Chapter Text
In this world, almost every person is born with a power called a quirk. Most children awaken their quirk at the age of four, but in rare cases, a second awakening can occur. Those who survive that second awakening are granted power that feels almost godlike—strength so overwhelming it borders on immortality. But the power is unstable, dangerous, and capable of killing its own user.
The only public hero known to truly control such power was the legendary Shadow Weaver.
“Oh, Katsuki, how did you do it?” little Izuku asked, staring at the fallen bully on the ground and the faint smoke rising from Katsuki’s trembling hand.
“I… I don’t know,” Katsuki whispered, his voice shaking.
Just then, a very familiar figure rushed toward them. Flame Chaser. She must have been called by the sound of the explosion.
“Ah, look at you, my baby. You finally got your quirk—and you used it to save your friend. I am so proud of you, my boy,” Mitsuki said, tears in her eyes as she wiped them away.
Realizing she wasn’t angry, Katsuki smiled brightly. “Yes, I did! It was so big for my small body. It was almost as big as your explosions.”
“Oh, was it now?” Mitsuki muttered, playfully biting his cheek before kneeling down and picking Izuku up too. “Let’s take you home now, Izuku.”
Izuku nodded with a smile. “Does that mean we get to meet All Might now?”
Mitsuki chuckled. “Maybe, if you’re on the good list at Christmas.” She winked.
“Wow… look at all those pro heroes. This must be such a big mission. There are so many heroes I haven’t met,” Izuku said, scanning the area.
“Don’t you already know most of them?” Kirishima asked.
“Not really. I’ve only seen them once… at Katsuki’s funeral. Anyway, I didn’t actually get to know them,” Izuku replied, his smile shrinking.
Kirishima wanted to comfort him, but then he noticed someone behind Izuku. “Isn’t that Flame Chaser?”
Izuku turned quickly. And there she was—the Flame Chaser—walking straight toward them. Kirishima nudged Mina, whose eyes immediately lit up when she saw her.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Bakugo,” Izuku said softly.
“Please, Izuku. I’ve known you since you were a baby. Just because we didn’t talk for a while doesn’t mean you can’t keep calling me Mitsuki,” she replied warmly, ruffling his hair. “What are you kids doing here?”
“We’re here to help with the mission,” Mina answered.
“What mission is this, anyway?” Denki asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“We’re stopping a child trafficking group,” Mitsuki explained, her tone turning cold. “Shouta wanted to handle it himself, but we want the group alive. Death would be too easy for them.”
She continued, “There are probably still children inside. That’s why Shouta brought you—to rescue them. The other pro heroes will arrest the lower members, while Shouta and I go after the leaders.”
“Will we finally see Aizawa-sensei use his god powers?” Mina asked excitedly.
Mitsuki laughed softly. “Oh no, dear. They’re an easy defeat—especially for Shouta.”
“Suki, let’s go!” Aizawa called from the back entrance, waving her over.
Mitsuki nodded. “Be safe, kids,” she said before turning toward him. “Ready?”
“Are you?” he asked in return. She nodded.
“You using fists or your weapon?” Mitsuki asked as they entered the facility.
“Endeavor wants them alive, so… no weapons,” Aizawa muttered, clearly unhappy about listening to him.
“He is the number one hero. We have to listen,” Mitsuki said quietly.
Aizawa rolled his eyes, the memory bitter. A child abuser sitting at the top of hero society.
“You know, if you actually agreed to join the rankings, you could easily become number one and take him down,” Mitsuki added.
“I don’t care about rankings. That’s not what being a hero means to me,” Aizawa replied, jaw tightening. “I became a hero to help people, not to be known. But of course… All For One had to—”
He stopped himself.
Mitsuki understood without him finishing. All For One had made sure Aizawa would be the one to face him. The one destined to take down the legend.
But Aizawa couldn’t do it.
Of course he couldn’t.
No one can drive a sword through their own father’s heart.
The day All For One was finally stopped—the day he was arrested—was the same day Aizawa lost his father.
Inside the facility, chaos unfolded in controlled bursts.
Pro heroes moved like a coordinated storm through the corridors, restraining traffickers, sealing exits, and securing every room with precise efficiency. The air smelled faintly of smoke, metal, and fear—but beneath it all was something hopeful.
The kids were still alive.
That was all that mattered.
The student heroes split into groups to search faster. Mina and Momo hurried down the left corridor, checking every locked room with careful urgency. Izuku, Iida, and Ochako took the central hall, calling out softly so they wouldn’t scare anyone hiding. Kirishima and Denki pushed toward the darker wing of the building, where the lights flickered and the silence felt heavier.
“Man… this place gives me chills,” Denki muttered, rubbing his arms.
Kirishima didn’t answer. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp. Something about this hallway felt… important.
Then they saw it.
A thick metal door at the very end. Locked. No window. No sound coming from inside.
But someone was there.
Kirishima didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and drove his hardened fist straight into the lock. Metal cracked, bolts snapping loose as the door burst open with a loud bang that echoed down the hall.
Inside the room, curled tightly in the corner, was a teenager.
“We found one kid,” Denki said quietly into his earpiece. “Teen male.”
Kirishima stepped inside slowly, lowering his shoulders, trying to look as gentle as someone his size possibly could.
The teen was curled into himself, chin resting on his knees, arms wrapped tight around his body. His hands covered most of his face like he was trying to disappear.
Only his eyes were visible.
Bright. Blood red.
Filled with raw, shaking fear.
For a moment, Kirishima forgot how to breathe. Those eyes almost looked like they were glowing in the dim light.
He took another careful step forward.
The teen flinched hard, his whole body trembling.
Kirishima froze instantly. “Hey… hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. “We’re heroes. You’re safe now.”
As his gaze adjusted, Kirishima noticed something else.
Long blond hair, messy and uneven, falling around the teen’s shoulders.
It looked…
Familiar.
Uncomfortably familiar.
His heart started pounding.
Kirishima slowly knelt down in front of him, keeping his voice as calm as possible. “What’s your name?”
For a long moment, the teen didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even seem to breathe.
Then, slowly—like trust was something fragile he had to build piece by piece—the teen lowered his hands.
Kirishima’s chest tightened.
The boy’s face looked strikingly similar to Mitsuki’s. Same sharp features. Same shape around the eyes. Even with a small cut on his lip and exhaustion written across every inch of him…
There was no mistaking it.
“Can you tell me your name?” Kirishima asked again, voice barely above a whisper.
The teen hesitated… then gave a tiny nod.
No sound came out.
But his lips moved.
K… a… t… s… u… k… i.
Time stopped.
Kirishima felt the world tilt sideways.
Behind him, Denki’s mouth slowly fell open, words completely failing him for once. His hands trembled near his communicator, like he was scared to even say it out loud—because saying it would make it real.
“…Let Flame Chaser know…”
A pause.
“…her son is alive.”