Chapter Text
It starts with joyful laughter. The sound is bright, golden, and full of happiness, echoing through the lush, green park. The laughter mixes with the soft rustling of the leaves above, as if the trees themselves are joining in the fun. The air feels light and fresh, carrying the sounds of kids nearby. You can hear their cheerful voices calling out as they run and play, lost in their own adventures. Over by the swings, a group of children is laughing so loudly that it almost seems like the whole park is alive with excitement. Two small figures, full of energy, race across the huge playground, their tiny feet kicking up soft clouds of dust behind them as they sprint forward. They're not worried about anything except having fun, and their faces are full of pure joy. The sun is shining brightly, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It makes the colors of the park even more beautiful, and everything looks so vibrant and full of life. The sound of the laughter, the rustling leaves, and the distant calls of other kids makes the whole place feel like a perfect, carefree world where nothing can go wrong.
"You're too slow, Izuku!"
Izuku gasps loudly, his breath coming in quick, shaky bursts as he struggles to keep up with his energetic friend. His little legs, chubby and short, pump as fast as they possibly can, but it's no use—he just can't match the speed of his blonde friend ahead of him. Each hurried step he takes makes his wild, untamed curls bounce around his head, bouncing so much that it's almost like they have a life of their own. It's a funny sight that makes Izuku look even more determined as he tries his best to keep up. His arms flail out at his sides, trying to help him keep his balance as he rushes forward. His eyes are locked on the blur of blonde hair in front of him, knowing that if he can just keep up for a little longer, maybe he can catch up. "Kacchan, wait for me!" he whines, his voice full of desperation. His feet trip over themselves as he stumbles, but he's too excited to slow down. His heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration, and every step feels like it's taking all of his energy. The world around them starts to blur together as he focuses completely on his mission to catch up, and he can't help but laugh between breaths.
Bakugo doesn't stop his fast pace—not even for a second. He doesn't even look back over his shoulder to check if Izuku is keeping up. But, in a small, almost unnoticeable change, he does slow down just a little bit. It's just a tiny bit, but enough to give Izuku a chance to catch up. When Izuku finally manages to close the gap between them, his breath coming out in big, tired puffs and his face lit up with a huge grin, as if he had just won some amazing prize, Bakugo can't help but roll his eyes. It's a big, exaggerated roll, and it makes him look even more annoyed than he actually is. "Tch. Took you long enough," Bakugo grumbles, his voice thick with what sounds like irritation. But something about the way he says it, the way his words are a little less sharp than usual, shows that he's not really mad at all. In fact, there's a playful tone to his voice, like he might actually think Izuku's excitement is kind of funny. It's as if, deep down, he's proud of Izuku for keeping up, even if he'd never say it out loud.
Izuku grins widely, his face lighting up with pure joy and excitement, his smile so big that it's almost impossible to miss. Not even the tiniest bit bothered by the fact that Bakugo is still acting tough and pretending to be annoyed, Izuku can't help but feel so happy. His hands are tightly gripping the colorful straps of his All Might-themed backpack, and every little detail on it—the bright colors, the bold design—reminds him of his dreams and everything he's working towards. Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, and his cheeks are flushed with a rosy red from all the running and the chase they had just finished. But it's more than just the physical tiredness he feels; there's a warm, glowing feeling in his chest. It's not from exhaustion, but from being so happy and grateful to be right next to Bakugo, sharing this moment together. For Izuku, being this close to his friend, even if Bakugo acts tough, is the best feeling ever. It's not about winning or losing, or about who's faster—it's about the bond they have, and in that moment, nothing in the world feels more important than the joy of having Bakugo by his side.
The two of them plop down under a big, sprawling tree, which just so happens to be their favorite spot in the huge park that they both love so much. It's the perfect tree—massive and full of shade, with wide branches that stretch out like giant arms, as if the tree is giving them a big, warm hug. The branches reach so far that they create a cool, peaceful spot underneath, the perfect place to sit whenever they need a break. It's always so quiet and calming under that tree, a nice escape from the excitement of their adventurous games. After a long day of pretending to save the world, this tree is where they come to relax, catch their breath, and talk about their next big mission. It's their little secret hideaway, the one place where they can just be themselves and let their imaginations run wild without a care in the world.
In their imaginative little five-year-old minds, that's exactly what they believe is happening. They're not just playing—they're on a real mission. "Okay, so here's the mission!" Izuku announces with way too much excitement, his bright eyes sparkling as he looks around like he's about to save the world. His voice is filled with so much energy that it's impossible not to feel his excitement. "We have to save the entire city! Every single park, all the busy streets, and the nice people who live there! There's a huge villain who's being really mean, and we only have five minutes before the whole city explodes into a million pieces!" He says it like it's the most important thing in the world, his hands waving around as he explains the mission. His face is so serious, but there's a hint of playfulness in his voice because, in their world, this is just as real as anything else. To Izuku, this mission feels like a huge adventure, and he's ready to give everything he's got to make sure they save the day.
Bakugo smirks confidently, puffing out his chest like a true hero, the kind he's certain he's meant to be one day. "Easy," he declares, his voice full of unwavering confidence like nothing could possibly go wrong. "I'll blast 'em all away before the timer even starts!" His words are said with such boldness that it's hard not to believe him. With a burst of excitement, he throws his hands up into the air, moving dramatically like he's already in the middle of the action. He makes exaggerated boom noises with his mouth, pretending to unleash the powerful explosions he hopes his quirk will be. His eyes sparkle with determination, glowing with that fiery energy that Bakugo always seems to have. It's like the whole world around him is buzzing with excitement, as if the air itself can feel his eagerness to show off just how strong he really is. He can practically picture the explosions in his mind, and it makes him grin wider, thrilled by the thought of using his incredible abilities to take on the villain and win.
Izuku watches him with wide, sparkling eyes, his heart swelling with pure admiration and awe. "Whoa, Kacchan! That was so cool!" he says, his voice filled with excitement and wonder as he watches his friend's confident display. He can't help but be impressed—everything Bakugo does seems so powerful and awesome to him. Bakugo can't hide the proud grin that spreads across his face when he hears Izuku's praise. It's something he loves, something that always makes him feel even stronger. He enjoys winning, he loves being the best, and there's no greater feeling than knowing that Izuku thinks he's truly amazing. And it's not just words to Izuku—he really does think Bakugo is awesome, more than anyone else could ever know. That's how it's always been for them, and Izuku feels it deep in his heart. It's not just about the fun of playing or the thrill of competition—it's about the bond they share. It's the two of them standing side by side, facing the world together. No matter what comes their way, their friendship is built on something more than just rivalry. It's a bond that goes beyond the ordinary, forged through respect, trust, and shared experiences.
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One sunny day at school, something amazing happens that Bakugo has been dreaming about for as long as he can remember. It's a big moment—a moment he's been waiting for since he was a little kid. His quirk, the one he's always wanted, finally shows up. And just like he always imagined, it's explosions. The air around him crackles as fiery red and orange sparks burst from his hands, flying in all directions like little fireworks. It's incredible! His teachers and classmates stare wide-eyed in disbelief, not sure if what they're seeing is real. But Izuku, who's standing nearby, is practically bouncing with excitement. His eyes are wide with admiration and joy. "Wow, Kacchan! This is amazing! Your quirk is so cool! I hope that when I finally get mine, it'll be just as awesome and powerful as yours!" Izuku says, his voice full of genuine support and awe for his friend. Bakugo, of course, can't help but laugh a little, his usual cocky grin appearing as he looks at Izuku. "Don't get too cocky, Izuku! Your quirk is probably gonna be lame and stupid!" His words come out teasingly, but it's clear that they're part of their usual friendly rivalry, the one that's always been a part of their relationship. Then, one of the teachers, watching with pride, says, "You're going to be an incredible hero, Bakugo! I can already see the potential in you!" Bakugo, with all the confidence a young boy could have, just nods, his eyes sparkling with the certainty of his own future. "I already know that," he says, his voice full of belief in his own abilities. For Bakugo, this is just the beginning, the start of an exciting new chapter filled with challenges, opportunities, and the chance to prove just how strong he really is. The day is one he'll never forget, and it marks the first step on his path toward becoming the hero he's always known he would be.
Izuku waits and waits, his heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Every day, he hopes that his quirk will finally appear, just like all of his friends and classmates have experienced. His mind fills with thoughts of what his quirk could be, imagining how it would change his life and make him special. But the days stretch into weeks, and with each passing day, Izuku's eagerness grows, but so does a deep sense of worry. The other kids around him are already discovering their powers, and he feels left behind, like he's missing out on something that everyone else has. Finally, a week before his sixth birthday, the big moment arrives. It should be a time of celebration, full of excitement, but instead, Izuku feels a wave of uncertainty wash over him when his mother, Inko, takes him to the doctor for a routine checkup. This should be an ordinary visit, but Izuku's heart beats louder and louder as he wonders if this is the moment he's been waiting for.
The doctor's office is cold, and the walls feel too quiet. When the doctor finally turns to him, his expression is blank, detached, like he's reading off a piece of paper without really thinking about it. The words that come out of his mouth hit Izuku like a punch in the stomach. "Sorry, kid, but it ain't happening." There's no sympathy in the doctor's voice, no understanding of the weight those words carry. Izuku feels a sudden, freezing shock run through him. His world feels like it's spinning, and the air around him feels heavy, suffocating. Everything he had dreamed about—becoming a hero like All Might, saving people, being powerful and respected—seems to slip through his fingers in an instant. For a moment, he can't breathe, and it feels like his heart has stopped. He had hoped, wished, and prayed for his quirk to come, but now it feels like those dreams are shattered, like the foundation he had built his life on is crumbling.
Inko, his loving mother, feels the weight of her son's despair. Her head hangs low, her heart breaking for him. She can't fully understand the pain Izuku is feeling, but she can see it in his tear-filled eyes. Izuku, unable to hold back the flood of emotions inside, starts to cry. He clutches his All Might figurine tightly in his hand, its golden smile a sharp contrast to the sadness that fills his heart. All Might had always been his hero—the symbol of hope, strength, and joy—and now, that dream feels far away. Izuku wonders if he'll ever be able to live up to the image of the hero he's always admired. Doubt creeps into his mind, and he wonders if that dream will ever come true, or if he'll be left behind, stuck in a world where only the powerful and quirked people matter.
Later that night, the room was filled with a quiet hum from the computer, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the walls adorned with posters of All Might, Izuku's greatest hero, and action figures that stood proudly as silent reminders of his dreams. The room felt like a sanctuary—a place where Izuku could escape from the crushing reality of his quirkless situation. He sat hunched over in his chair, eyes glued to the screen as All Might's bright smile filled the frame, delivering words of wisdom and inspiration. But tonight, it wasn't just the excitement of his hero's message that gripped Izuku. As he watched All Might's unrelenting commitment to saving others and protecting those in need, tears welled up in his eyes. They slid down his cheeks, each drop heavy with the weight of his longing, his dreams that now felt out of reach. The admiration for his idol ran deep, but it was accompanied by a feeling of loss, a fear that he would never be able to live up to the legacy of heroes like him.
As the sound of the door creaked open, Izuku's thoughts were broken. He quickly turned around in his chair, blinking the tears away as he looked at his mother. Inko stood in the doorway, her presence gentle but full of the same sadness that was reflected in Izuku's eyes. She hadn't even had to ask; she could already tell what her son was feeling. With a sigh, Izuku turned back to the screen and, without thinking, pointed at the glowing image of All Might. His voice, soft and fragile, cut through the quiet room, trembling with a hope he wasn't sure could be fulfilled. "Do you think... I can still be a hero?" His question, pure and unguarded, hung in the air like a fragile thread, each word a mix of deep longing and quiet desperation.
Inko's heart shattered at the sound of his voice—so small, so vulnerable. She immediately moved to his side, sinking to her knees in front of him, tears now freely streaming down her face. She reached out, her hands trembling as she pulled him into a tight embrace, her own pain echoing in her chest. "I'm so sorry, Izuku," she whispered through her tears, her voice thick with grief. She nuzzled her forehead against his shoulder, trying to offer him comfort, trying to share some of the weight of the sorrow she saw in his eyes.
But Izuku's heart was still heavy with uncertainty. As much as he felt his mother's love, the words she spoke weren't what he needed to hear. Pity, as much as she meant well, felt like a cold blanket wrapping around him, suffocating his spirit even more. He had never wanted anyone to feel sorry for him; he didn't need pity. What he needed was someone to believe in him—someone to tell him that, despite everything, he could still be a hero.
Izuku felt his heart pounding in his chest, like a drumbeat that wouldn't stop. His hands were sweaty, and his stomach twisted into knots as he thought about telling Bakugo the secret that had been eating him up inside. He had always admired Bakugo, looked up to him even, because Bakugo was strong, confident, and always seemed so sure of himself. But Izuku wasn't like that. He didn't have a quirk. And that was a big deal in their world. Everyone was supposed to have a quirk by the time they turned five. Everyone except him.
Izuku had spent so many nights lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, wondering why he was different. He was so scared that if Bakugo found out the truth, it would ruin their friendship. Bakugo was always so loud and proud of his own quirk, his explosions shaking the air around him. He never would understand how it felt to have nothing, to have no special power like everyone else. But even though Izuku tried his best to hide it, that fear, that anxiety, kept gnawing at him, making him feel like he was carrying around this huge secret all by himself. He was terrified that if Bakugo knew, he'd think he was weak or worthless.
But then, one sunny day, Bakugo showed up at school like he always did, loud and full of energy, calling out to Izuku from across the playground. "Izuku! Hey, Izuku!" Bakugo yelled, his voice echoing in the air. He waved his hand like he was trying to get Izuku's attention from miles away. "Happy birthday! I'm so excited to come over to your house later and eat that awesome All Might cake your mom made just for you!" Bakugo's grin was huge, his excitement contagious, and Izuku couldn't help but smile back, even though his stomach was still tight with nervousness.
"Thanks, Kacchan! I'm excited to eat it too," Izuku said, trying his best to sound cheerful, even though inside, his nerves were a mess. He was glad Bakugo was happy for him, but a part of him was still anxious. That anxiety grew bigger when Bakugo suddenly said, "Hey... you should've gotten your quirk by now! Everyone gets their quirk when they turn five! Can you show me what yours is?"
Izuku's heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting for this moment, the moment when Bakugo would ask. His mouth felt dry, and his words got stuck in his throat. He opened and closed his hands, trying to summon something, anything, but nothing happened. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. His mind raced as he scrambled for a way out, but nothing came to him. He felt his face heat up with embarrassment.
"Ummm..." Izuku started, his voice shaking slightly as he tried to make something happen. He twisted his hands, hoping that maybe—just maybe—his quirk would suddenly show up. But still, nothing. His hands were empty.
"Wait, don't tell me you're quirkless!" Bakugo exclaimed, his voice rising, full of disbelief. Izuku's stomach dropped. He had been trying to keep it a secret for so long, but now, here it was, right out in the open. The words he had feared most were out in the world.
Bakugo, being Bakugo, didn't hold back. In a flash, he shouted over to his friends, his "minions," as Izuku often called them, and they rushed over, eager to see what was going on. "Izuku's quirkless, that means he has no quirk!" Bakugo shouted loudly, his voice booming across the playground. Izuku's face went pale, and his heart sank into his stomach. The words hit him like a punch in the gut, and for a second, he could hardly breathe.
One of Bakugo's friends, the one who was always quick to follow his lead, laughed mockingly. "That's so dumb! You should've never been friends with that loser!" His voice was filled with a nasty kind of surprise, as though the idea of someone being quirkless was just too unbelievable to even fathom. The others snickered, joining in with their teasing laughter. The sound echoed around Izuku, drowning out everything else. His face burned with humiliation, and he felt his legs go weak beneath him.
Izuku stood there, frozen, as if the ground had turned to quicksand beneath his feet. The world around him felt like it was spinning out of control. The place that had always felt safe—the playground, the spot where he'd laughed with Bakugo and imagined being heroes together—was suddenly not so safe anymore. His mind raced, and his heart ached as he stood there, exposed, trying to find a way to make the words stop. He had never felt so small. So insignificant.
In that moment, it wasn't just the sting of being quirkless that hurt. It was the fear of losing the one person he had always counted on, the one person who had always been there. But now, with Bakugo's loud declaration, everything felt uncertain. He didn't know if he could fix this, or if their friendship could survive the truth he had been hiding for so long.
Izuku's heart raced, his breath coming in quick, panicked gasps as the sound of Bakugo and his minions' laughter filled the air. The world around him blurred as his mind struggled to make sense of what was happening. He had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. The sting of the words "quirkless" still echoed in his ears, but now the physical pain of the rocks striking him added another layer of hurt. He tried to shield his face with his arms, but there were too many rocks flying at him from every direction, too fast for him to block.
The jagged stones hit his arms, his legs, his sides—each impact a cruel reminder that he was different, that he was unworthy. His body trembled with each hit, his breath catching in his throat as tears blurred his vision. But it wasn't just the pain of the rocks that hurt—it was the weight of the betrayal. His best friend, the one person he had always trusted, was the one leading the attack. Bakugo, the one person he had looked up to, was the one causing all this pain.
Izuku curled up tightly on the ground, his body instinctively trying to protect itself from the assault. He sobbed uncontrollably, the tears falling from his eyes as if they had no end. His chest tightened with each painful breath, and he could barely see through the haze of tears that clouded his vision. It was like the ground beneath him had cracked open, swallowing him whole.
"Kacchan... please..." Izuku whispered between sobs, his voice barely audible. He didn't even know if Bakugo could hear him over the sound of his own laughter and the cruel taunts of his minions.
He had always thought they were friends—partners in this dream of becoming heroes together. But now, with the stones pummeling him, he wondered if he had ever truly been more than a stepping stone for Bakugo's own ambitions. Maybe he was just the fool who had trusted too easily.
Through the blurry mess of his tears and the pain, Izuku heard Bakugo's voice again, but it wasn't the loud, excited tone he was used to. There was something different in it now—something rougher. "Get up, Izuku!" Bakugo shouted. "Quit crying like a damn baby!"
But the words felt like daggers to Izuku's already broken heart. He wanted to get up, to prove he was strong enough, but his body ached so much, and his chest felt like it was being crushed by the weight of the betrayal. Was this the end? Was this where his friendship with Bakugo fell apart?
He lay there, shaking, tears still falling, as the sound of Bakugo's laughter grew quieter, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to hang in the air. And in that silence, all Izuku could hear was the thudding of his own heart, pounding painfully in his chest, as if it, too, was breaking apart.
Bakugo didn't go to Izuku's birthday party that day.