Laughter filled the Blackwood home, the warm sound of a family at peace. The golden glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the large living room windows, casting long shadows over the plush carpet where six-year-old Leo sat, giggling as his little sister, Ellie, clumsily tried to stack her blocks into a tower.

"You're gonna make it fall," he warned playfully, watching as her tiny fingers carefully placed another block on top.

"Nuh-uh!" Ellie stuck out her tongue in determination. Her bright blue eyes shone with excitement, wisps of her curly brown hair bouncing as she wiggled with happiness.

Their mother chuckled from the couch, resting a gentle hand on her swollen belly. "Be nice to your sister, Leo."

"I am nice," he insisted, grinning up at her.

Their father ruffled his hair as he walked past, smelling of coffee and the faintest trace of cologne. "I don't know about that, buddy. I seem to recall a certain someone hiding the TV remote last night."

Leo burst into laughter, Ellie's high-pitched giggles joining his. It was a perfect moment. A safe moment.

Then, the front door exploded.

The world shifted from golden warmth to shattering chaos.

The force of the blast sent Leo tumbling backward, his ears ringing with an unbearable high-pitched whine. Ellie's shriek cut through the noise, sharp and terrified. A cloud of dust and smoke swallowed the room, swallowing them all.

"M-Mom?" His voice wavered, barely a whisper.

A figure stepped through the gaping hole where the door used to be. A tall man, draped in black, his towering form wreathed in unnatural shadows. A massive metal mask covered his face, its sharp edges gleaming ominously under the flickering light. His suit remained eerily pristine despite the destruction he had caused.

Leo felt his breath hitch, his tiny hands shaking as he scrambled backward. Something about him felt wrong.

"Run." His mother's voice, hoarse and desperate, rang in his ears. "Take Ellie and run, baby."

But his body wouldn't move.

The man lifted a single gloved hand. A low, mechanical breath echoed through his mask.

And then—chaos.

A wave of pure, concussive force ripped through the house. The walls buckled, furniture splintered, glass shattered. Leo could do nothing but clutch Ellie close as they were thrown across the room. His back slammed against something hard. Pain exploded in his ribs.

The next few seconds passed in a blur—his father rushing forward, his mother screaming, but the masked man barely acknowledged them. With a flick of his wrist, a force slammed his father into the far wall, leaving a sickening crack in its wake.

Leo's chest clenched.

No, no, no, no, no!

"Dad!" He tried to move, but a strong grip pulled him back. His mother's arms were around him, pushing Ellie into his chest as she shielded them with her own body.

A metallic voice filled the air, calm, unbothered by the destruction around him.

"There was potential here," the man mused, his crimson eyes glowing behind the mask. "But not enough."

Then he reached out.

A sharp, unnatural twist of energy rippled through the room. His mother screamed—a raw, heart-wrenching sound—as she was lifted off the ground, her body convulsing violently before being tossed aside like a broken doll.

Leo froze. The world shattered around him.

Mom…?

She wasn't moving.

Why wasn't she moving?

A high-pitched ringing filled his head, drowning out Ellie's cries.

He turned, shaking his mother's shoulder. Her warm, gentle hands that had hugged him to sleep every night now lay limp and motionless against the cold wooden floor.

His fingers curled into her dress. "Mom? Mom, wake up! Please—"

Something wet touched his hand. He looked down.

Blood.

Thick, deep red. Spreading fast. Too fast.

A scream—Ellie.

He barely had time to turn before he saw the masked man's outstretched hand. A sharp, invisible force ripped through the air, and then—

Ellie was gone.

One second, she was there, her tiny arms wrapped around him in fear. The next—a splatter of crimson painted the wall.

Leo couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

His baby sister. His best friend. Gone.

Something broke inside him. A chasm of grief and rage split open in his chest, something so primal, so unbearable that he thought he might die from the sheer weight of it.

The man turned away, as if none of it mattered.

Like they were nothing.

Then—a new explosion.

The front of the house caved in as a golden blur crashed through the debris, slamming into the masked man with earth-shaking force.

A booming voice, one that shook the very air itself:

"I AM HERE!"

Leo barely registered the fight that followed. The world blurred—shock drowning his senses. The ground shook. Walls crumbled. The masked man and All Might clashed like gods, their battle a terrifying dance of destruction.

But Leo didn't care.

His trembling hands reached out, trying to grab Ellie—to pull her back, to fix this, to wake up from this nightmare.

But she wouldn't wake up.

His mother wouldn't wake up.

His father lay lifeless across the room.

The overwhelming scent of blood and smoke burned his throat, searing this moment into his soul.

A sob tore from his chest—small, broken, helpless.

Then a shadow loomed over him. Strong arms lifted him up. A firm, steady heartbeat thumped against his ear.

All Might.

The Symbol of Peace held him tight, shielding his tiny body from the chaos, but nothing could shield him from the unbearable truth.

Leo screamed.

A sound of pure, raw grief and rage.

And then—darkness


The room was dark, except for the faint glow of the city lights bleeding through the curtains. The air was heavy—stagnant, thick with the weight of something unseen.

A sharp, ragged breath shattered the silence.

Leo jerked upright, his body drenched in sweat. His fingers dug into the sheets, his chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven gasps. The echoes of his nightmare still clung to him, flashing behind his eyes like a cruel reel of memories.

Ellie's laughter.

Her screams.

The scent of blood.

The masked man.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself back into reality. His arms trembled as he ran a shaky hand through his sweat-dampened hair. The cold night air kissed his skin, but it did nothing to cool the fire simmering in his chest—the rage that never truly faded.

Four years.

Four years since that day. Since his world was ripped apart.

And yet, it was always there. The ghost of it.

He let out a slow, shuddering breath, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. It's fine. It was just another nightmare.

Then—the sound of hurried footsteps outside his door.

Leo barely had time to shake the lingering fear from his limbs before the door swung open.

A tall, lanky figure rushed inside, eyes scanning the room with sharp, urgent concern. Toshinori Yagi—his guardian, his father figure, and the man the world knew as All Might—stood in his usual loose-fitting sleepwear, his wild blond hair sticking out in messy tufts.

"Leo?" His voice was soft, but firm, laced with that same quiet worry it always held when nights like this happened.

Leo let out a breath and scrubbed at his face. "I'm fine." His voice was hoarse. "Just… just another nightmare."

Toshinori's expression didn't change. He knew better.

Carefully, he stepped forward and sat down at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. In the dim lighting, his features looked softer, older, the usual unshakable hero reduced to a man who carried too much on his shoulders.

Leo hated when he saw him like this.

There was a beat of silence. Then—

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Leo hesitated. He wanted to say no, to brush it off like always. But the nightmare had been worse this time—more vivid, more real—and the words sat heavy on his tongue, unspoken and aching.

He shook his head. "It was the same as always." A pause. "I saw them again."

Toshinori's eyes softened.

Leo hated how weak his voice sounded. Hated the way his hands were still trembling. He clenched his fists, gripping the sheets like an anchor. "It's been four years," he muttered bitterly. "I shouldn't still be having these nightmares."

Toshinori sighed, resting a hand on his knee. "Time doesn't erase pain, my boy," he said gently. "It just teaches us how to carry it."

Leo's throat tightened. He hated crying. He refused to do it anymore. Crying never fixed anything.

But that weight in his chest—the rage, the grief, the helplessness—was still there, sitting heavy on his ribs.

He finally whispered, "I should've done something."

Toshinori stilled.

"I just stood there," Leo's voice wavered. "I couldn't do anything. If I had—"

A warm, steady hand settled on top of his clenched fist, grounding him.

"You were six, Leo." Toshinori's voice was gentle, yet unyielding. "There was nothing you could've done."

"But I should've—"

"No." The firmness in his voice left no room for argument. "What happened that day wasn't your fault. It was his."

Leo's jaw tightened. He knew that. In his head, he knew. But in his heart? It still felt like he had failed.

Toshinori sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Listen to me," he said. "I know the weight of regret. I've carried it too." His fingers hovered briefly over his stomach—over the wound All For One had left him with. "But if you live in the past, you'll never see the future ahead of you."

Leo looked down, his grip loosening. "A future, huh…?"

There was another long silence. Then, finally, he muttered, "I gave up, y'know."

Toshinori raised a brow.

"On being a hero." Leo looked away. "It's stupid. I don't even have a Quirk. And even if I did, what kind of hero lets his family die right in front of him?"

Toshinori's expression turned unreadable. Then, with a deep breath, he said, "The kind who learns from it."

Leo blinked.

Toshinori leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think you're the only one who's lost people?" he asked, his voice calm but weighted. "Every hero you've ever admired—every single one—has lost someone. And yes, it hurts. It will always hurt." His gaze met Leo's, sharp yet kind. "But you can either let that pain bury you, or you can rise from it."

Leo swallowed, his hands tightening into the fabric of his sweatpants.

Toshinori stood, his long shadow cast over the room as he smiled—not his usual boisterous, larger-than-life smile, but something smaller. Something real.

"There's still a future for you, Leo. Even if you don't see it yet."

Leo stared at him for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his golden eyes.

He didn't know if he believed in that future.

But for tonight, at least, he could believe in Toshinori.

"…Yeah," he mumbled finally. "Maybe."

Toshinori chuckled softly, ruffling his hair before heading for the door. "Try to get some sleep, my boy. I'll be right down the hall if you need me."

Leo didn't respond, but as the door closed behind him, he let out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling.

Sleep wouldn't come easy. It never did.

But maybe… just maybe…

He wasn't as alone as he thought.


The sun hung high in the sky, casting sharp shadows over the schoolyard. It should have been a good day. The last day of fourth grade. One more step forward before summer break. One more step toward leaving this place behind.

But Leo barely felt it.

He sat alone at the farthest lunch table, picking at his food with little interest. His stomach churned—not from hunger, but from exhaustion. His body still carried the weight of last night's nightmare, dragging behind him like an anchor.

It was always worse the morning after. The lingering ghosts of the past.

He could still hear Ellie's voice. Still see the blood.

Leo clenched his fist around his plastic fork, willing the memories away. Not now. Not here.

The schoolyard buzzed with chatter, kids laughing, running around, enjoying their last few hours of fourth grade. Leo should have been like them. He should have been excited, counting down the hours until freedom.

But then—he heard them.

Loud. Obnoxious. Cruel.

A voice, all too familiar, rang through the yard.

"Well, well, well—if it isn't our favorite little punching bag."

Leo stiffened.

A group of boys strutted toward him, five in total, their uniforms slightly disheveled, their smirks wide with the kind of confidence that came from knowing they could do whatever they wanted. And get away with it.

At the center of them stood Jace Montgomery, the self-proclaimed king of the schoolyard. Blond hair slicked back, blue sparks of electricity dancing between his fingers, his Quirk already flaring just from the sheer thrill of tormenting others.

His lackeys weren't much better. One kid could generate bursts of wind strong enough to send someone flying, another had claws sharp enough to cut skin. One of them even had a Quirk that could harden his arms into steel. And then there was Leo.

Quirkless. Weak. Prey.

Leo exhaled slowly. He could already tell where this was going. He kept his gaze locked on his tray, willing himself to ignore them.

But Jace wasn't going to let him.

"C'mon, Leo. Not even a hello?" Jace mocked, leaning over the table. He plucked a fry from Leo's tray and popped it into his mouth. "You're acting real stuck-up today."

Leo rolled his eyes. "Screw off, Jace."

The group snickered, entertained by the small act of defiance.

"Ooh," one of them mocked. "Big words for a little nobody."

Jace grinned. "That's cute, Leo. But you know how this works. You talk back, you pay for it."

Leo set his jaw. His patience was already thin from the nightmare, from everything. He was tired. So damn tired of this same routine.

"You guys really don't have anything better to do?" he muttered. "Last day of school and you're still pulling this same pathetic act?"

Jace's smirk twitched.

"Man, listen to him," one of the boys laughed. "It's like he actually thinks he's worth something."

Leo gritted his teeth.

Jace leaned closer, his electric sparks crackling as he grabbed Leo's tray and dumped it onto his lap.

"Oops," Jace said, mockingly. "Looks like you lost your lunch, Blackwood."

The cold food seeped into Leo's pants, but he barely noticed. His fists clenched tightly under the table.

Don't.

Don't give them what they want.

He sucked in a breath, forcing his body to stay still. It wasn't worth it. Just a few more hours, then he'd never have to see these bastards again.

But then—

Jace chuckled, his grin turning sharper.

"Y'know," he mused, pacing in front of Leo's table. "I was thinking about something earlier. Something real sad."

Leo didn't respond. He didn't have to. The moment Jace said "sad," he knew exactly where this was going.

"See, I was thinking about your family," Jace continued. "Or, well… the fact that you don't have one."

Leo's body locked up.

He felt the blood drain from his face. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

Jace's grin widened. He saw it. He saw the shift. He knew he hit the nerve he wanted.

"I mean, damn, man." Jace clicked his tongue. "Parents, siblings, even a couple of unborn brats? You really lost everything, huh?"

Leo's breath hitched. A cold, empty feeling flooded his chest.

"Bet they were begging for their lives, huh?" Jace taunted, laughing. "Screaming your name, and you just stood there like a useless—"

Leo moved before he even realized it.

His fist connected with Jace's jaw—hard.

The crack of impact silenced everything around them.

Jace stumbled back, his expression flickering from smug amusement to something colder.

Then—he grinned.

"Boys?" he said, wiping the blood from his lip. "Make him regret that."

And just like that, they swarmed him.

Leo fought back. He always did. But he was outnumbered.

Wind lashed against his body, knocking the air from his lungs. A hardened fist slammed into his stomach, making him double over. Claws raked across his arm.

It was brutal. It was unfair.

It was always like this.

Leo's world blurred in pain and frustration. Everything hurt. He could taste blood on his tongue. He heard Jace laughing over him, his voice distant—mocking.

"This is what happens when you act like you're worth something, Blackwood," Jace sneered. "You'll never be anything. You'll never be a hero. Hell, I bet your family died thinking you were a disappointment."

Then—

Something inside Leo snapped.

A fire erupted in his veins. A deep, primal force, surging through him like a storm finally breaking free.

A searing pain burned up his arms, branding itself into his skin.

Then—his vision went red.

The next thing he knew—he was moving.

Fast.

Brutal.

He lunged, grabbing the nearest boy and slamming him into the pavement so hard he felt something crack beneath his grip. A strangled scream filled the air.

Someone else charged at him—Leo tore through them like a beast unleashed. Claws. Teeth. Strength beyond anything he had ever known.

Jace screamed as Leo grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing.

Leo didn't even feel human anymore. He felt like something else entirely.

Something unstoppable.

His breathing was heavy. Animalistic.

Jace trembled in his grasp, his confident smirk replaced with sheer terror.

"P-Please," Jace whimpered. "S-Stop—"

Leo raised his fist—ready to break him.

Then—

The fire inside him suddenly flickered.

His rage came crashing down, like a dam finally bursting.

His vision cleared.

Jace was a shaking, whimpering mess beneath his fist.

Leo stared, panting hard. His hands felt different—heavier.

Then—the pain hit.

A burning, searing agony ripped up his arms, crawling up his flesh like fire branding itself onto his skin.

Leo gasped, clutching his forearms—his vision blurring in pain.

And for the first time… he saw them.

The black claw marks.

The glowing red veins.

Leo's breaths came ragged and heavy. His arms still burned like fire was searing into his flesh, but he couldn't focus on that.

Not yet.

His golden gaze darted around the schoolyard.

The bullies—the same kids who had tormented him for years—were sprawled across the ground.

One was knocked out cold, his arm bent at an unnatural angle. Another lay on his side, groaning in pain, clutching his ribs. The kid with the wind Quirk coughed violently, as if the air had been knocked straight out of his lungs.

And then there was Jace.

The self-proclaimed king of the schoolyard was now a quivering mess, still pinned beneath Leo's grip. His once-cocky smirk was gone, his blue eyes wide with something that had never been there before—fear.

Leo had never seen him look like that. Never.

Jace's lip trembled as he finally managed to choke out a single, broken word:

"M-Monster."

Leo froze.

The word slammed into him like a punch to the gut.

Monster.

The glow in his arms flickered, his fists loosening. Was that what he was now?

Then—

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"

A sharp, authoritative voice cut through the chaos.

Leo barely had time to react before a teacher came rushing onto the scene.

Mrs. Hargrove—one of the school's senior staff—stared in horror at the scene before her. Her eyes darted between the bruised, beaten kids on the ground, then to Leo—still straddling Jace, fists clenched, tattoos burning against his skin.

Leo knew exactly how this looked.

Shit.

The ringing in his ears grew louder. His heartbeat thundered in his chest as the full weight of what had just happened came crashing down.

Mrs. Hargrove snapped out of her shock and stormed toward them. "Leo Blackwood!" she barked, her tone sharp and furious. "Get OFF of him—NOW!"

Leo didn't fight it. He didn't even argue. He just… let go.

Jace scrambled backward the moment he was free, practically crawling away as if Leo would pounce on him again. His lackeys—those still conscious—flinched at his movement.

Leo swallowed hard.

For the first time in his life, they were afraid of him.

But it didn't feel good.

It felt sick. Wrong.

Mrs. Hargrove's voice was distant now, her words blurred beneath the ringing in his ears. He barely registered the teachers dragging him away as they called for the principal.

But none of it mattered.

Because Jace's voice still echoed in his head.

Monster.

The Principal's Office

The atmosphere was tense.

Leo sat in a stiff chair, his arms wrapped around himself as he stared at the floor. The pain from his Quirk's awakening still lingered, but it was nothing compared to the dread curling in his stomach.

On the other side of the desk sat Principal Langston.

A man with graying hair, thick glasses, and a permanent frown etched into his features. He was known for being strict, but fair. At least, that's what people said.

Right now, Leo doubted the "fair" part.

The door suddenly burst open.

Leo didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

"Toshinori Yagi."

The deep voice of the principal greeted him as Leo's guardian stepped into the office.

Despite his lanky, frail frame, Toshinori radiated authority. His usual warm expression was nowhere to be seen. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, landing on Leo first—taking in his bruises, his burned arms, his hunched posture.

Something dark flickered in his gaze before he turned sharply toward the principal.

"I came as soon as I heard there was trouble," Toshinori said, voice tight with concern. "What happened?"

Principal Langston adjusted his glasses. "Your ward, Mr. Yagi, has—"

"He didn't start it."

The interruption was sharp, immediate.

Leo's head snapped up. Toshinori's tone wasn't loud, but it was firm.

Principal Langston sighed, setting down a file. "Mr. Yagi—"

"Toshinori." His voice was still calm, but there was an edge beneath it now. "Tell me exactly what happened. Because I know for a fact that Leo isn't the type to start fights unprovoked."

Langston narrowed his eyes. "The fact remains that he attacked a group of students—violently. Multiple witnesses saw it."

Toshinori crossed his arms. "Did those same witnesses happen to mention that Leo has been harassed every single day since he was enrolled here?"

Langston's lips thinned.

"Did they mention how these boys—Jace Montgomery and his friends—have been tormenting him? That they target Quirkless students and kids with transformation Quirks?" Toshinori's voice rose slightly. "Or did they conveniently forget to say that part?"

Langston's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "I am aware of past reports—"

"Reports that were ignored."

Langston sighed. "Mr. Yagi, I understand your concern, but that doesn't change the fact that Leo escalated the situation. He didn't just fight back—he destroyed them. Some of those boys have serious injuries. A few of them could have promising futures as Pro Heroes."

Toshinori's expression hardened.

Leo flinched at those words.

Promising futures as heroes.

And what about him?

Would he ever get that future? Or was he just the monster they saw now?

Toshinori inhaled deeply, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. "What about Leo's future?" he asked, voice lower now. "What about his safety? Does that matter less than the sons of wealthy families with 'promising' careers ahead of them?"

Langston stiffened.

"I—"

"No," Toshinori said firmly. "You don't get to tell me that my son—" He paused for the briefest second, correcting himself. "—that Leo wasn't provoked. Because we both know he was."

Leo's breath caught.

My son.

Toshinori had never said it out loud before.

Langston looked away, sighing. "Regardless, there will be consequences."

Toshinori's jaw tightened.

Leo swallowed hard, finally speaking up for the first time. "…Am I getting expelled?"

Langston studied him for a long moment.

"No," he finally said. "But you will be suspended for the rest of the school year. Which, given that today was your last day, won't impact your academics."

Leo exhaled, shoulders sagging slightly.

Toshinori, however, still looked ready to argue.

Langston folded his hands. "I'll make a note in your record, but it won't follow you to your next school. I suggest you use this time to reflect, Leo."

Leo clenched his fists, but nodded.

Toshinori was still tense, still angry, but he exhaled sharply before turning to Leo. "Come on, my boy. Let's go home."

Leo didn't argue. He just stood, head low, and followed.


The pain had dulled to a low, warm hum beneath his skin.

Leo lay sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling, arms resting limply at his sides. His body still ached from the fight, muscles sore from the first real surge of power he'd ever felt.

But it wasn't just soreness.

It was different.

He flexed his fingers, rolling his wrists experimentally. The sensation was strange—like something inside him had shifted, like his body had been reforged. He could still feel the heat lingering beneath his skin, thrumming faintly in the new black claw marks streaked along his forearms.

It doesn't hurt anymore, he realized. Not like before.

Before, it had felt like his arms were being burned from the inside out—like something was searing into his flesh. Now, it was almost… comforting. Like a presence sitting just beneath his skin, watching. Waiting.

He sat up, rubbing his hand over the marks.

They felt like part of him now. The texture of his skin was the same—smooth, unbroken—yet changed. As if the markings weren't just designs on his body, but something alive.

Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His feet felt heavier, but lighter at the same time—like his movements had a new weight, but his body was finally in sync with something it had always been missing.

The floorboards creaked softly under his step, and Leo paused.

The sound was clearer than before. Sharpened.

Another creak—but not from him.

Down the hall, Leo heard a faint, familiar footstep.

Toshinori.

His ears picked up the quiet clatter of pots and pans, the subtle shifting of weight as the man moved around the kitchen. The sound was distant, yet crystal clear, like his senses had been dialed up to a level he never knew was possible.

He blinked.

What the hell?

This wasn't just strength. This was something else.

He needed to see it for himself.

The bathroom mirror greeted him with an unfamiliar reflection.

Leo leaned forward, gripping the edges of the sink as he studied his face.

He still looked like himself—same messy brown hair, same green eyes, same tired expression.

But the way he felt wasn't the same.

His eyes drifted down to his arms.

The claw-like markings ran up his forearms, wild and jagged, stopping just before his shoulders. In the dim bathroom light, the faint red veins within them pulsed softly, almost like a heartbeat.

He reached for the faucet, turning on the cold water.

Maybe it was just ink or blood or something. Maybe it would come off.

He scrubbed.

And scrubbed.

And scrubbed.

But the marks didn't fade.

His breath hitched slightly. He pressed his fingers against the skin, feeling the warmth beneath his touch. They weren't just on him—they were a part of him.

No amount of washing would change that.

Slowly, he looked back up at the mirror—

And his blood ran cold.

A silhouette loomed beside him.

For a split second, Leo thought someone was standing in the bathroom with him. His body tensed, his heart hammering. He reeled back slightly, eyes widening—but he didn't scream.

He just… stared.

It wasn't a person.

It was a bear.

Or at least, something shaped like a bear.

It stood beside him, massive yet shadowed, its fur like ink bleeding into the darkness of the room. But what caught Leo's breath were its eyes.

Glowing, brilliant golden eyes—piercing, intelligent.

Leo's pulse pounded in his ears. What… is this?

The bear didn't move at first. It simply watched him.

Then—it tilted its head.

Leo swallowed, unsure whether to move or say something. Was he hallucinating? Had the fight messed him up that badly?

But then, to his absolute shock—the bear smirked.

Not a snarl. Not a snide grin like Jace's.

Just a small, knowing smirk.

Like it recognized him.

Like it had been waiting for him.

Leo's hands trembled slightly. This… thing, whatever it was, was connected to him.

He didn't know how, but he could feel it.

This wasn't a monster.

It wasn't an enemy.

It was him.

Jace's voice suddenly rang in his mind. "Monster."

Leo's expression hardened.

No.

He knew who the real monster was.

It wasn't him. It wasn't the power burning inside of him, waiting to be understood.

It was the man who had ripped his life apart four years ago.

The man with the Metal mask...

Leo's gaze stayed locked on the bear, watching as it gave him one last knowing look before its image faded back into the shadows.

His reflection was normal again.

His arms still hummed with power.

And for the first time in his life, Leo Blackwood had a Quirk.

A small, sharp grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Jace could call him whatever he wanted.

Because Leo knew exactly who he was.

The scent of grilled chicken and rice filled the small apartment, the quiet clatter of utensils and the occasional shifting of chairs being the only sounds between them.

Leo sat at the kitchen table, slowly picking at his food, his mind still reeling from what had happened earlier.

The mirror. The bear.

His arms still felt warm, the strange energy humming beneath his skin like a steady pulse. Even now, he could still feel the weight of those golden eyes staring back at him.

What the hell is happening to me?

Across from him, Toshinori was watching. Closely.

For the past ten minutes, the man had been stirring his food absentmindedly, his expression thoughtful. His usual energy—the boisterous, exaggerated theatrics—was noticeably absent.

Finally, he spoke.

"…Alright, kid." Toshinori set his chopsticks down. "Out with it."

Leo blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

Toshinori raised a brow. "You've been spacing out since dinner started. And given the fact that you got into a fight bad enough to land you in the principal's office today, I'd say I have every reason to be concerned."

Leo looked down, his grip tightening on his chopsticks. He figured this was coming.

With a small sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "I don't know, man… I don't really get it either."

Toshinori frowned slightly. "Tell me what you do get."

Leo hesitated. He wanted to just shrug it off, maybe even crack a joke, but the weight of what had happened sat too heavy on his chest.

He took a breath. "I remember Jace talking about my family," he muttered. "And then… I blacked out."

Toshinori's jaw tightened.

Leo barely noticed, his mind still piecing things together. "I mean, I remember bits and pieces—the anger, the… power. It was like something inside me just snapped. And then, suddenly, I was on top of him, and my arms were burning like hell."

He glanced down at his forearms, flexing his fingers. The claw marks had settled now, looking like deep, black ink burned into his skin.

Toshinori's eyes flickered to them, his brows knitting together.

"And… how did it feel?" he asked, carefully.

Leo hesitated.

He wasn't stupid. He knew what Toshinori was really asking.

Did it scare you? Do you regret it?

The answer should've been yes.

But it wasn't.

His fingers curled slightly around his knee. "It felt…" He searched for the right words. "Strong."

Toshinori didn't react immediately, simply watching him patiently.

Leo exhaled, staring down at his plate. "Like—for the first time, I wasn't the weak one," he admitted. "I wasn't just some Quirkless loser getting the crap beaten out of him. I fought back." His voice lowered. "And they were afraid."

He should have felt guilty.

He should have been horrified at what he had done.

But deep down, beneath the initial fear and confusion, there was a part of him that had liked it.

That part of him whispered: You finally made them feel what you felt.

Toshinori sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Leo, listen to me." His voice was softer now. "It's not wrong to feel strong. It's not wrong to want to protect yourself."

He leaned forward, his blue eyes gentler now. "But if your power is fueled by your anger, then you need to be careful."

Leo swallowed. He knew Toshinori was right. But it wasn't just anger.

It was something else.

Something primal.

The air between them went quiet for a moment.

Then—Leo decided to just say it.

"I think I have a Quirk."

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

"PFFFFT—!"

Toshinori immediately choked on his tea, spraying it across the table.

Leo jerked back in surprise, watching as his guardian sputtered and coughed, gripping his chest like he'd been physically attacked.

"WHAT?!" Toshinori wheezed, still recovering from the sudden spit take. "You—what—how—?! You can't just DROP something like that mid-conversation, my boy!"

Leo snorted, crossing his arms. "You asked."

Toshinori wiped his mouth, still gaping at him. "A Quirk? You? But—how? When? Are you sure?!"

Leo rolled his eyes. "No, I just randomly decided that glowing tattoos and enhanced senses were normal."

Toshinori leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Alright, alright, back up." His expression turned serious again. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

So Leo did.

He told him about the burning sensation in his arms, the strength that surged through him during the fight. He told him about the sharpness in his senses, how he could hear the house creaking when Toshinori moved. How his body felt different—more alive.

And then, finally…

He told him about the bear.

Toshinori's expression was unreadable as he listened. He didn't interrupt, didn't question. He just let Leo talk.

When he was finished, his guardian sat back, rubbing his chin. "So," he muttered. "Not just strength, but heightened senses… and a projection of some kind."

Leo nodded. "Yeah. It was weird. It was like… I knew it. Like it knew me."

Toshinori exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "This is incredible." He smiled, almost proud. "You really might have a Quirk after all."

Leo felt something warm flicker in his chest at those words.

His entire life, he had been told he was nothing.

That he was powerless.

But now… he wasn't.

Toshinori suddenly gave him a stern look. "But," he warned, "if this Quirk is linked to your emotions—especially your anger—then you need to learn control."

Leo nodded. "I know."

Toshinori sighed, looking at him thoughtfully. For years, he had raised this boy as his own. And now? Now, Leo was stepping into something bigger.

Something dangerous.

But he wasn't alone.

Toshinori placed a hand on Leo's shoulder, offering a small, proud smile. "We'll figure this out. Together."

Leo met his gaze, and for the first time in a long time…

He actually believed that.


Toshinori Yagi was many things.

A warrior. A survivor. The Symbol of Peace.

But a Quirk researcher?

Not so much.

Yet here he was—at one in the morning, surrounded by stacks of old books, a half-drunk cup of tea gone cold on his desk, and his laptop blazing with over a dozen tabs open.

His office was a mess of crumpled notes, scattered papers, and at least three books lying open with hastily scribbled bookmarks shoved between their pages. The blue glow of the computer screen flickered against his tired face as he rubbed his temples.

Nothing.

Nothing concrete, nothing definitive—nothing that explained what the hell was happening to Leo.

Toshinori exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. His eyes scanned the screen, jumping between the registry archives of past Quirks and older research papers about late Quirk awakenings.

Age of manifestation: Typically between 4-5 years of age.

Cases of late bloomers: Rare. Oldest recorded Quirk emergence?

He clicked the link.

Case Study: Haru Nishimura, Quirk manifested at age 10.

"Ten." Toshinori muttered aloud, his fingers drumming against the desk. That was exactly how old Leo was.

He scrolled through the article, eyes darting across the words.

Subject displayed latent Quirk characteristics as a child but did not awaken his ability until placed under extreme stress.

Extreme stress.

Toshinori clenched his jaw. That fight. Jace's words. The rage Leo felt. The way his body snapped.

Was that the trigger?

Did Leo's Quirk need severe emotional distress to awaken?

If so, that was a problem.

Toshinori ran a hand down his face, exhaling deeply. Alright. One thing at a time.

He turned away from the research on late bloomers and instead focused on the nature of the Quirk itself.

Leo had mentioned the markings.

They weren't just burned onto his skin—they were a part of him. Living, breathing.

He turned to the open books on his desk, flipping through their pages. He had searched for anything on tattoo-based Quirks, but so far…

Nothing that matched.

One old registry entry had caught his attention earlier—a man from over a hundred years ago with a Quirk that allowed him to manipulate tattooed art.

Toshinori had gotten excited for all of five minutes before realizing—

It wasn't the same.

That man didn't have enhanced strength or heightened senses. He didn't feel something alive within his skin.

Toshinori sighed, slamming the book shut and muttering, "Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. That's not it, Toshinori."

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. There had to be something.

Something older.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Then, on a whim, he typed:

Pre-Quirk era—tattoo markings, ancient powers, historical records.

The search results flooded the screen.

At first, it was all historical sites, cultural traditions, old ink art techniques.

But then—one link caught his eye.

Ancient Civilization Studies – Forgotten Myths & Totemic Markings.

Toshinori clicked.

The page loaded, revealing an old archival site dedicated to lost civilizations and their ancient rituals. Most of it seemed unrelated—until he scrolled down.

His breath hitched.

An old mural.

Faded, cracked stone. A depiction of warriors—marked with black ink, their bodies lined with glowing symbols.

And at the center—

A man with a roaring bear etched across his chest.

Toshinori stilled.

His mind raced, eyes flicking between the engraved markings and the image burned into Leo's skin.

It was too similar.

Coincidence?

No.

This was something else.

He scrolled further, scanning the fragmented translations beside the image.

The bear spirit, bound by chains… A power that walks beside its wielder, neither separate nor whole… A force both protector and destroyer…

Toshinori sat back, gripping his chin.

Leo's Quirk… was alive.

Not in the way of a simple animal transformation Quirk. Not like where the entity was an extension of his body.

No. Leo's power had a will. A presence. A consciousness.

And that? That was dangerous.

Toshinori ran a hand through his hair, staring at the screen.

How far does this go back?

How long had this power existed? How many had wielded it before Leo?

And more importantly—

Could Leo learn to coexist with it?

Or would it one day consume him?

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Toshinori glanced at the doorway to Leo's room, where the boy was likely asleep—or trying to be.

His grip tightened.

Whatever this power was, Leo wasn't facing it alone.

Not while he was still here to guide him.


The moon hung high outside Leo's window, casting pale silver light across his bedroom floor. The night was quiet, the faint hum of cars in the distance the only sign that the world outside was still moving.

But inside his room, Leo sat wide awake.

He stared at his arms—the black claw marks carved into his flesh. They pulsed softly, a steady, rhythmic warmth that wasn't unpleasant. If anything, it was… comforting.

He ran his fingers over the marks, feeling the smoothness of his skin beneath them. They weren't raised, weren't rough or uneven. They felt just like the rest of him—except for the strange heat they radiated, like embers buried beneath his skin.

His eyes drifted to his chest, where the roaring bear symbol lay, its bared fangs frozen in an eternal snarl. The chains wrapped around it still looked like they were trying to hold it back. But the cracks in the links…

Were those always there?

He exhaled, leaning back against his pillows. His body was still buzzing with the energy from earlier, but at the same time, he felt strangely… relieved.

For the first time in his life, he wasn't powerless.

He had a Quirk.

He wasn't a burden anymore.

A small, breathy chuckle escaped him, his lips tugging into a soft smile. It felt unreal. He had spent his entire life believing he would never have one.

And now?

Now it was engraved into his body, written into his very being.

Leo sighed, letting his head tilt back as his smile faded slightly.

But why now?

Quirks didn't just appear after a decade of nothing. Most kids awakened theirs between the ages of four and five. If they didn't? Well, that was the end of the road. The doctors always said that if there were no signs by that age, then the person was almost certainly Quirkless for life.

And yet—here he was.

His fingers absentmindedly traced over his arms again, feeling the warmth beneath them.

Had the doctors been wrong?

Or had his Quirk been dormant this whole time, waiting for something to trigger it?

He frowned, thinking back to today's fight. The way he had snapped, the way his body had moved on instinct.

It had been anger that awakened it.

Not training. Not genetics. Not something natural.

It had been his rage.

His fingers clenched.

Would that happen every time? Would he have to lose control just to use his power?

No.

That couldn't be right.

His thoughts drifted to Toshinori.

Over the years, the man had been nothing but kind to him. Despite his failing health, despite his responsibilities, he had raised Leo like his own.

But deep down, a small, ugly voice whispered—

"He only took you in because he pitied you."

Leo's jaw clenched.

For years, he had been helpless. A Quirkless kid with nothing to his name. The kind of kid heroes didn't even look at twice.

Deep down, he had wondered—had Toshinori ever regretted taking him in?

Had he ever thought, This boy will never be able to stand beside me?

Had he ever looked at Leo and felt… disappointed?

Leo shook his head. No. Toshinori wasn't like that. He wouldn't think that way.

But still…

At least now, he didn't have to wonder anymore.

He finally had something to prove that he wasn't useless.

His eyes fell back to his arms, watching the way his new markings pulsed with warmth.

They weren't just power—they were proof.

Proof that the world had been wrong about him.

The smile returned, just slightly. Let them call him weak now.

But there was still one problem.

How the hell did he activate it?

Leo sat up, staring at his arms like they might just answer him.

"Alright," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "How do I turn this thing on?"

He clenched his fists. Nothing.

He focused, trying to push the energy outward. Still nothing.

He growled under his breath. "C'mon, work with me here."

The bear had appeared earlier. Was that part of it?

Did he need to call it out?

Leo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

He tried to will the bear to appear.

Nothing.

He peeked one eye open and muttered, "...Hello?"

Silence.

Leo groaned, rubbing his temples. "I look like an idiot."

Alright. Maybe forcing it wasn't the way.

His mind ran through the possibilities. He had no idea how his Quirk worked yet. Did it activate automatically when he was in danger? Was it something he had to trigger manually?

Or…

Should he just throw caution to the wind and figure it out himself?

Toshinori would probably say to wait, to learn more before using it recklessly.

But Leo had never been the patient type.

The marks on his arms pulsed again, as if responding to his thoughts.

A slow grin spread across his face.

Only time would tell.


Toshinori Yagi was running on fumes.

The scent of strong black coffee filled the small kitchen, steam curling up from his mug as he sat hunched over the table, elbows resting on the surface, fingers pressed against his forehead.

His eyes burned from too many hours staring at a screen, his brain fried from too many articles about ancient totems, late-bloomer Quirks, and theoretical genetics.

His sleep-deprived decision had been made.

Leo needed a fresh start.

And there was only one place that made sense.

Japan.

He took a slow sip of his coffee, sighing as the warmth tried to trick his body into believing it wasn't running on maybe two hours of rest.

Then—the sound of footsteps.

Toshinori looked up as Leo emerged from his room, stretching his arms above his head, his black hair an absolute mess from sleep.

The kid blinked blearily at him, still waking up. "Morning."

Toshinori gave him a small, tired smile. "Good morning, my boy."

Leo didn't respond right away, just grabbed an apple from the counter and took a massive bite, chewing as he moved to sit across from him.

For a few moments, they sat there in silence.

Toshinori watched as Leo absentmindedly turned the apple in his hand, lost in thought. His arms were still marked, but the pulsing glow from last night had faded. The warmth of his new Quirk still lingered beneath his skin, though. Toshinori could see it in the way Leo's fingers twitched, like he was getting used to something new.

Now or never.

Toshinori exhaled and set his mug down. "We're moving to Japan."

Leo paused mid-chew.

Slowly, he blinked at him, swallowing his bite of apple.

"…Huh?"

"We're moving," Toshinori repeated, leaning back in his chair. "To Japan."

Leo stared at him for a solid five seconds, then took another bite before speaking, voice slightly muffled. "Why?"

Toshinori sighed, leaning forward, his hands clasped together as his expression turned serious. "Because, Leo… you need a fresh start."

Leo raised a brow, still chewing. "What's wrong with this one?"

Toshinori gave him a look.

Leo rolled his eyes. "Alright, fair point."

"The bullying," Toshinori continued. "The lack of proper Quirk education in this state—frankly, in this country as a whole. You need to be somewhere where you can learn—where you can grow without constantly being knocked down."

Leo tapped his fingers against the table, weighing his options.

Pros:

New place, new culture.

Japan had some of the best Quirk education programs.

Maybe, just maybe, people his age wouldn't suck as much.

Cons:

New place meant having to learn his way around.

The language. He had some basics down thanks to Toshinori (and, embarrassingly, anime), but still.

He might end up an outcast. Again.

Leo leaned back in his chair, tapping the apple against his chin. "I dunno, man. Learning Japanese is gonna be a pain in the ass."

Toshinori hummed, sipping his coffee. "You're not entirely hopeless at it."

Leo scoffed. "I can say, like, five sentences and one of them is 'I am bread.'"

Toshinori chuckled. "Then you are at least a very self-aware piece of bread."

Leo snorted, shaking his head.

But deep down, his stomach twisted.

A fresh start sounded… good. It really did.

But what if he failed?

What if he was just as useless over there?

Self-doubt curled at the edges of his mind, whispering all the worst things he had ever thought about himself.

That's when Toshinori suddenly stood up.

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Uh—?"

And then—BOOM.

A huge gust of air blasted through the kitchen as Toshinori shifted into his All Might form.

Leo coughed, waving the air away. "Dude! Warn me before you go nuclear at the breakfast table!"

But Toshinori grinned down at him, beaming his signature, award-winning, Pro-Hero-Symbol-of-Peace smile.

His hands went to his hips, and with his most heroic tone possible, he declared—

"BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN YOU, MY BOY!"

Leo froze.

His brain stopped working.

For a solid two seconds, he just… stared.

Toshinori gave him a big thumbs up, sparkling in true All Might fashion.

Leo blinked again. Then—

"…You're so dramatic."

Toshinori burst into laughter.

Leo groaned, palming his face. "God, you're like a living anime character."

Still laughing, Toshinori sat back down, shifting back into his normal form. "But I mean it, Leo."

His voice softened slightly, but the sincerity was still there.

"I believe in you."

Leo stared down at his half-eaten apple.

Something warm spread through his chest, unfamiliar yet oddly… nice.

He let out a slow exhale, then—a small smile tugged at his lips.

He gave a quiet chuckle before taking a massive bite, juice running down his chin.

"Alright," he muttered between bites. "Let's do it."

Toshinori's grin widened.

Leo still had doubts. Still had fears.

But if this man—this giant, ridiculous, legendary hero—had faith in him…

Then he'd give it his all.

Because for the first time in a long time…

Maybe he believed in himself, too.


Toshinori Yagi was a lot of things.

The Number One Hero. The Symbol of Peace. A living legend.

But a moving expert?

Apparently, he was that too.

Leo sat on the couch—or at least, what was left of the couch—watching Toshinori pace around the apartment, his phone pressed firmly to his ear.

"Yes! That's right!" Toshinori said, voice booming as he shifted into his All Might persona mid-conversation. "We'll need everything packed and shipped to Japan! My dear boy and I are relocating!"

Leo raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Dude, why are you talking like you're narrating a heroic farewell?"

Toshinori ignored him, still grinning into the phone.

"Yes! All of it! No, no—just send it to the address I provided! I'll handle the costs! Of course! Ahaha!"

Leo shook his head, watching this whole spectacle unfold. It was honestly hilarious.

The best part? The poor person on the other end of the line was probably having a mild heart attack.

The Symbol of Peace himself was calling to ship an entire apartment overseas.

Toshinori finally hung up, sighing in satisfaction. "And that's that!"

Leo smirked. "You just traumatized a shipping company employee for life."

Toshinori beamed. "They will have a glorious story to tell their grandchildren!"

Leo just snorted, shaking his head. This guy.

Hours Later – The Airport

The day had blurred by so fast.

One second, they were still in the apartment, sorting through their final things. The next, they were at the airport.

Leo stood beside Toshinori, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, staring out at the planes through the large terminal windows.

The sky was a clear blue, the faint roar of jet engines filling the air as planes taxied down the runway. The airport was buzzing with travelers, some dragging suitcases, others rushing to their gates.

It all felt… surreal.

Toshinori, standing beside him, let out a small hum. "Ready to start again?"

Leo's fingers twitched slightly.

For the third time…

His mind flashed back.

To the worst day of his life.

Smoke. Blood. His sister's laughter turning into screams. His mother's lifeless hand slipping from his grip.

For a moment, his breath hitched.

But then—as quickly as the memory came, it was broken.

By a beaming, ridiculous smile.

Leo turned, blinking up at Toshinori, who grinned down at him with that same, unwavering confidence.

His chest loosened slightly.

The past wasn't gone. It would never be gone.

But maybe… maybe the future wasn't as far away as he thought.

Leo exhaled, glancing around the airport.

This was Wyoming. His home for the past four years.

And he was leaving it behind.

For how long?

Maybe forever.

He took in the sight one last time. The bustling terminal, the distant mountains visible through the windows, the faint smell of overpriced airport food lingering in the air.

Then—he took a step forward.

Right toward the gate for their flight to Japan.

Toshinori followed, and as they approached the line, Leo tilted his head toward him.

"By the way," he muttered. "You're gonna have to help me with Japanese."

Toshinori chuckled, but Leo gave him a flat stare. "No, seriously. I don't wanna introduce myself to someone and accidentally say I'm a sentient loaf."

Toshinori burst into laughter and clapped a hand on his shoulder. ""Don't worry, my boy! I shall mold you into a true Japanese speaker!"

Leo rolled his eyes. "I already regret this."

With that, the final call for their flight echoed over the intercom.

Leo took a breath.

And stepped onto the plane.