dismantling of a major criminal organization that has plagued our society for too long."

The murmurs from the press corps were immediate, but Nezu continued before any could interrupt.

"The operation was not without peril," Nezu continued, voice steady. "Many brave heroes and officers risked their lives to ensure the safety of the people of this country, and I am proud to report that due to their efforts, one of our most vulnerable has been recovered."

He let the words sink in before finally delivering what the world had been waiting for. "Midoriya Izuku, a U.A. student who was kidnapped during the USJ attack, has been safely rescued and is currently recovering in an undisclosed location under medical care. He is alive. He is safe. And he is receiving the treatment he needs after enduring captivity."

A mixture of shocked gasps, scribbling pens, a cacophony of voices rising at once, demanding to know more.

"Principal Nezu! What condition is he in?"

"Is it true he was used by the League?"

"What do we know about his involvement?"

The Chief Commissioner raised a hand, commanding silence before speaking.

"At this time, we are treating Midoriya Izuku as a victim of abduction. Our investigation is ongoing, but there is no reason to believe he was a willing participant in the League of Villains' activities."

Nezu nodded, his eyes sharp despite the neutral expression on his face. "Given the sensitive nature of this situation, we ask the media to respect the privacy of both Midoriya and his loved ones as we conduct further inquiries."

Another voice cut through the noise.

"What about the League of Villains? What's their current status?"

Nezu paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to settle. "Several high-profile villains were taken into custody. However, many of their key members, including their leader, Shigaraki Tomura remain at large."

The murmurs grew louder as people had been waiting for a clean victory, but reality was never that simple. The League had suffered a major loss, yet it was not over. Not yet.

The Police Commissioner stepped forward. "While the capture of all League members was not possible, the mission's success should not be understated. The priority was to ensure the safety of Midoriya Izuku, a victim of abduction and cruel mistreatment at the hands of the League." His voice was firm, authoritative, each word deliberate. "I want to make one thing clear… Midoriya Izuku was a hostage, not an ally to these criminals."

A collective exhale seemed to sweep through the room, both in the conference hall and in the living rooms, cafes, and shops across the country. The speculation had been rampant, the fear that a U.A. student had fallen to villainy lingering like a shadow over society.

Nezu's expression remained unreadable. "The trauma he endured is unimaginable," he continued. "And while there is much that must still be understood about the events that transpired, one thing remains certain, Midoriya Izuku was a target. A pawn in the League's attempt to strike at the foundation of hero society."

The lights overhead buzzed slightly as reporters scrambled to raise their hands, questions already forming in their minds. Nezu, ever the tactician, did not falter.

"There will be further investigations," he stated, his tone measured. "But for now, our priority is the recovery of Midoriya Izuku and ensuring that such an event never happens again."

The Police Commissioner leaned into the microphone. "Effective immediately, U.A. will be reinforcing its security measures. Pro-heroes will be stationed at the school around the clock. The safety of our students is not up for debate."

Yet the media did not relent, they would scoop up anything they could find.

In the crowd, a reporter stood, his voice cutting through the noise. "Can you confirm the extent of Midoriya's involvement? There were rumors—"

Nezu's small ears twitched. "I understand the concern," he interjected smoothly. "But I will not entertain rumors. The facts remain as stated—Midoriya was held against his will and was ultimately rescued."

A carefully chosen statement. Not a direct lie. Not the full truth.

Because the real truth—the pieces that didn't fit, the contradictions, the horrific revelations… Those were matters that could never see the light of day.

"For now," Nezu finished calmly, "I suggest you all take solace in the fact that this city… this country, is safer today than it was yesterday." The broadcast continued, but for many, the most important part had already been heard.

Across Japan, a mother hugged her son tightly, relief flooding through her as she whispered, "They saved him."

In the streets, the murmurs turned into conversations, a sense of something shifting, of the first step toward resolution. In the office building, the salarymen exchanged glances before one finally exhaled, shaking his head. "That kid," he muttered. "I hope he makes it through this."

And inside the walls of U.A., the students of 1-A had been waiting for days. The silence that followed the broadcast was deafening.

"He's… really safe?" Uraraka's voice broke the stillness. She was seated at the front of the room, her hands curled tightly on her lap.

Iida adjusted his glasses. "Principal Nezu was clear… Midoriya has been rescued." His voice was firm, but there was an edge of uncertainty to it, something even he couldn't completely mask.

Kirishima leaned forward, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table. "But why did it take this long? Why couldn't we know sooner?" His sharp eyes flicked toward Aizawa, who stood near the whiteboard, his expression unreadable.

The teacher had been silent since the broadcast started, arms crossed over his chest, his usual exhausted demeanor hiding something deeper. Relief. Fear. Exhaustion. A tangled mess of emotions he wasn't sure how to navigate.

He sighed. "Because this isn't something that can be explained in a single sentence." His gaze swept over the class, lingering on each of them. "You wanted to know if he was safe. Now you do."

Aizawa continued after a long pause. "I know you have questions and that you all have things you want to say." He exhaled through his nose, scanning the classroom as he slowly leaned against his desk. "So say them now."

A moment of hesitation. Then, the dam broke.

"Why weren't we told anything sooner?" Yaoyorozu asked first, her hands trembled. "We spent days not knowing if he was even alive."

"I get why they didn't want to worry us," Kaminari added, scratching at his scalp, "but c'mon, we're his classmates. His friends."

Jirou nodded. "We should've been told something. We were all thinking about him anyway."

Aizawa listened, allowing their frustrations to be voiced. He hadn't expected them to accept this easily. "We kept quiet because we didn't want to raise false hope," Aizawa explained. "There was a real chance Midoriya wouldn't be found, or worse. We couldn't risk spreading rumors or misinformation, not with how much was already at stake."

That answer did little to soothe them.

"Is he okay?" Uraraka finally asked, her voice breaking slightly. "Like, really okay?"

"He's recovering." Aizawa responded. The words were clipped, but there was an odd gentleness in his tone. "Physically, at least. He'll need time." The weight of those words was not lost on them. Physically, at least. What did that mean for the rest of him?

Shouji, who had been eerily quiet until now, finally raised his head. "And his family?" His voice was softer than usual. "Did they say anything? His mom must be worried sick. They barely even mentioned her."

At that, Aizawa's jaw tensed. "Inko Midoriya was notified as soon as we had confirmation of his survival," he said carefully. "She knows he's safe. But… as you can imagine, this has been hard on her."

Momo's hands gripped the edge of her desk tightly. "No parent should have to go through this," she murmured, shaking her stretched, the weight of those words pressing against them.

"When is he coming back?" Kirishima finally spoke up, sitting forward, his red eyes searching for something more hopeful in Aizawa's words. "Is he coming back?"

Aizawa closed his eyes briefly before answering. "In two or three days. Not long. But you're all going to need to take it easy on him when he does."

Iida nodded, standing from his chair in one swift motion. "We would never overwhelm him if he is still recovering."

Aizawa met his gaze, his expression sharp. "That's not what I mean." He let his words settle before continuing. "When Midoriya comes back, things are going to feel different. For him, for you, for this class." He scanned the room, making sure each and every one of them was listening. "You can't treat him like some untouchable victim, but you also can't act like nothing has changed. Because things have changed."

The gravity of his words settled into them. They all felt it. The truth that no one wanted to say out loud. Midoriya might be coming back, but the Midoriya that left them that day at USJ may not be the one walking through that door.

"Whatever happened to him… however much he remembers or doesn't remember… he has been through something that none of us can fully understand yet," Aizawa continued, his voice steady but carrying an edge of something almost wary. "So I need all of you to go easy on him"

That was when it truly sank in. The murmurs grew louder, shifting into something uncertain, something almost nervous. Midoriya was returning. He would be in the classroom again. He would sit beside them again. But would he still be the same?

Denki let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "So that means…" He trailed off, not entirely sure what he was even trying to say.

"You're all worried. I get that. So am I." Aizawa's voice softened ever so slightly. "But he's been through something that's going to take time to recover from. And you all need to be patient."

"So we wait?" Mina asked quietly. "We wait and act like everything's normal?"

"No," Aizawa answered. "You wait, and when he returns, you act like his friends. Because that's what he's going to need the most." He straightened, moving away from the whiteboard. The room was still, a silence hanging in the air like an unspoken agreement. No one spoke, no one moved. The students sat with that for a long moment.

"Then we'll do what we can," Kirishima finally said, nodding. "When he gets back… we'll be there for him." He gave a small grin, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Uraraka swallowed, gripping the fabric of her uniform tightly. "Of course."

Iida adjusted his glasses, nodding firmly. "Naturally. We are his classmates. More than that, we are his friends."

"Yeah," Mina agreed, wiping her eyes. "That's all we can do, right?"

Todoroki remained quiet, but his gaze lingered on Aizawa for a moment longer, searching for something. And then, finally, he nodded.

Aizawa exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Good." His tone softened just a little. "Because I don't know what kind of state he'll be in when he gets here." He paused one last time as he looked at his students, the room's atmosphere wasn't as dark anymore.

"Class is dismissed for today," Aizawa said at last. "Go get some air."

The soft hum of the heart monitor was the only sound in the hospital room. The steady beep, beep, beep provided a rhythm that Izuku found himself focusing on more than anything else. It was grounding, in a way. After the whirlwind of the past few days, after the rescue, the interrogation, the judgment. It was finally quiet.

His body still ached, though the worst of the pain had been numbed by Recovery Girl's treatment. She had visited him the day after the broadcast, her small, wrinkled face lined with exhaustion as she inspected the lingering damage on his body. Despite her age, she had worked tirelessly to mend what she could. But there were things even she could not fix. Wounds that went deeper than flesh.

In the two days following the announcement, Nezu, alongside the police, had formally briefed him. He was innocent and that he would be allowed to return to U.A.

Izuku had smiled. He had bowed his head and expressed nothing but pure gratitude. He was thankful. He was relieved. But there was something else, something hollow that gnawed at his chest. The pain, the torture he had endured, it lived inside him now, a shadow that refused to fade.

The first night, he had woken up gasping, hands clawing at the sheets as the walls of his hospital room blurred with phantom images of the cold, unyielding stone of his cell. A shadow, a trembling voice, anger… It had taken two nurses to calm him down, whispering reassurances while gently untangling his trembling fingers from his blanket.

By the second day, he was able to mask it better. He smiled when spoken to, thanked the doctors and nurses for their help. But he remained in a limbo state, his emotions tangled between joy and an unshakable unease.

It was on the third day that he was finally allowed a visitor.

The door burst open with a force that startled him, and before he could fully register what was happening, he was enveloped in warmth.

"Izuku!"

His mother's voice was thick with emotion, her arms wrapping tightly around him, as if she were afraid he would disappear if she let go. She sobbed openly against his shoulder, her body trembling, and Izuku could only blink in shock before realization set in. His lips parted, and his hands shakily rose, hesitating before he returned her embrace.

"Mom…" His voice cracked, raw and quiet, as his fingers gripped the back of her sweater.

"You're here," she wept, pulling back just enough to cup his face, her thumbs wiping away tears he hadn't even realized had begun to fall. "You're really here."

Izuku swallowed, trying to steady his voice. "I'm okay, Mom."

"You are not okay!" she countered, her voice shrill, eyes red-rimmed from what must have been sleepless nights. "You were taken from me, Izuku! You were gone, and I—" She hiccupped, shaking her head as she tried to compose herself. "I thought… I thought I lost you forever."

Izuku's lips trembled, and he gave her a wobbly smile. "But you didn't," he whispered. "I'm back."

A new voice entered the room. "As promised."

Izuku turned his head, his breath catching in his throat. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, was All Might.

For a moment, Izuku simply stared, processing the sight of his greatest idol standing there, safe and whole. He had seen him during the rescue, of course, had felt those strong arms lifting him from his prison. But now, standing in the warm light of the hospital room, with the weight of everything behind them, it felt… different.

"All Might." The name left him in a breath of pure reverence.

The hero smiled, stepping inside. "Midoriya, it's good to see you awake."

Izuku let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "I… I don't think I'd be here if it weren't for you." He hesitated before saying, "Thank you for saving me."

All Might's expression softened. "There was never a world where I wouldn't have."

Inko, having mostly regained her composure, turned to the towering hero and narrowed her teary eyes. "You promised me, All Might."

The sudden shift in tone caught both Izuku and All Might off guard.

"You promised me you'd bring my son back," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. Then, she stepped forward and jabbed her finger into his chest. "If you had broken that promise, I swear I would've found a way to make you regret it."

Izuku's eyes widened in horror. "Mom!"

All Might, to his credit, raised his hands in surrender, laughing sheepishly. "I had no intention of breaking it, I assure you."

Inko huffed, crossing her arms before her features softened once more. "Still," she murmured, "thank you. I don't think I can ever repay you."

All Might smiled. "Your son's safety is more than enough."

Izuku felt warmth blossom in his chest for the first time in what felt like forever. For just a moment, in the safety of that room, surrounded by the two people who cared him most, the weight of everything seemed lighter.

But then, All Might's expression shifted, his brows furrowing slightly. "Midoriya," he began carefully. "You know you'll be allowed to return to U.A. But I have to ask, can you still use your quirk?"

The question sent an immediate jolt through Izuku. The warmth faded slightly as something cold coiled in his stomach. "I…" He hesitated, looking down at his hands. "I don't think so."

All Might stiffened. "What?"

Izuku swallowed hard. "I—I can't feel it anymore. It's just… gone." He shook his head, his fingers clenching into the sheets. "I don't know why, but when I was at the hideout… when I was trapped, restrained… I felt something different. Something inside me, but it was gone a moment later." He exhaled sharply, frustrated. "It wasn't my quirk."

All Might frowned, stepping closer. "Let's test it right now." He was concerned about the last part, but everything was uncertain at this point.

Izuku nodded slowly, bracing himself. All Might gently raised his hand, placing his palm against Izuku's shoulder. "If you still had your quirk, even a simple push should trigger a reaction." He applied the faintest bit of pressure.

Nothing.

Izuku's heart dropped. All Might tried again, firmer this time. Still, nothing. All Might's jaw clenched, his eyes dark with realization. This… wasn't normal.

Inko, who had been watching with growing concern, clutched her hands to her chest. "Izuku…? He was still concerned about the fact that he even had a quirk to begin with..."

Izuku looked down at his hands, his fingers trembling. His quirk was gone. His fingers trembled slightly as if trying to grasp at something that simply wasn't there. The empty feeling in his chest deepened, spreading through his limbs like a slow-moving sickness. His quirk was gone? The very thing that had given him strength, but how did he even get it in the first place? He remembered never having a quirk to begin with… he kept this to himself.

All Might remained still, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. Inko, on the other hand, reached for her son's hand, holding it between her own as if she could anchor him to reality. Her grip was warm, familiar, and yet, it did nothing to quiet the unease coiling inside Izuku's chest.

Izuku took a shaky breath. "I don't understand," he murmured. "How… how does a quirk just disappear?"

All Might exhaled through his nose, his hands balling into fists. "It doesn't. Not like this." His gaze was sharp, searching. "Midoriya, think carefully. When did you first feel that something was wrong?"

Izuku's brows furrowed. He wanted to answer, but everything was hazy, fragmented pieces of memory that didn't quite fit together. And then—

"There was someone."

Both All Might and Inko looked at him sharply. Izuku blinked, his lips parting slightly as the realization came forth, slow and unsteady. "When I was… in the room. The chains, the restraints…" His breathing hitched slightly, remembering the cold metal cutting into his skin. "There was someone there. A man. He wore a mask."

All Might's entire posture shifted. His fingers curled tighter, but his expression remained carefully neutral. "A mask?" he repeated, his voice unnervingly calm.

Izuku nodded slowly. "I couldn't see his face. It was covered, but… his voice was deep. Almost… soothing." A chill ran through his spine at the memory. "He told me that I would be saved. That everything would work out."

Inko inhaled sharply, her grip on Izuku's hand tightening. "Izuku, are you sure?"

He nodded. "It didn't make sense. He didn't hurt me. He didn't even seem like he was there to threaten me. It was like he already knew what was going to happen. Like he knew you were coming." He looked at All Might, confusion clouding his features. "But I don't know who he was. I don't remember anything else."

All Might's face tightened, because everything he had heard come from this boy's mouth sounded too similar. If he was right—if he was back… He wanted to dismiss it, to say that it wasn't possible, that they had finally rid the world of that monster. But the gnawing doubt remained.

Shoving the thought aside, he forced his shoulders to relax. He couldn't let them see the sheer dread that threatened to overtake him. Instead, he turned toward Inko and Izuku, his face shifting into something softer.

"We'll look into it," he said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "For now, let's focus on your recovery."

Izuku blinked. "But…"

All Might lifted a hand, cutting him off. "You've been through more than anyone should have to endure. You're safe now. Let that be enough, at least for today."

Inko exhaled shakily, brushing a hand over his hair. "You don't have to force yourself, Izuku," she murmured. "You've been through so much already. Just focus on getting better."

All Might nodded, pushing his suspicions to the back of his mind for now. There was no proof, only an unsettling feeling in his gut, and until he knew more, he wouldn't let it overshadow what truly mattered in this moment.

He took a breath, then straightened, shifting his attention back to Izuku and his mother. "There's something else I need to say," he began, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. "Something long overdue."

Izuku tilted his head, blinking. "What is it?"

All Might let his hands rest on his hips, looking down at the boy who had been through hell and back, the boy who had wanted nothing more than to be a hero since the moment he could dream. And now, that dream had been crushed, torn from him in a way that not even he fully understood yet.

He sighed. "I need to apologize."

The room stilled. Inko looked at him in surprise, while Izuku only stared, confused. "Apologize?" he echoed.

All Might's jaw tensed before he spoke again. "For what I told you… that day when we first met." His voice was quieter now, the weight of those words pressing down on him. "When you asked me if someone without a quirk could be a hero. I told you… you couldn't."

Izuku blinked, tilting his head slightly. "You… said that?"

All Might's breath hitched, just for a second.

"He doesn't remember."

Aizawa had warned All Might that even further gaps in Izuku's memory were inevitable given what he had been through, but hearing it firsthand, seeing the blankness in the boy's eyes where there should have been recognition… it sent a pang of something almost unbearable through his chest.

"I did," All Might confirmed after a pause. "And I was wrong."

The words hung there, heavy, vulnerable, raw.

Izuku frowned slightly, pressing a hand against his chest as if something there ached. "I… I don't remember that," he admitted, looking almost frustrated with himself. "I don't know why, but hearing you say that still makes my heart feel heavy."

His fingers curled into the fabric of the hospital gown, and for a moment, he just sat there, breathing slowly, as if trying to chase a phantom sensation he couldn't name. "It's weird, isn't it?" he murmured. "Even though I can't remember… it still hurts."

All Might swallowed past the lump in his throat, forcing himself to remain composed. "That's why I'm telling you now. Because even if your memories are hazy… you deserve to hear it."

Izuku lifted his head, meeting All Might's gaze.

"You had every right to be a hero," All Might said firmly. "Quirk or no quirk. I see that now. And even though your powers are gone… or maybe just dormant, this isn't over yet." He took a step closer, his expression unreadable.

The weight of the room had changed. Inko Midoriya sat stiffly beside her son, her fingers clenching the edge of his hospital blanket, unwilling to let go. Izuku had been through hell. He had been taken, tortured, and used—his body a vessel for something he still didn't understand.

Then All Might turned to her, his eyes somber yet full of quiet determination. "Mrs. Midoriya," he said gently, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. "I need to speak with Izuku alone for a moment."

Inko stiffened, immediately on edge. "Why?" she asked, her voice uneven. "Haven't you all done enough? He's just a boy All Might, my boy… he needs rest, not more tests, not more investigations or expectations."

All Might nodded, fully understanding her pain, her fear. "I know," he admitted, stepping closer. "And believe me when I say I would never put him through more suffering. But this…" He hesitated, as though carefully choosing his words. "This is about his future. About whether he can continue at U.A. and become the hero he's always dreamed of being."

Inko's breath caught, her lips parting slightly as her eyes flickered to her son. Izuku had been through so much. More than any mother could have ever imagined or prepared for. She had spent nights worrying over his tears, over his crushed dreams, still clinging to the belief that one day, despite everything, he could become one of them. She had seen him shatter a hundred times, only to pick himself back up each and every time, even when the world told him he had no right to.

She knew what U.A. meant to her son. She knew how much he had wept after being told he was quirkless, how the ridicule and cruelty of the world had chipped away at him. And yet, through all of it, he had never stopped watching. Never stopped believing. He would sit in front of the television, wide-eyed, staring at the screen as All Might rescued yet another innocent. As he stood tall, defiant, unwavering.

Her son had wanted nothing more than to be that. To be someone who could save others, even if the world had refused to save him. "You…" she swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady, "you promised me you'd bring him back."

"I did." All Might's voice was steady. "And now I'm asking you to trust me just a little longer."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped at them hastily, sniffling, before nodding. "Fine," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "But... don't hurt him anymore. Please."

All Might's heart twisted at her words, at the raw plea of a mother who had already endured too much. "I won't," he promised, bowing his head slightly in gratitude.

With that, Inko stood, hesitating for a moment before brushing her fingers gently over Izuku's hair. Then, with a final glance at the two of them, she stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

The silence stretched between them for a moment. Izuku, still reeling from the events of the past few days, stared at his mentor warily. "All Might? What is this about?"

All Might took a slow breath before stepping forward, his expression unreadable. "Midoriya," he started, voice calm but firm, "what is a hero's purpose?"

Izuku blinked, confused by the sudden question. He sat up slightly, adjusting himself against the pillows. "A hero's purpose?"

All Might nodded. "Yes. What is a hero's true goal? Why do they exist?"

Izuku swallowed, furrowing his brows in thought. It was a simple question, yet somehow, it felt profound. Heavy. And yet, for him, the answer had always been clear.

"To protect everyone," Izuku answered, his voice steady despite the uncertainty clouding his mind. "No matter what. Even if it means jumping in first without thinking, even if they get hurt, it doesn't matter. A hero should always save people. Because that's what they're supposed to do. That's the kind of world I've always wanted."

All Might stared at him, and then, for the first time in what felt like ages, he smiled.

A real, genuine, proud smile.

"That's what I thought," he murmured. His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the tension he had been carrying for so long had finally lifted just a little. "You really are the right one, Midoriya."

Izuku tilted his head, confusion clear in his wide, green eyes. "What do you mean?"

All Might's expression softened, but there was something else there too. Something weighted, something more. His gaze dropped slightly, his posture shifting before suddenly—

He coughed violently, his entire body tensing as blood splattered into his palm.

"All Might!" Izuku lurched forward, but All Might raised a hand, stopping him. His breath was ragged, but he straightened himself, wiping the blood away with a practiced motion. "It's alright," he muttered, though his voice was weaker now. "Just… listen."

Izuku hesitated but nodded slowly, his chest tight with concern. All Might exhaled, taking another deep breath before locking eyes with him again.

"There's something you need to know." All Might straightened himself, his expression turning serious. "The world has called it superhuman strength. The tabloids have speculated, the public has assumed. Every time I was asked, I laughed, made a joke, dodged the question." His gaze locked onto Izuku's. "Because the Symbol of Peace… had to be a natural-born hero."

Izuku listened, his heart pounding. There was something in All Might's voice, something deeper.

"But the truth is… my quirk was passed onto me. It wasn't mine originally."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat. "What...?"

"I wasn't chosen by fate or born with this power," All Might said simply. "My quirk was given to me, just as it was given to my predecessor before me. The power that made me All Might, the power that shaped my legacy, is called One for All."

The realization dawned on Izuku like a slow sunrise, warmth creeping through the cold doubt in his chest. His hands trembled slightly. "Then…" He looked up at All Might, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you telling me this?" Izuku's mind raced, his body frozen in place. A quirk that could be passed down? That defied everything he had ever been told about quirks. It wasn't possible. It shouldn't be possible. And yet, All Might stood before him, telling him it was real.

All Might smiled softly. "Because I've already chosen." He took a step closer, his towering figure casting a long shadow over Izuku's bed. "Midoriya Izuku, I want you to inherit One For All."

The words left Izuku breathless. His vision swam, his thoughts tangling into knots. "Me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But… but I don't even have a quirk anymore. I lost it."

All Might chuckled, shaking his head. "That doesn't matter, it's also why I wanted to do this in the first place since you would be coming back to U.A. empty handed," he said. "What matters is your heart. Your ideals. Your unwavering determination to save people, no matter what." He knelt down slightly, bringing himself to Izuku's eye level. "From the moment I met you properly in U.A., I knew you were different. I knew you had the spirit of a hero and now more than ever I want you to show the world that you've changed."

Izuku's breath shuddered, his hands trembling. His entire life, he had dreamed of this. Of being a hero, of standing beside the greats, of saving people the way All Might did. And yet… doubt clawed at his chest. "But… what if I fail?" he whispered. "I still don't know what happened with the villains. What if they did something to me? I did irredeemable things..."

All Might placed a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "That is not your fault young man," he said simply. "You will have time to train. We'll build your body, your mind, and your spirit back up. We will prepare you, step by step, so that when the time comes, you will be ready to face those demons."

Izuku felt his entire body tremble. He could barely process what was being said to him. This wasn't just about a quirk. This was something more. Something deeper.

"This power… this responsibility… it's yours if you'll have it" All Might's voice softened, but his words carried the weight of something ancient, something bigger than either of them. "I want you to know that you can be a real hero."

The words hung in the air, heavy, final, unshakable.

Izuku barely had to think. He had spent his entire life believing he would never have a chance, never have the ability to be a hero the way he dreamed. He had spent years being told he wasn't enough, that he would never be enough. That everyone was sorry for him, there were finally the words he wanted to hear the most. And here All Might was standing before him, offering him everything he had ever wanted.

His voice trembled, but there was no hesitation.

"I'll do it."

A/N: Phew... This was something I had planned since I first came up with this story back in 2019! I knew the destination, not the journey. What does this mean for Izuku, is he good now? Too many unknowns, what did All For One do to him? Why let him go? I guess you'll have to find out next time :)

Also this site is glitching out a lot right now... there are 24 chapters as of making this one. But I see that it constantly goes back to only showing 16 Chapters, and everything in between. Not sure why, I guess it's an internal bug. Anyways, thanks for always reading and hopefully I can make your day just a little better with writing this story. No matter how bad your day is, or how the world is shifting right now, just know that there are people who care for you and want to see you do better. So don't give up and keep fighting, love you guys!