Chapter Text
Life often imitates art, or so they say. I think there’s a give and take to both, to the point where they’re indistinguishable. Life is an art, and it is unique, beautiful, even. My name is Izuku Midoriya, and this is the story of my life and the art it became.
A gentle summer glow peers through an open window, falling on the face of a green-haired child in his bedroom. He’s coloring on a piece of paper with great enthusiasm, wearing down his yellow crayon. He leaps up with a beaming smile, and rushes for the door. “MAMA!” The boy shouts with glee as he races for the kitchen, “LOOK AT MY PICTURE!”
Inko Midoriya turns from the lunch she’d been preparing to her eager 5-year old son with a gentle smile. She comes upon him holding up a simple drawing of 3 people holding hands; Two verdettes, 1 taller with a cute pink triangular dress, long green hair and a circle in the same color on top of her head, and the shorter with green sticking up every which way from his little head and a red shirt, much like the subject himself. The third is a big and tall blonde in red and blue, whose identity should be quite apparent to her, unless she’d been living under a rock. She breaks into an open smile. “Why, Izuku, what a lovely picture of us. And is that-”
“It's All Might, mama!” Izuku yells, lightly bouncing in place with joy.
“It sure is, my little artist. "The mother says with a light chuckle. “You did such a good drawing of him, I’m sure he’d love it! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say a pro artist did this.”
The boy giggles, "Not a pro artist, mama. I’m gonna be a pro hero! Especially once I get my quirk! Then I can give it to him!”
Inko hides a wince at the mention of quirks, but quickly covers it with a smile. “Well, Mr. Hero, we can put it up on the fridge to save for him.” She levitates a magnet out from a drawer and it drops simply into her son’s open palm. He quickly and giddily climbs a nearby step stool, and hangs it up, next to a calendar. The words, "Quirk Appointment”, stand out starkly under the coming Friday, circled in red ink. “Come on, Izu, it's time for lunch, dear. I made your favorite.”
“KATSUDON!? YAYYYY!!”
A few days later, the green-haired family are in the office of a local pediatrician, Dr. Tsubasa. The kindly man sits in front of them with his green spectacles and bushy, graying mustache, and beckons the pair to follow suit. “Tsubasa-sensei,” Inko begins with a frown, “We’re beginning to have concerns about Izuku and his Quirk. Most of his classmates have already manifested theirs.”
“Not a problem, Midoriya-san. I can look into it for you easily.” The elder bellows with a cough. “Midoriya-kun, come with me for a little x-ray, and some small tests.” The doctor and child amble into another room. 25 minutes pass, and the two return, the former holding a black file, a vial of blood, and some papers, the latter now sporting a red, white and blue Band-Aid on his shoulder and light unshed tears rimming his eyes, but holding a strawberry lollipop with a smile. The boy returns to his mother’s side, absentmindedly licking the treat.
“Now Midoriya-san, I have here the results of our tests. If you gaze upon this scan here, you’ll notice the bones in your boy’s foot. Now, if there were reason for alarm, you’d see two joints in little Izuku-kun’s pinky toes. This is the presiding marker for quirklessness among quirk scientists. Luckily for you both, young Izuku possesses only one joint. Your boy has a Quirk.”
The verdettes beam, Izuku vibrating in his seat and Inko with happy tears in the corners of her eyes. “OH BOY, WHAT IS IT?! WHAT IS IT?! WHAT IS IT?!” The child belts out.
“Well, my boy,” the old man caws with a grin, “We aren’t sure yet, but that’s what the blood was for. First, Midoriya-san,”
“Yes?”
“You and the boy’s father both possess 4th generation quirks, yes?”
“That’s correct. I have mild telekinesis, although I’m limited to small objects, and my husband breathes fire.”
“Then that places you both as emitters. And Midoriya-kun’s blood shows markings for him being a particularly strong one as well. That’s where things get tricky. Izuku-kun’s other tests display a mutation from yours and your husband’s. Where your husband would likely possess a higher ambient body temperature and internal lung mutations to support his fire, you should possess higher acute activity along the motor cortex of your brain and the nerves of your hands. A sort of psychic energy extending your field of movement outside your body from your brain.”
“That sounds correct from my knowledge. Where are you going with this, sensei?”
“From these scans, Midoriya-kun possesses acute brain activity and a similar energy to you. But on the entire left lobe of his brain. He also displays the energy along the nerves to his extremities. But it seems unfinished at this moment. The energy may need something external as a trigger. Otherwise, what it’ll do for him is unknowable at this point. Be cautious for signs of it, and be sure to let me know when it manifests. I can assist the two of you in registration.”
Inko listens silently, pausing when she feels a light tug on her blouse. “Yes, Izuku?”
“Does this mean I can become a hero, Mama and Mr. Doctor?” The child asks with a longing gaze somehow beyond his age.
“Oh Izuku, honey, of course you can.”
“My boy, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
The young lad hops up from his chair and cheers. He goes to hug his surprised mother. “I can’t wait to tell Kacchan!”
The mother pats his back and smiles fondly at the thought of her son’s best friend, and her nephew and godchild. The boy is rambunctious and excitable, just like his mother. The burgeoning sparks and pops of the child’s recently developed Explosion quirk, even more so. “I’m sure you’ll get to tell him soon. Make sure to say bye to the nice doctor, sweetheart.” Inko says while getting up.
“Bye bye, Dr. Tuba!” Izuku shouts, butchering the man’s name with nary a drop of malice.
“Yes yes, goodbye, young lad, good luck with your quirk!” The old man says with a cheesy expression as the two Midoriyas close the door on their way out.
… The man’s grin grows cheshire after a few minutes to ensure the pair’s absence. He pulls a nondescript cell phone from his back pocket. He hits the speed dial and not three seconds later, a connection is made. “My lord?”
“Yes, Garaki?” A subtly malevolent voice bellows, like knives in silk.
“I may have found a most interesting emitter for you and your plans, Master.”
“Keep tabs, Doctor. And Garaki?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Check the orphanage for viable subjects for Project Homunculus. That blonde fool has lost sight of me for the time being. Let’s make the most of it. We have to be prepared, for Tomura’s sake.”
“Yes, Master.”