Chapter Text
Not everyone started out the same.
In a world where quirks defined everything, that became obvious fast. Some people were born with abilities strong enough to make headlines—powers that drew attention the moment they appeared. Others weren’t so lucky, left to watch from the sidelines as the gap between them and everyone else kept growing.
It wasn’t fair. It never had been.
But that didn’t stop people from dreaming.
Some dreams, though, didn’t look like they were supposed to.
Because being a hero was never about what you were given—it was about what you chose to do with it.
It was a normal day. Nothing special about it.
Two teens moved through the busy city streets, weaving between crowds on their way to school. The city buzzed around them—cars passing, people talking, the constant hum of life—but between the two of them, things felt calm.
Easy.
They were just enjoying each other’s company.
That was, until they passed a building.
A crowd had gathered ahead.
And beyond it—
“Wow! A giant villain!”
Izuku stopped immediately, eyes lighting up as he pushed toward the front.
Izuku didn’t stand out at first glance.
Average height. Messy dark green hair that never quite stayed in place. Bright eyes—too bright, sometimes—constantly moving, taking everything in faster than he could write it down.
There was an energy to him. Restless. Curious. Like the world was something to be studied, not just lived in.
And despite everything—
He looked like he believed in it. All of it.
His friend followed a step behind—close enough to keep him in reach, even in a crowd like this.
They stood out, even here.
Tall. Extremely pale. Their clouded gray eyes glowed faintly, giving the impression of blindness despite their near-perfect vision. Faint scars traced along their face and mouth—subtle, but noticeable if you looked closely.
And their hair—
No one could ever agree on its color. Mint. Seafoam green. Sometimes even violet, depending on the light.
Whatever it was, it drew attention.
Sometimes curiosity.
Sometimes fear.
A police line stretched across the street ahead.
Beyond it, a massive villain swung wildly at a figure standing atop a nearby building.
“GET AWAY!” the villain roared.
He slammed down onto the bridge below.
The structure gave way instantly.
Concrete shattered with a deafening crack, and a wave of dust blasted outward, forcing the crowd to duck.
“Who’s fighting him?” Izuku asked, practically bouncing on his heels.
Setto watched the villain’s movements carefully—not with fear, but with something quieter.
Understanding came easier than it probably should have.
“I don’t remember their name,” Setto said, squinting. “They seem new.”
The villain threw another punch, smashing into the building. The hero leapt aside just in time, landing on the next rooftop.
“Illegal use of abilities during rush hour, robbery, and assault?” the hero called out. “You are the incarnation of evil.”
Wood burst from his arms.
Branches twisted and expanded, growing thicker—longer—until they resembled massive tree limbs.
Izuku gasped.
“It’s Kamui Woods!”
Recognition clicked for Setto. “Cool. But we’ve gotta go—we can’t be late.”
“But look!” Izuku cut in. “It’s about to happen! His preemptive binding—”
“Lacquered Chain Prison!”
Izuku and the hero finished in unison.
Kamui Woods pulled his arms back—
Then launched them forward.
The wooden limbs shot across the street, extending rapidly toward the villain—
The villain raised his arms—
The way the bindings snapped into place—clean, controlled—felt almost unnatural.
Setto couldn’t help but notice how easily that kind of power decided who was right.
THUMP. THUMP.
Heavy footsteps echoed behind him.
“CANYON CANNON!”
A massive foot slammed into the back of the villain’s head.
The impact snapped his body forward. His face crashed into the building with a thunderous crack.
The street shook.
Dust exploded into the air.
And behind him—
A towering figure straightened.
She turned toward the crowd, smiling brightly as cameras immediately began to flash.
“Hi everyone! I’m Mt. Lady! Pleased to meet you on my debut day!”
Setto’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Another pro? He had it handled…”
“Gigantification…” Izuku muttered, already pulling out a notebook. “A common quirk, but it can be strong…”
Setto glanced at the notebook.
“Where did you—”
They stopped themself, shaking their head. “Never mind. Notes later. We need to get to school.”
Setto didn’t look at the page.
They didn’t need to.
Izuku always filled it with things worth remembering.
They paused, then smirked faintly.
“Know any quirks that could get us there faster?”
“Public quirk usage is illegal,” Izuku said flatly, not even looking up.
Setto rolled their eyes, though a small smile slipped through. “I was kidding. Now c’mon—we’re actually going to be late.”
They grabbed his hand without thinking—like it was the most natural thing in the world—and took off running.
They still arrived five minutes late.
No one in the class cared.
Except the teacher.
And, as usual, that meant Izuku got the blame.
Setto didn’t say anything.
They just remembered it.
Math class was as boring as ever.
Nothing else really happened.
A few hours later, their teacher returned, a stack of papers in hand. He dropped them onto his desk with a loud thump, startling the class into silence.
“You’re all third-years now,” he began. “It’s time to start thinking about your futures.”
He paused.
Then smirked.
“Now, I could hand these out…”
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the papers into the air.
“But I already know.”
They scattered across the room.
“You all want to be heroes!”
“YEAHH!!”
The class erupted. Quirks activated. Papers flew. Noise filled the room instantly.
“Don’t lump me in with these losers!”
The shout cut through everything.
Bakugou didn’t need an introduction.
Spiky ash-blond hair. Sharp red eyes that always seemed to be looking down on something—or someone. His posture alone carried the kind of confidence most people had to fake.
There was nothing subtle about him.
Everything—from the way he stood to the way his quirk crackled in his palms—felt like it was daring the world to challenge him.
And worse—
He usually won.
Bakugou stood on his desk, glaring around the room as small explosions cracked from his palms.
“Shut up! You extras should behave like what you are!”
The teacher sighed. “Bakugou… you’re aiming for U.A., right?”
“The national school?” someone said. “Isn’t the cutoff super high?”
“They barely accept anyone!”
The room spiraled into chatter.
Setto, Izuku, and Bakugou stayed quiet.
Until—
“Listen up,” Bakugou snapped. “I’m the only one here strong enough for U.A.! I’ll surpass All Might and become the strongest hero!”
The teacher smirked, glancing lazily at Izuku.
“Oh yeah… Midoriya. Didn’t you want to apply too?”
Silence fell.
“Deku?!”
Bakugou moved instantly.
Explosions cracked against Izuku’s desk, forcing him backward until he hit the wall.
“You think you can stand with me?!” Bakugou snarled. “You don’t even have a quirk!”
“I—I wasn’t saying that!” Izuku stammered, raising his hands. “It’s just… I’ve always wanted to be a hero, and I thought… maybe there was no harm in trying…”
A low hissing sound filled the room.
At first, barely noticeable.
Then—
Mist began to spread.
It poured across the floor, glowing faintly blue-green as it crept between desks. It curled around legs, climbed the walls, and thickened in the air.
The temperature dropped.
A few students shivered.
They didn’t like this feeling.
Not the anger—
The certainty.
“TRY?” Bakugou snapped. “Try what?! The entrance exam?!”
The mist thickened behind him.
Cold.
Heavy.
Watching.
“Why are you protecting him?!” Bakugou snapped, turning—
Straight into the fog.
The hissing stopped.
The room was completely filled.
For a moment, the room felt like it belonged to them.
That was the part that bothered them most.
Setto’s voice cut through it—calm. Even.
“Why are you attacking my friend for wanting to follow his dream?”
A pause.
“Or does it only matter now that the ‘quirkless kid’ said it out loud?”
Bakugou scoffed. “You think you can pass too? You’re nothing but a creepy smoke machine!”
A flash of light—an explosion—
For a split second, it illuminated Setto’s face.
Pale.
Still.
Unnervingly calm.
The teacher finally intervened. “That’s enough. Someone open a window.”
Fresh air rushed in. The mist slowly began to thin.
“And the rest of you—back to your seats.”