Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku has always been good at making friends. Not human ones, really, but they are good friends nonetheless.
There’s the little flower lady, Petal, who lives in a rose bush near his apartment, who always speaks to him in excited twinkles and shrieks with joy when he gives her peppermint candies. They’re bigger than her head, though, so he only brings her one a week.
He likes sitting and talking to Aoi, the boy with pale green skin and hair like algae at the pond near the park, who tells him amazing stories of vast lakes in faraway places that he’s visited with his father. He really likes tuna mayo onigiri, so when Izuku has a little extra allowance, he buys him one and they sit and eat and talk and play until one of their respective parents call them home.
There are more besides, little creatures who look like dewdrops or animals made of tree bark, little rolling dust clumps with inquisitive eyes who love to eat his pocket lint. Some talk and others don’t, but it’s easy to make friends with all of them. They come and go sometimes, disappearing and reappearing according to their own whims, but that’s okay. There’s always someone to talk to.
He doesn’t really start thinking about his lack of human friends until he finds out he’s quirkless--or virtually so, according to his doctor.
“He likely has what we would call an invisible quirk, judging by his lack of extra toe joint.” The man’s mustache twitches, looking not unlike a friend he’d made a few days before. Izuku doesn’t want to listen to what he’s saying, so he focuses on that instead. “It’s a quirk that doesn’t make itself easily known. It’s not that uncommon for people in his situation to never even find out what their quirk is, simply because it’s so obscure.”
His mother shifts in her seat. “He does talk frequently about having ‘friends’. Not ones from school, they seem to be imaginary, but he has a new one almost every day—“
Dr. Tsubasa simply nods, Izuku watching his mustache bob with the movement. “A very active imagination, not uncommon in a boy his age. It’s not likely to have anything to do with any kind of quirk he may have.”
Even as he tries to distract himself, Izuku can feel his heart sinking. He knows that society is driven by and obsessed with quirks, young as he is. Every hero he’s ever heard of, especially All Might, has a quirk. Even Kacchan has a cool quirk now, making his palms pop and crackle with bursts of light. Everyone had praised him, and at the time Izuku couldn’t wait to develop his cool quirk, too.
Only now, that would probably never happen.
Izuku isn’t stupid, even as a four-year-old. He notices the sad looks his mother gives him when he watches news segments with heroes, or when he asks her to bring up the video of All Might’s debut again. She used to smile brightly when he told her he wanted to be a hero just like All Might, but now she looks pained, like she’s trying to hold back tears.
Kacchan tells him it’s impossible, that he’ll never be a hero without a quirk. He starts calling him Deku, and Izuku starts spending less time with him and more time with his other friends. He tries to explain the situation to them, but most of them don’t seem to understand.
“I don’t think I can be a hero,” he tells Aoi one day when his mom takes him to the park.
Aoi looks shocked at that. “Why? You always talk about it! And you’re really nice, and brave! Didn’t you say that stuff is important to be a hero?”
“Well, yeah, but…” Izuku trails off, sniffling. He can feel hot tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to overflow. “I’m quirkless.”
Aoi tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Quirkless?”
“It means I don’t have a quirk,” Izuku says. “Or, well, mine is weird enough that we don’t know what it is yet, and probably useless.”
Recognition seems to spark in Aoi’s expression. “Oh, you mean the magic stuff that humans have?”
Izuku bristles immediately. “I-it’s not magic! It’s biological evolution!” He almost adds that magic doesn’t exist, but he decides that it might not be very nice to say.
“What’s ‘biological evolution’?” Aoi asks.
“I… don’t know,” Izuku admits. “That’s what the adults on tv always say, though.”
Aoi shrugs. “It doesn’t sound that interesting. You definitely have magic, though, so why worry about it?”
“Wh-what?!” Izuku asks, startled. “I don’t have magic!”
“Yes you do.” Aoi actually looks annoyed, which doesn’t happen often. “I can tell you do. You smell different than other humans, and other humans can’t see or talk to us.”
Izuku opens and closes his mouth, his brain slowly working over that information. He knew his mother and the other kids at his preschool couldn’t see his friends like he could, but it had never quite occurred to him to question that fact. “But… magic isn’t real.”
“Of course it is!” Aoi actually gets up. “Magic is everywhere! That’s what my dad always tells me. It’s in the air, in the plants and the earth, and especially in the water!”
Izuku’s eyes immediately widen. “Really?”
“Yes.” The voice comes from a new speaker, one Izuku doesn’t recognize. It sounds deep, but still definitely feminine. Izuku turns behind him to look for whose voice it is and sees a huge cat.
At first glance, the cat looks a lot like a normal house cat, until he takes into consideration the size. She’s bigger than most dogs, closer to a big cat like a cheetah. She’s sprawled out beneath a tree nearby, purple eyes half-lidded but still on Izuku. Her fur is mostly black with swirls of silver on her back and silver tips on her ears. She definitely hadn’t been there before.
“If you don’t know that,” the cat says slowly, “then your education seems to be severely lacking, young one.”
Izuku slowly stands up. “M-my education is fine!” he says. “Mom teaches me things, and I’m learning things in preschool--” He stops at the sound of a low chuckle from the cat. It almost sounds like a purr.
“Your human education is fine, perhaps,” the cat says, “but your education on our world is non-existent, isn’t it?” The cat climbs to her feet and slinks towards him. He should probably be scared, but he’s not. Some creatures he sees feel dangerous, and he never goes near them. She doesn’t.
She walks around him, seeming to size him up. When Izuku looks back, Aoi looks as bewildered and in awe as he feels.
“There’s no help for it.” The cat sits up straight, looking down on him. Her eyes glitter and swirl, like they contain a galaxy. Her tail swishes once before wrapping itself neatly around her paws. “I’ll have to teach you. You need looking after, in any case. A power like yours is rare, and some may choose to try to take advantage of you.”
Aoi comes to stand next to Izuku. “And what about you?” he says. “What do you get out of all this, Luck Spirit?”
Luck Spirit? Izuku stares at her for a moment, trying to comprehend how Aoi could know that.
The cat’s eyes narrow slightly. “Bold, for a young kelpie.” Her eyes slide back to Izuku. “You do well to make allies, but the worry is unfounded. I merely wish for you to fill your destiny as unimpeded as possible.”
Izuku stares at her in confusion. “My destiny?”
“I don’t know exactly what it may be,” she replies. “As your friend pointed out, I’m a Luck Spirit, not one with foresight. I have an idea, though. And if I’m right, it’s good for someone to make sure you are not led astray.” As Izuku watches, she shrinks, swirls curling on her back until they disappear. When she’s finished, she’s suddenly the size of a normal house cat, still with purple eyes and silver ear tips. “In the meantime, I’ll stay by your side.” She walks over to him, rubbing herself against his leg.
Izuku looks between the cat (Luck Spirit?) and Aoi, unsure how to respond. Aoi doesn’t look quite sure, either.
“Luck Spirits can be fickle, but if they like you, that’s usually a good thing…” he says, trailing off a little.
The cat chuckles. “That is certainly one way to put it.” She suddenly trots off, pausing only to look back at Izuku to see if he’s following her. “Come. We should speak with your mother.”
“B-both of us?” he asks in confusion, but he follows regardless. “Seeya later, Aoi!”
“Good luck!” Aoi calls back.
The cat ahead of him laughs. “Good luck favors the young,” she says, “and I am no exception. Don’t worry, young Izuku, I’ll make sure you have good luck.”
The talk with his mother is almost surprisingly easy. The Luck Spirit/cat leaps into her lap as she sits on the bench and lays down, seeming to win her over instantly.
“She’s so friendly,” his mother says, petting her as she starts to purr. “A cat this tame must belong to someone. We’ll take her home and put up found posters.” Izuku simply nods, still surprised by the fact that she can even see the cat.
A few weeks pass, and, of course, no one comes to claim the Luck Spirit.
“I suppose we should keep her, at this point,” his mother says. The Luck Spirit is in her lap again, looking quite smug. “What should we name her, Izuku?”
“You may call me Lady,” the Luck Spirit says, rubbing her head against his mother’s hand.
“I think she’d like Lady,” he says aloud.
His mother smiles. “Lady it is, then.”
Lady and Izuku are nearly inseparable after that. No closed door is capable of keeping Lady out or in, as his mother soon realizes with exasperation.
“There must be a hole or window she’s getting out of somewhere, but I can’t for the life of me tell where,” she says after another day where Lady returns home with Izuku after he goes out to play. Lady, on her part, merely grooms herself with smug satisfaction that only a cat (or a Luck Spirit, Izuku thinks) can manage.
She doesn’t often take her larger form. Izuku only remembers her doing so a handful of times over the years. Once, when he’s six, is after an oni threatens to eat him. One look from Lady’s full form had made him turn tail, though. It’s the first time since she initially spoke to him that he really has an idea of how powerful she might be.
The other ways she interferes with his life are more subtle. Sometimes, she’ll get a certain look in her eye, and with a lash of her tail, something unexpected happens, like the time Bakugou was chasing him around the playground, intending to beat him up again. Lady’s tail had lashed, and Bakugou had tripped suddenly over a root Izuku didn’t remember seeing before. He’d gotten away with no new bruises, though.
Lady is unpredictable, capricious even, but it isn’t long before Izuku finds himself valuing her advice and her friendship. She knows far more about both worlds, that of his friends and that of humans, than he does.
---
Lady can’t follow him into school, though. It’s not a big loss, though he might feel a bit safer there with her at his side. For the moment, though, he’s looking outside. A bird flutters by, one with four wings, and it pauses for a moment to look at him. He watches it, too, it’s plumage glittering like sapphires and emeralds in the sunlight.
“Oh, isn’t Midoriya applying for U.A. as well?”
Izuku feels his insides freeze as the words leave the teacher’s mouth. His eyes are jerked away from the window and back to the classroom As the years had passed, Izuku had never given up his dream of becoming a hero.
It had helped that his friends had encouraged it. He knows what they are now, thanks to Lady: spirits, creatures of myth and legends, things humans have stories about but have long forgotten how to see. Except Izuku. Once they knew of his aspirations, they whispered to each other, passing news of fights between heroes and villains to each other. Most of them encouraged him as he walked by them, too. It is a sharp contrast to the reactions of humans in his life.
There’s a moment of silence following the teacher’s words. Izuku tries to duck his head down, but it doesn’t work. The classroom erupts into mocking laughter. It rings in his ears, fills his brain with the reminder that none of them think he’s worth anything.
He wishes they had all been laughing, though. A moment after it starts, a fist slams down on his desk, snapping it in two. He nearly screams from the shock of it, trying to climb to his feet, but Bakugou is suddenly there, grabbing the front of his uniform to pull him closer.
“What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull?” he snarls. “Getting into U.A.? You don’t have a chance in hell.” He practically throws Izuku back into his chair, making him nearly fall over with it. “I’m the only person in this shitty school who is getting into U.A. The rest of you half bit side characters can rot in hell for all I care. And goes doubly for you, shitty useless Deku.”
The teacher doesn’t speak through Bakugou’s tirade. The teacher never does. Bakugou’s too important to the school. He’s the golden boy, the one who’s going to be a top hero that everyone remembers. Izuku is just quirkless.
When the bell finally rings, Izuku tries to gather his things up as quickly as possible. Bakugou has been casting him enraged glances ever since the announcement about his choice of high school. He isn’t quick enough, though. He’s just about to stuff his most recent hero analysis notebook into his bag when it’s plucked out of his fingers. He looks up in horror to see Bakugou flipping through it, his two cronies peering over his shoulders to get a look. Every page seems to only make Bakugou angrier.
Finally, he snaps it shut, shooting Izuku a look of pure loathing that makes his stomach sour. “What a bunch of useless bullshit.” He holds it up in one hand, and Izuku lets out a strangled cry when it explodes in flames. It goes out again quickly, but the book is still noticeably burned. “You think this will help you be a hero, shitty Deku? That following around heroes and writing down shit about them will suddenly give you a quirk?”
“N-no—“ Izuku starts, but Bakugou cuts him off.
“Newsflash: you’re quirkless. You’re always gonna be quirkless, and that means you’re always gonna be useless. Don’t try to act like you’re better than you are, applying to U.A. They’d never accept someone like you.”
Izuku can feel tears gathering in his traitorous eyes. Damn it, why does he always have to start crying? He looks down, trying to hide it. “I-it’s worth a try, though.” He cries out in pain as a burning hand grips his shoulder.
“You’re just wasting everyone’s time,” Bakugou sneers, inches from his face now. “The least you can do is stay out of my way and pretend you don’t exist.” Bakugou backs up and releases him, and Izuku tries not to let out the gasp of relief he feels bubbling in his throat.
“You can start by getting rid of this.” Bakugou walks over to the window, Izuku’s notebook still in hand, and Izuku feels a jolt of panic as he realizes what he’s going to do. Izuku tries to go after him, but it’s too late. Bakugou tosses it almost lazily out the window and out of Izuku’s grasp.
He lets out a strangled cry. Months of analysis, literally gone out the window. He chokes back a sob, unable to tear his gaze away from the blue sky outside.
Bakugou walks away, suddenly looking like he’s in a better mood. “If you really want a quirk so bad, shitty Deku, then maybe you should toss yourself off the roof and hope for one in the next life!”
Izuku hears Bakugou leave the classroom as he continues to stare out the window, shaking fists clenched at his sides and tears rolling down his cheeks. Everyone else had cleared out now. He’s the only one left.
“S-stupid Kacchan,” he whispers past sobs. “I-if I really did do it, he’d be in trouble…”
Somehow, Izuku collects himself and the rest of his things and hurries outside. It’s the thought that he might still be able to find his notebook that drives him. Bakugou had tossed it near the little koi pond, but there’s still a chance—
He finds Lady waiting for him, holding the notebook in her mouth by the binding as she sits on the edge of the koi pond. Her tail lashes in irritation.
Izuku gingerly takes the notebook from her. “Thanks, Lady.” He flips through it and is relieved to find that the damage is mostly external. His notes are safe.
“That human is a menace,” Lady says, making him start. The tone of her voice has a dangerous edge. “You should let me deal with him.”
Izuku lets out a strangled yelp. “Last time you tried to deal with him, he almost got hit by a bus!”
She sighs. “I wouldn’t actually kill him, but a few near-death experiences might instill a little humility into that thick head of his.”
Izuku still bristles at that. “Lady, no! You can’t just do that to people!”
“I know, I know.” She leaps down, rubbing his leg once as a show of assurance. “I won’t do it. I’m merely musing.” She walks briskly away from him suddenly, looking back to check for him. “In any case, we need to get moving. I’ve gotten news of an injured qilin. You have your first aid kit, correct?”
Izuku hurries after her, anxiety from the day finally starting to melt away. “A qilin? I’ve never met one before!”
“Yes, they’re rare and quite powerful. I’m surprised as well.” There’s a hint of worry in her voice.
“How far is it?” he asks.
“Closer to your home than here,” she says. “Follow me.”
Lady leads him part way home, going his usual route. There’s more people this way, but she never seems to be bothered by people walking. She winds through legs, and not a single passerby notices her. They notice Izuku, though, with his constant muttering of, “Excuse me, pardon me,” as he tries to keep Lady in sight. It doesn’t always work, and she sometimes has to backtrack, looking a bit huffy, but he does keep up mostly.
He’s relieved when Lady takes him down a less populated street, but less relieved when she finally ducks down a shady-looking alley, tail waving for him to follow. Izuku does, reluctantly. He knows Lady would never lead him into trouble (at least, not trouble involving humans or villains), but he can’t help but feel nervous, warnings from his mother ringing in his head.
When he turns into the alley, though, he sees the creature Lady had told him about.
The qilin is large, vaguely shaped like a horse, and nearly takes up the whole alley laying on its side. They have the legs of a horse, too, ending in hooves. Three of them are curled up against it, but one, a back leg, is stretched out, a gash cutting through their light green scales. The rest of their body is covered in them, and their head looks more reptilian, with two pointed horns on their temples. A mane of green fire burns weakly down their spine, though bright yellow eyes watch him as he approaches, lizard-like tail lashing.
“Luck Spirit,” they say, voice obviously pained, “why have you brought a human to me?” Their eyes flick over to Lady. “What is your intent?”
Lady sits back on her haunches, looking a bit smug. “You’ve heard of the human who speaks to our kind by now, I’m sure?”
Izuku kneels down, slowly setting his backpack beside him. “I’m not here to hurt you or anything,” he says. “I just want to try to patch you up, if that’s okay.” He can sense that this qilin has no ill intent towards him, but they’re wary all the same. He can’t really blame them, not with that gash they’ve got. He tries not to wince while looking at it.
The qilin’s eyes widen a little. “So you’re that human.” They bow their head, to Izuku’s surprise. “Yes, I’ve heard of you, and the good things you’ve done for the smaller folk.” Izuku nods at that. “The smaller folk” was a collective term many of the more powerful spirits and creatures used for sprites and nature spirits, small beings that exist in everything living. Most of Izuku’s friends growing up had been them. Many powerful creatures seem almost disdainful of them, but some, like Lady and maybe this qilin, think of them as allies.
“I try to be nice to people,” Izuku says. “I’d rather help, you know?”
The qilin watches him for a moment, seeming to try to gauge him, and Izuku feels himself squirm a little under their gaze. Finally, though, they rest their head on a front leg, eyes closing.
“Yes, I can see that,” they say. “You’re a good human.” They open one eye, looking at Lady. “I can see why you caught the attention of a Luck Spirit.”
Lady gives them her patented cheshire grin but doesn’t reply.
Izuku unzips his bag and pulls the first aid kit out. He’d started carrying it a few years ago to help out any creature he saw injured, which happened more often than he liked to admit. It helped some for him, too, when Bakugou and other bullies at school started to get more aggressive. He takes it with him over to the qilin’s side, flipping it open with practiced ease. Lady comes to sit near the qilin’s head as he gets to work, first taking out antiseptic.
“What happened?” Lady asks. “It’s not often that something could take a qilin by surprise.”
“You can call me Daitu,” the qilin says. “And it was an error on my part.” Their expression darkens. “I saw a demon stalking a human.”
Lady’s eyes narrow, and Izuku starts. He’d only met a demon once before, a small one who tried to convince Izuku to take a gold coin. Lady had chased it off and explained to him how dangerous they could be. One following a human seems very bad.
“What kind of demon?” Lady asks.
“He told me himself that he’s of the variety that feeds on pain and fear,” Daitu says. “He had dark blue skin, and horns that curled like a ram’s. He didn’t tell me his name, but then, demons rarely do.”
“So he did this to you,” Izuku whispers. Daitu hadn’t even flinched when Izuku cleaned the wound. He starts to bandage it, relying on tape and squares of gauze.
Daitu nods. “A cheap shot, after I told him to go back to his own realm and bother the denizens there. He said the humans here were much more interesting.”
“Some of the humans can be… well. I can’t say I’m entirely surprised,” Lady says. “I’m sorry.”
Daitu shrugs. “It was my own fault, ultimately.” They turn their head to Izuku. “At least not all humans have fallen that far. It is good to know there are still kind ones here, especially one who can speak to us. What is your name?”
Izuku falters for a moment, his hands fumbling with the bandage. Lady had told him before that trusting creatures with his name is not always wise. He glances at Lady, who slowly nods. He relaxes a little. “My name is Midoriya Izuku,” he says.
“Midoriya Izuku,” Daitu says, nodding. “If you ever have need of me, simply call, and I will repay my debt.”
Izuku sits suddenly up straight, nerves flaring. “Y-you don’t--I mean, it’s not that big of a deal, honestly! You don’t have to repay me!”
To his surprise, Daitu chuckles. “Perhaps not, but I wish to. Keep it in mind, Midoriya Izuku. The day may come when you have need of me.” Izuku nods respectfully, going back to finishing the bandage, and Lady chuckles, too.
“He’s always like this,” she says. “Too chivalrous to take repayment where it is due, at times.”
“It’s not a bad quality,” Daitu says. “But I have a feeling you will need as many allies as you can muster.”
Izuku’s breath catches in his throat. Some of the more powerful creatures talk to him like that, sometimes. They all seem to have the same idea that he’s going to do something great, even though Izuku can’t see it himself. Lady has brought it up more than once, though even she has no idea what his “destiny” may hold. A part of him is incredibly curious, almost willing to try to question spirits at times, but he doesn’t quite dare, because the other half of him is frightened. He wants to be a hero, though. Even if it’s just a hero to his friends, the invisible creatures that only he can see, maybe that’s enough.
He still wants to go to U.A., too.
“Have you heard whispers of anything?” Lady asks before Izuku can think of a proper response.
Izuku jerks backwards, shifting from his knees to his behind, when Daitu slowly climbs to their feet. They test the leg, which buckles a little, but straightens back out.
“Nothing more than whispers,” they reply. “The same whispers I’ve heard for a few years now. Demons are being drawn back to our world. It’s slow now, but…”
“They’re hoping for more chaos among the humans,” Lady says. “That makes difficulties for us, too.”
“Drawn back?” Izuku says. “I thought demons mostly stayed in their own world.” After all, he thinks, they seem pretty rare.
“Not always,” Lady says. “They love times of turmoil among the humans. It gives them strength, and with that strength, they start to attack us to gain more.” She looks somber. “It’s been some years since they’ve gained power, since before you were born, but I’m afraid another era of human strife may be coming.”
Izuku swallows nervously. “What kind of strife? Like, when villains were more prominent?”
“Perhaps,” Daitu says. “It’s hard to tell, with humans.”
Izuku thinks about that for the moment. A resurgence of villains doesn’t make sense. After all, All Might, the Symbol of Peace, was at the forefront of ushering in an age of safety. He’s still around, as Izuku knows very well. He follows his favorite hero’s exploits almost religiously. It is true that he does less lately, though. He leaves more to other heroes. Izuku never thought that was necessarily bad (after all, there are a lot of heroes), but maybe it could be the harbinger of something sinister. Maybe villains could see it as a sign of weakness. That makes his blood run cold.
He shakes his head. What can one middle schooler do about it, though? It’s not as if he can tell anyone his thoughts or theories. The source is from a qilin, a mythical creature. Even pictures don’t show them. He found out a long, long time ago that no one would believe his “active imagination.”
“Thank you again, Midoriya Izuku,” Daitu says, bowing their head to him. Izuku, drawn out of his own thoughts, quickly does the same.
“I-it was really nice meeting you!” he says. “I’ve never met a qilin before!”
“And I’ve never met a human before, truly. I suppose we’re even. I hope to see you again.” With that, the qilin leaps--over the building, Izuku sees with wonder, and quickly out of sight.
“That was more informative than I was anticipating,” Lady says.
Izuku shivers. “What should we do?”
“Nothing, for now,” she replies. She stretches languorously before trotting to the entrance of the alley. “Come. You should continue to focus on your own goals. Try not to worry too much.”
“Easier said than done,” he mutters, but he follows after her.
Once he gets home, Izuku goes almost immediately up to his room. Lady, well aware of his plans, instead turns her attention to his mother. He can hear her cooing over her as he climbs the stairs, grinning to himself. Lady might actually be a Luck Spirit, but she takes to life as a cat incredibly well. She eats up the attention (and the dried anchovies his mother likes to give her as treats).
Once he gets to his room, Izuku pulls the most recent of a stack of notebooks out from under his bed. It’s only the seventh, because he started them later than his hero notebooks, but they’re important nonetheless. The title scrawled on the front is Creature Observations for the Future.
He flips to a new page and starts to sketch Daitu, occasionally scrawling out information as he goes. The sketch is rough (Izuku doesn’t have the best drawing skills, but he thinks he might be getting a bit better) but his analysis is thorough.
“Fire mane seems to indicate fire abilities, though they weren’t shown. Could be cold fire, though, or some other kind, given the odd color.
“Scales are thick and tough. The demon who slashed through them must have a sharp claw or blade of some kind.
“Kind and honorable, just as the stories suggest. They insisted upon paying me back, though I don’t have much idea of their true abilities or how they would intend to help.”
Finally, Izuku finishes both the drawing and analysis. He taps his pencil on his lower lip, trying to decide if he should write something else.
More than a few creatures had offered their help to him in the future. The books were one way of keeping track, but also a good way of collecting his thoughts. He was just as interested in the powers and abilities of his friends as he was those of heroes, truth be told. He has many pages dedicated to Lady and Aoi alone, mostly based on his own observations. He’d asked Aoi a few questions, but Lady had always evaded giving him a real answer. He didn’t expect much else, though.
Izuku had a few thoughts lately about what to do with the information he had compiled. It occurred to him suddenly one night, when he’d laid awake thinking about how he could possibly be of any use as a hero.
Maybe he couldn’t, but his friends could. They might be invisible to other humans, with a few exceptions (Lady in her cat form being one), but their powers were not. Tiny water and rain spirits left the dew on leaves every morning. Ice wraiths could bring an unseasonable frost. Unexplainable fires were often started by creatures with some sort of fire breath. The list goes on, the ways his friends could influence the human world.
Maybe he could convince someone to help him, to work with him to become a hero. If he could make it seem like he has a quirk, at least, then maybe he could get into U.A., work harder at becoming a hero, and make more friends who can help him in more ways. That makes his heart soar, the idea of being able to help people using his friends’ powers.
He can continue to help his friends, too. Maybe with support, he can even try to help fight demons.
His thoughts are cut off by a scraping at his window. He looks up, frowning a little. There’s a tree outside that sometimes scrapes the side of the apartment, but it’s usually not quite this loud. Could it be a spirit, looking to get his attention? He climbs to his feet and pulls back the curtain.
Huge, glowing eyes stare back at him, and a long claw scrapes against his window.
Izuku can’t help it. He screams.