The playground buzzed with cheerful chatter as children ran and played. Izuku Midoriya sat quietly on the swing, his small hands gripping the chains. He watched as Hana, one of the few kids who treated him kindly, played tag with others.
"Hey, Izuku!" Hana waved at him, smiling brightly. "Come play with us!"
Izuku hesitated, but before he could answer, Daiki approached him.
"Still sitting around, huh, Izuku? I bet it's because you don't have a quirk!" Daiki jeered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "What a loser!"
"Daiki, stop it!" Hana yelled, stepping in to defend Izuku.
Izuku looked down, ashamed. His heart burned with anger and sadness. "Why does he always have to be so mean? I wish he'd just… disappear."
Before anyone could react, Daiki stumbled, clutching his chest. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide and empty.
"Daiki!" Hana screamed, rushing to his side. "What's wrong? Daiki!"
A crowd formed around them, parents and children murmuring in panic.
"He's… not breathing!" someone shouted.
Paramedics arrived, but despite their efforts, Daiki was declared dead on the spot. The cause of his death was unknown, and doctors were baffled. "No injuries, no illnesses… It's like he just… stopped living," they said.
Izuku watched everything unfold in confusion and fear. "What just happened?" he thought, his chest tight. "I didn't do anything… did I?"
Weeks later, the memory of Daiki's death still haunted Izuku. He kept wondering if he had somehow caused it, but the thought seemed impossible.
One evening, Izuku and his mom, Inko, were out shopping when chaos erupted. A villain with a twisted grin was holding hostages in the middle of the street, using his quirk to terrorize the crowd.
"Everyone stay back, or I'll start picking them off one by one!" the villain snarled.
Izuku stood in the crowd, trembling as he watched the hostages cry for help. Anger and fear churned inside him. "Why is he doing this? Someone stop him! Please… just make him die!"
The villain froze mid-sentence, then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The hostages were released, and the crowd cheered as heroes arrived to secure the scene.
But Izuku wasn't cheering. His heart raced, and his hands shook.
"Did… I do that?"
That night, Izuku couldn't sleep. Sitting at the kitchen table, he finally blurted out to his mother, "Mom, I think… something's wrong with me."
Inko looked up from her tea, concern filling her eyes. "What do you mean, Izuku?"
Izuku hesitated, then told her everything—about Daiki, the villain, and his terrifying realization.
Inko's face paled. "Izuku… we need to see a doctor."
At the doctor's office, Izuku underwent a series of tests. The doctor's expression grew darker with each result. Finally, he turned to Inko, his voice trembling.
"Mrs. Midoriya, your son's quirk is… unprecedented. It appears to allow him to cause instant death to anything he wills—living beings, objects, even abstract concepts, if he truly understands them."
Inko's hands flew to her mouth. "No… that can't be true. Izuku wouldn't hurt anyone!"
"It's not about intent," the doctor said grimly. "This power is dangerous beyond comprehension. I need to report this to the Hero Public Safety Commission."
Within hours, representatives from the HPSC arrived. Izuku was taken to their facility for further testing. The results confirmed what the doctor had feared—Izuku's quirk, Instant Death, was absolute and boundless.
In a private meeting, HPSC officials discussed the situation.
"This quirk… it's too dangerous," one said.
"He's just a child," another argued. "We can't treat him like a villain."
"But what if he loses control? What if he decides to use this power on a larger scale? The consequences would be catastrophic."
The leader of the discussion sighed heavily. "We'll monitor him closely and provide training. But if he shows signs of instability… we'll have no choice but to take action."
Inko, overhearing part of the conversation, hugged Izuku tightly. "No matter what, I'll protect you, Izuku," she whispered.
The Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) facility was quiet that night. Izuku Midoriya lay in a small, sterile room, his breathing steady as he slept. The day had been overwhelming, filled with tests and questions about his newly discovered quirk, Instant Death. He didn't fully understand the power he possessed, but he knew one thing: it terrified everyone around him.
Among those people was an HPSC agent named Kurose. He was a veteran in the commission, known for his stern demeanor and unwavering commitment to ensuring public safety. But tonight, fear clouded his judgment.
"This quirk… it's too much," Kurose muttered to himself in the dimly lit hall. "If we let this boy live, he could destroy everything—intentionally or not. It's a risk we can't afford to take."
Driven by his growing paranoia, Kurose made his decision. Quietly, he retrieved a syringe filled with a lethal substance from the medical wing. "It's for the greater good," he told himself, trying to justify what he was about to do.
The sound of the door creaking open was almost imperceptible. Kurose stepped into Izuku's room, his hand trembling as he approached the sleeping boy.
Izuku stirred slightly in his sleep, his face peaceful. Kurose hesitated for a moment, but then steeled his resolve. "I'm sorry, kid. This world can't handle you."
He raised the syringe, aiming for Izuku's neck.
But just as he was about to press the needle into Izuku's skin, Kurose gasped. His chest seized with an invisible force, his eyes widened in shock, and he collapsed to the floor—lifeless.
The syringe rolled out of his hand, its contents unused.
The next morning, chaos erupted in the facility. Kurose's body had been discovered, and the cause of his death was unknown. Panic and confusion spread among the staff.
"He was in perfect health yesterday!" one of the doctors exclaimed.
"It happened in the boy's room," another whispered, eyeing Izuku with a mix of fear and suspicion.
The HPSC leadership convened immediately. Izuku and his mother, Inko, were brought in as well, though the boy was still groggy from sleep.
"What's going on?" Inko asked, her voice trembling.
The HPSC leader looked grave. "Mrs. Midoriya, it seems… your son's quirk is even more complex than we initially thought."
"What do you mean?" Inko asked, clutching Izuku protectively.
One of the scientists spoke up, his voice uneasy. "It appears that Izuku's quirk has a defensive mechanism. If anyone intends to harm him, the quirk activates automatically, killing the threat before it can act."
Inko gasped. "You're saying… someone tried to hurt Izuku?"
The room fell silent. Finally, the HPSC leader spoke, his tone heavy. "One of our agents… attempted to kill your son last night. But before he could… your son's quirk killed him."
Izuku's eyes widened, tears welling up. "I didn't mean to… I didn't even know…"
"You didn't do anything, sweetheart," Inko said quickly, holding him close. "It's not your fault."
The HPSC leader sighed, rubbing his temples. "This changes everything. Not only is his quirk absolute, but it also operates autonomously. This makes him both incredibly powerful and incredibly dangerous."
Another agent voiced their concern. "If his quirk reacts without his control, how can we ensure the safety of those around him? What if it misinterprets harmless intent as a threat?"
"We can't take that risk," another added.
Inko stood up, her voice shaking but firm. "Izuku is my son. He's a child, not a monster. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, and I won't let you treat him like some kind of weapon!"
The room grew tense. The HPSC leader finally raised a hand, silencing the discussion. "We need more tests to understand the full extent of this quirk. For now, Izuku will remain under observation here."
Inko's eyes narrowed. "And if you decide he's too dangerous? What then?"
The leader didn't answer, but the heavy silence spoke volumes.
Weeks passed since the night Kurose attempted to end Izuku's life, only to be claimed by Izuku's quirk instead. The Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) realized that trying to contain Izuku through physical means was futile. His quirk, Instant Death, was not only absolute but also autonomously reactive to threats against him.
Now, the only way forward was clear: they had to train Izuku to control not just his quirk, but his very thoughts.
In a large room at the HPSC facility, Izuku sat nervously across from a psychologist, Dr. Haruka Shimizu. She was a calm, kind woman in her late thirties with a soothing voice and a reassuring demeanor.
"Hello, Izuku," she began gently. "Do you know why I'm here?"
Izuku hesitated, his small hands clutching the hem of his shirt. "Because… I hurt people without meaning to," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Dr. Haruka nodded. "That's part of it, yes. But more importantly, I'm here to help you learn how to keep that from happening again. You have a very powerful quirk, Izuku. It's scary, I know, but it doesn't mean you're a bad person."
Izuku's eyes filled with tears. "But… but I keep thinking bad things! What if I think something awful again? What if I hurt someone else?"
"That's what we're going to work on," Dr. Haruka said with a soft smile. "We're going to help you train your mind, so those thoughts don't have the power to hurt anyone anymore."
The training began with simple exercises. Dr. Haruka taught Izuku techniques to calm his mind, like deep breathing and visualization.
"Close your eyes, Izuku," she instructed. "Imagine a safe place—somewhere peaceful, where nothing bad can happen. Whenever you feel scared or angry, I want you to go to that place in your mind."
Izuku nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He pictured himself in a field of green hills, the sky bright and blue. There was no one else there, just the sound of the wind and the warmth of the sun.
"Good," Dr. Haruka said. "Now, whenever a bad thought comes, imagine it as a dark cloud in the sky. Watch it float by without holding onto it. Let it go."
As the weeks went on, Izuku's training grew more intensive. He was taught to recognize negative thoughts before they fully formed and redirect his mind to something harmless.
"Why do you think those bad thoughts happen, Izuku?" Dr. Haruka asked during one session.
Izuku hesitated. "I… I think it's because I get scared. Or angry. Like… like when Daiki bullied me, or when the villain was hurting people."
"That's very insightful," Dr. Haruka said. "It's normal to feel scared or angry in those moments. But your quirk makes those feelings very dangerous. That's why we need to focus on calming your emotions and replacing those thoughts with better ones."
Izuku's mental discipline was tested in controlled scenarios created by the HPSC. He was shown images of upsetting situations—a villain terrorizing civilians, someone yelling at him—and asked to focus on his breathing, his safe place, and letting go of the dark clouds in his mind.
At first, it was incredibly difficult. Izuku would start to panic, his thoughts spiraling toward wanting to end the threats he saw. But with guidance from Dr. Haruka and the support of his mother, he slowly improved.
"Izuku, you're doing so well," Inko said one evening as she hugged him tightly. "I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, Mom," Izuku said, though he still felt a weight in his chest.
One day, the HPSC leader visited Dr. Haruka to check on Izuku's progress.
"How is he doing?" the leader asked, their tone laced with both curiosity and apprehension.
Dr. Haruka smiled softly. "He's a remarkable child. His progress has been slow but steady. He's learning to control his thoughts, to redirect his emotions. But this will be a lifelong process. Izuku's quirk is tied directly to his mind—there's no way to turn it off completely."
The leader sighed. "So, the risk will always be there."
"Yes," Dr. Haruka admitted. "But if we nurture him, teach him discipline and kindness, he can learn to live with it—and maybe even use it to help people someday."
That night, as Izuku lay in bed, he thought about everything he'd learned. He didn't want to hurt anyone ever again. He wanted to be a hero, just like All Might—someone who saved people, not someone they feared.
"I'll get stronger," Izuku whispered to himself. "Not just my quirk, but my heart and my mind. I'll make sure no one gets hurt because of me again."
It was late in the evening, and Izuku sat on the edge of his bed in the HPSC facility, staring at the moon through the window. The training sessions with Dr. Haruka had been intense, but his mind was restless tonight.
He heard a soft knock at the door before it opened. His mother, Inko, stepped inside, carrying a cup of tea. She placed it on the small table next to him and sat down.
"Can't sleep, sweetheart?" she asked gently.
Izuku shook his head. "Mom… can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Izuku," Inko said, brushing his hair back with a warm smile.
Izuku hesitated, his small hands clutching the blanket. "Do you think… someone like me can be a hero?"
Inko's smile faltered, but only for a moment. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "Why do you ask that, Izuku?"
"Because…" Izuku looked down, tears welling up in his eyes. "Heroes are supposed to save people, right? But my quirk… it only hurts people. Even if I don't want it to, it can kill without me meaning to. How can I be a hero if I'm so dangerous?"
Inko pulled Izuku into a hug, her heart breaking at his words. "Oh, Izuku… you're not dangerous. You're my sweet, kind boy. You've never wanted to hurt anyone, and that's what matters."
"But…" Izuku sniffled, his voice trembling. "Everyone's scared of me. Even the people here—they look at me like I'm a monster."
"That's because they don't know you like I do," Inko said firmly. She pulled back to look into his tearful eyes. "Being a hero isn't just about having a powerful quirk. It's about your heart, your determination to help others. And you, Izuku, have one of the kindest hearts I've ever seen."
Izuku blinked, his tears slowing. "But my quirk—"
"Your quirk doesn't define who you are," Inko interrupted, her voice steady. "It's a part of you, yes, but it's your choices that matter. And if you choose to use your quirk to protect people, to save them, then I believe you can be a hero."
The next day, during his session with Dr. Haruka, Izuku brought up the question again.
"Dr. Haruka, do you think I can ever be a hero?"
Dr. Haruka paused, then smiled softly. "What do you think, Izuku?"
"I… I want to be one," Izuku admitted. "I want to help people. But I don't know if I can, with a quirk like mine."
Dr. Haruka leaned forward. "Izuku, being a hero isn't about having a flashy or powerful quirk. It's about your intentions and your actions. Yes, your quirk is dangerous, but you're working hard to control it. That shows incredible strength and courage."
Izuku looked up at her, hope flickering in his eyes. "Really?"
"Absolutely," Dr. Haruka said. "The fact that you're even asking this question proves that you care deeply about others. And that's what heroes do—they care, they try, and they never give up."
Later that evening, Izuku sat alone, staring at the notebook he'd been using to document his training. He flipped to a blank page and wrote at the top in bold letters:
"I CAN BE A HERO."
Izuku stared at Dr. Haruka with wide, teary eyes. Her words echoed in his mind, filling the silence of the room.
"You mean… I don't have to hurt people?" Izuku asked hesitantly.
Dr. Haruka nodded with a kind smile. "Exactly. Your quirk isn't just about ending lives, Izuku. It's about ending anything you truly understand and focus on. That includes quirks themselves."
Izuku tilted his head, unsure. "But how would that help?"
"Well," Dr. Haruka began, leaning forward, "imagine a villain causing destruction with their quirk. Instead of hurting the person, you could focus on their quirk—the source of their danger—and 'end' it. If you do it just right, you might even be able to stop their quirk temporarily, without any permanent damage."
Izuku's eyes sparkled with hope for the first time in weeks. "You mean… I could save people without hurting anyone?"
"That's right," Dr. Haruka said. "But it's not something you can do right away. You'll need to study quirks carefully, understand how they work, and practice focusing your thoughts. It's going to take a lot of effort."
Izuku clenched his fists, determination rising in his chest. "I'll do it! I'll learn everything I can about quirks! That way, I can use my quirk to help people!"
That night, Izuku sat on his bed with a notebook open in his lap. He flipped to a blank page and wrote at the top:
"Quirk Analysis and Control"
Beneath it, he began listing everything he knew about quirks from books and TV shows.
"Some quirks are physical… like super strength or transformations," Izuku murmured, scribbling notes furiously. "Others are energy-based, like fire or ice. And some quirks are mental or sensory… I'll need to figure out how each one works."
The door opened quietly, and Inko peeked in. "Izuku? Are you still awake?"
"Mom!" Izuku beamed, holding up his notebook. "Dr. Haruka said I could learn to use my quirk to help people without hurting them. I just need to understand quirks better!"
Inko walked over and looked at the messy but enthusiastic notes. Her heart swelled with pride. "That's wonderful, Izuku. But don't forget to rest, okay? You have plenty of time to learn."
"I know, Mom," Izuku said, grinning. "But if I start now, maybe I can figure it out faster!"
The next day, Izuku's training shifted focus. The HPSC began exposing him to information about different quirks, showing him videos and diagrams to help him understand their mechanics.
One day, Izuku watched a video of a hero using a fire quirk to stop a villain. "So, the fire comes from his palms," Izuku noted, scribbling in his notebook. "If I focused on the part of his quirk that generates the fire… I might be able to stop it."
Dr. Haruka nodded. "That's the idea. But remember, Izuku, it's all about understanding. If you don't fully grasp how a quirk works, your power might not be precise. That's why studying is so important."
Izuku's face lit up with determination. "Then I'll study harder than anyone!"
Over the following months, Izuku's obsession with quirks grew. Whenever he met someone with a quirk, he would ask endless questions about how it worked, how it felt, and how they used it.
At first, people were hesitant, unsure of why he was so curious. But as Izuku's genuine fascination shone through, they often relented, sharing their experiences. Izuku meticulously documented everything in his notebook.
One day, Dr. Haruka asked him, "Why are you so determined to learn about every quirk you can, Izuku?"
Izuku looked up from his notebook, his eyes blazing with resolve. "Because every quirk I understand is one more tool I can use to save people. If I can stop someone's quirk without hurting them, I'll be one step closer to being a hero."
Dr. Haruka smiled. "You've come so far, Izuku. Just remember, being a hero isn't just about knowledge—it's also about compassion. And you have plenty of both."
Months had passed since Izuku began his intense quirk training and research. His notebooks were filled with notes about quirks, diagrams of abilities, and strategies to neutralize them without causing harm. But even with all his progress, Izuku felt there was something missing.
He sat in his room at the HPSC facility, poring over a medical textbook one of the staff had lent him. On the page was a detailed diagram of the human nervous system.
"If I understand how the body works," Izuku murmured to himself, "maybe I can figure out how to make someone just… fall asleep or pass out instead of hurting them."
The idea excited him. The thought of using his quirk to stop dangerous people without causing permanent harm—or even taking their quirks away—was exactly what he wanted.
The next day, during his session with Dr. Haruka, Izuku shared his idea.
"Dr. Haruka," he began, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, "what if I learn more about biology? Like, how the body works? That way, I can use my quirk to affect specific parts of the body, like making someone fall asleep instead of hurting them."
Dr. Haruka looked at him thoughtfully. "That's an ambitious idea, Izuku. But it's also a brilliant one. The more you understand about the human body, the more control you'll have over how your quirk works."
"So… I can learn, right? Can I borrow more books? Maybe even take some classes?" Izuku's eyes sparkled with hope.
Dr. Haruka smiled. "I think that's a wonderful idea. I'll talk to the HPSC about arranging some biology lessons for you."
Izuku's new studies began with the basics: anatomy, physiology, and the nervous system. He learned how the brain controlled the body, how nerves carried signals, and how different parts of the body could be influenced.
One lesson stood out to him in particular. His instructor, a doctor named Dr. Tamaki, was explaining how the vagus nerve worked.
"The vagus nerve is crucial," Dr. Tamaki said, pointing to a diagram. "It controls things like your heart rate and digestion. If you apply the right pressure or stimulus, you can make someone faint without causing any lasting harm."
Izuku's eyes lit up. "So, if I understand how the vagus nerve works, I could use my quirk to stop someone without hurting them at all?"
Dr. Tamaki nodded. "In theory, yes. But you'd need a deep understanding of how the body works to target something so specific with your quirk."
"I'll learn," Izuku said with determination. "I'll learn everything I can."
Later that day, Dr. Haruka found Izuku sitting in his room, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
"Today was amazing, Izuku," she said, sitting down next to him. "You've come so far."
Izuku looked up, his cheeks flushing with pride. "I couldn't have done it without everything you and the doctors taught me. But… I still have so much more to learn. I want to know everything about quirks and the human body. That way, I can always choose the safest way to stop someone."
Dr. Haruka smiled. "You're going to be an incredible hero someday, Izuku. Not just because of your quirk, but because of how much you care about doing the right thing."
Izuku sat in his room at the HPSC facility, surrounded by books on biology and physiology. His notebooks were stacked high with diagrams of the nervous system, the brain's pathways, and detailed studies of how quirks might interact with the human body.
But today was different. Today, Izuku was going to test something new—a safer way to control his quirk without endangering anyone. He had been practicing controlling his quirk on non-living things, but now, with all his research, he felt ready for a new challenge.
He looked at the small, clear cage in front of him, where a small white lab mouse was calmly exploring its new environment. It had been carefully bred for research purposes, and no one would be hurt.
Izuku took a deep breath. "I can do this," he whispered to himself. He had spent hours reading about the body's nervous system, and now, he needed to test if he could apply his knowledge in a way that wouldn't cause harm.
He opened the notebook he had filled with notes, flipping through pages until he found a diagram he had drawn of the vagus nerve and how it could be stimulated to cause someone to lose consciousness. His fingers hovered over the page as he thought about the process. He wasn't going to kill or harm. He only wanted to make the mouse pass out, to prove to himself that he could control his quirk in a way that didn't involve death.
Izuku focused on the mouse inside the cage, clearing his mind of any distracting thoughts. His quirk, the ability to make anything he truly thought of die, had always been both a terrifying and powerful force. But now, it could also be a tool for understanding and control.
The mouse twitched as it scurried around, unaware of the focused energy emanating from Izuku. Izuku focused on the part of its nervous system that he had learned about—the pathways that controlled unconsciousness. He thought about his studies on the vagus nerve and how its stimulation could induce fainting in humans. He tried to apply that same principle to the mouse.
"I can do this without hurting you," Izuku whispered, his voice barely a breath.
His mind sharpened, and his quirk activated. He visualized the vagus nerve in the mouse, imagining how it could be stimulated without causing any lasting harm. The mouse's movements slowed, and after a few seconds, it collapsed onto its side, still breathing but unconscious.
Izuku immediately released the mental pressure he had been applying. He approached the cage cautiously, checking to make sure the mouse was alive. Its small chest rose and fell with steady breaths. He exhaled in relief.
"I did it," he whispered, smiling to himself. "I controlled it."
The next day, Izuku met with Dr. Haruka, excited to share his results.
"Dr. Haruka!" Izuku said, almost breathless. "I tested it—on a mouse. I focused on the vagus nerve, and I made it faint. It's still alive, and I didn't hurt it!"
Dr. Haruka's eyes widened with surprise. She had expected Izuku to be cautious, but this was a significant breakthrough.
"You did?" she asked, her voice a mixture of admiration and concern. "Izuku, that's impressive. But you must be careful. Testing things like this, even on animals, requires a great deal of responsibility. You need to be sure you're not putting them at risk."
"I was careful," Izuku assured her, his eyes filled with determination. "I only made it faint. I knew I could control it."
Dr. Haruka nodded. "I trust you, Izuku. But remember, the key is to always remain in control. You don't want your quirk to react impulsively or without clear intent. What you did was controlled, but it could have gone wrong if you lost focus."
Izuku nodded, fully aware of the danger his quirk posed. "I understand, Dr. Haruka. I'll keep practicing, and I'll keep being careful."
Izuku's training intensified over the following months. He continued his studies on the human body, learning more about how quirks affected physical systems. His work with small animals, particularly mice, continued, and he became more skilled at applying his quirk in precise ways.
He learned how to make an animal lose consciousness without causing any lasting damage, and he expanded his focus to understand other bodily systems. But even as he grew more proficient, he remained cautious, aware that a single slip-up could result in harm.
One evening, after successfully making a mouse fall unconscious, Izuku reflected on his progress. He was no longer just a boy with a dangerous quirk—he was learning to be a hero, to understand his power and use it for good.
"I'll keep going," Izuku whispered to himself, staring at his notebook. "One step at a time."
And so, Izuku's journey continued. He trained harder, studied more, and, most importantly, practiced controlling his quirk with care. With each small success, his dream of becoming a hero who could help others without causing harm felt more and more possible. The road ahead was long, but Izuku had already taken the first step—toward control, toward safety, and toward becoming the hero he had always wanted to be.
The morning sun filtered through the curtains of a small, cozy apartment in Musutafu. Izuku Midoriya stood by the door, adjusting his tie nervously as he glanced at his mother, Inko.
"Are you sure everything's going to be okay, Mom?" Izuku asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.
Inko smiled gently, her hands on his shoulders. "You've worked so hard to get here, Izuku. You've learned to control your quirk, and I'm so proud of you. Just be yourself, and everything will be fine."
Izuku nodded, clutching his backpack tightly. It was his first day at Aldera Junior High, and while he was excited to start fresh, he couldn't ignore the gnawing worry that came with being back in the outside world.
Walking through the gates of Aldera, Izuku could feel the stares almost immediately. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd as students noticed him.
"Is that him?" a girl murmured.
"The one who lived at HPSC?"
"Yeah, they say he can kill you just by thinking about it."
Izuku kept his head down, trying to ignore the rumors. He had spent years proving to the HPSC and himself that he could control his quirk, and now he just wanted a normal life. But the fear in their voices reminded him that normal might be out of reach.
The classroom was no different. As Izuku entered, the other students froze, their conversations halting mid-sentence. Desks scraped noisily as they subtly shifted away from him.
Izuku found an empty seat in the back corner and sat quietly, pretending not to notice the wide berth everyone gave him.
"Hey," a boy whispered to his friend, loud enough for Izuku to hear. "That's the kid who can kill you with a thought."
"No way," the friend replied. "Why is someone like him even allowed here?"
Izuku clenched his fists under the desk, forcing himself to stay calm. He had learned to control his emotions because even a stray thought could have devastating consequences. But the isolation still stung.
Among the students, one stood out: Katsuki Bakugo. He had heard the rumors about Izuku and, like the others, felt a knot of fear in his stomach. But Bakugo wasn't the type to admit fear, especially not toward someone he used to know.
"Deku," he muttered under his breath, watching Izuku from across the room. "He's not so scary."
Even so, Bakugo kept his distance. He might not have admitted it to anyone, but the thought of Izuku's quirk—being able to end someone's life with a mere thought—was enough to keep him wary.
Occasionally, Bakugo would shoot a snide remark Izuku's way, more out of habit than malice. But the sharpness in his tone lacked its usual conviction.
Lunchtime was a solitary affair. Izuku sat under a tree in the schoolyard, eating his bento alone. The other students kept their distance, though their whispers followed him everywhere he went.
"Why is he even here?"
"What if he gets mad and decides to use his quirk?"
Izuku sighed, taking a bite of his food and staring at the ground. He had hoped that being back in the world outside the HPSC would feel liberating, but it felt just as lonely.
At home, the atmosphere was different.
"How was your first day?" Inko asked as she placed a warm bowl of miso soup on the table.
Izuku hesitated before responding, "It was... okay."
Inko frowned, sitting across from him. "Izuku, you don't have to hide how you feel. You know you can talk to me."
He smiled weakly. "I just… I think it's going to take a while for everyone to get used to me. They're scared, Mom. And I don't blame them."
Inko reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "They'll see how amazing you are, Izuku. Just give them time."
The classroom buzzed with excitement as the homeroom teacher leaned against the podium, smirking at his students.
"All right, class," he announced, waving a stack of papers. "It's that time of year—your career paths! I see a lot of you wrote that you want to become heroes."
A cheer rippled through the room. Students proudly talked about their ambitions, exchanging playful banter about which agencies they'd work for.
"And of course," the teacher continued, his grin widening, "we have two aspiring U.A. High applicants in this class. Katsuki Bakugo—"
Bakugo leaned back in his chair, his trademark smirk plastered on his face. "Damn right I'm getting in. I'll be the best hero there is."
His classmates murmured in agreement, showering him with admiration.
"—and Izuku Midoriya."
The room fell silent. Heads turned toward the green-haired boy sitting at the back. Whispers began to spread like wildfire.
"What? Him?"
"Isn't he the kid who can kill with just a thought?"
"How can someone like that be a hero?"
"Midoriya wants to go to U.A.? That's insane."
"Imagine someone with his quirk trying to save people. He'd probably kill them instead!"
Izuku kept his gaze forward, his face calm but his hands clenched tightly under his desk. He expected this reaction, but it didn't make it any easier.
Izuku ignored the comments, focusing on his notebook during lunch. He had filled it with detailed notes on quirks he had studied, strategies for how he could use his power to incapacitate rather than harm, and theories on how he could become the kind of hero he dreamed of being.
After class, Bakugo slammed his hands on Izuku's desk, glaring down at him.
"Oi, Deku," he hissed, his voice low enough that the other students couldn't hear. "You're applying to U.A. too?"
Izuku looked up, meeting Bakugo's gaze evenly. "Yeah. I am."
Bakugo's jaw tightened. "How the hell do you think someone like you can be a hero? With your quirk, you're more dangerous than half the villains out there!"
Izuku flinched slightly but didn't break eye contact. "Because I've spent years learning to control it. I know how to use it responsibly, Kacchan. I can save people."
Bakugo opened his mouth to retort but stopped. His mind flashed back to the rumors, the whispered fears about Izuku's quirk. A part of him wanted to push harder, to break Izuku's resolve. But deep down, he felt a chill—a fear he would never admit out loud.
"Tch." Bakugo turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Whatever. Don't get in my way."