Quirkless
Incompetent.
Underdeveloped.
Inferior.
Unworthy.
These words have haunted me all my life. I truly feel incompetent, just as many have said. In an age of quirks, those without one are seen as lesser. But it wasn't always this way. When the first "zero" patient was documented in the city of Qing Qing in China, a new era of human history began. It was unprecedented; people didn't understand what was happening. And soon after, quirks were seen as a curse.
In the early years, those with quirks were persecuted — labeled heretics and bringers of misfortune. Then came chaos, destruction, and the collapse of order — an era known as the "Dark Age of Quirks." It lasted for decades. People had hoped the government would protect them, but that was a mistake. Trust eroded. No one could be relied upon — not even oneself — for no one knew if or when a quirk might suddenly awaken. In a world where quirks were feared, getting one was seen as a death sentence.
Humanity fears what it does not understand. It lashes out. People revealed their most animalistic natures, slaughtering those with quirks. The gifted had no choice but to defend themselves. But as time passed, their numbers grew — and with them, the realization that this phenomenon was not a curse but perhaps a gift. And just like that, the world turned upside down.
In the Present Day
"Happy Birthday, Izuku!"
A slender green-haired woman wearing a pink apron called out, her voice full of love. She was the very definition of maternal warmth, and to me, she was the best person in the world.
"The father who was supposed to raise me never kept his promise."
But let's start from the beginning.
Izuku Midoriya is just a boy. Four years old, innocent and full of dreams — like becoming a professional hero, just like all the other kids his age. At four, children typically begin to manifest their quirks, inherited from their parents or family line. His mother worried about how much time he spent watching news segments on All Might, the symbol of peace in Japan.
He adored All Might so much that he mimicked his catchphrases, his techniques, even his signature laugh. It made his mother smile. After all, what could be better than seeing your son shine like the sun, filled with heroic energy and joy?
"Oh, my little hero, come here and give me a hug!"
She set her cooking aside to lift Izuku into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her neck and smiled brightly.
"But Mom, I'm not little anymore! I'm a big kid now!"
He pouted playfully. She chuckled and ruffled his messy green hair.
"Izuku, even when you grow up, you'll always be my sweet little boy."
Her words filled his heart with warmth, and he hugged her tightly — so tightly that they both forgot about the food burning on the stove.
"MOM! THE FOOD IS BURNING!"
Panic set in. She rushed to the stove, trying to salvage dinner.
"Izuku, open the window! Looks like the food is ruined."
Feeling guilty, Izuku apologized.
"I'm sorry, Mom! I didn't mean to! Now we don't even have dinner because of me."
Tears welled in his eyes. His mother, seeing this, approached him and gently stroked his hair.
"Izuku, look at me."
He met her warm gaze.
"It's okay. Don't be so hard on yourself. Heroes make mistakes too."
Her words soothed him, though a troubling thought lingered in his mind:
"Even All Might made mistakes?"
He asked in a trembling voice, unsure if he could believe it. He was even wearing a homemade costume of All Might's bronze age outfit, complete with a yellow cape.
"Yes, Izuku. Even All Might had a rough start. He's brave and cheerful — just like you."
Izuku wiped his tears and smiled.
"Don't worry, Mom! I'll protect you from everything! You're the best mom in the whole world!"
He shouted in his best All Might impression, making her laugh.
"So, what are we eating now?"
His stomach growled, and she smiled, picking up the phone.
"We'll order pizza. Not just one — two!"
Izuku's eyes lit up. As she ordered, he hugged her leg, beaming with joy. While they waited, they played games together.
But Inko was worried. Tomorrow was Izuku's quirk evaluation, and his father wouldn't be there.
---
Hizashi was a hardworking man — perhaps too hardworking. He was terrified that Izuku wouldn't remember him as a real father. When Izuku was born, Hizashi cried tears of joy. But something changed in his eyes that day — a quiet coldness took hold.
For the first year, he was present. Izuku's first sight in this world was his father's face. But on Izuku's second birthday, he broke devastating news to Inko.
"Inko, I have to leave... our financial situation is getting worse. If I don't act, our son's future is in danger."
After putting Izuku to bed, Inko quietly followed him into the hallway. Her eyes filled with tears.
"But Hizashi… Izuku needs you. I need you. Please don't leave us."
He embraced her. He didn't want to leave, but he had no choice. The weight of being a provider was heavy.
"I'll send money. I don't know when I'll be back. But I'm doing this for you both. Forgive me."
A tear fell from his eye. She hugged him tightly, as if never wanting to let go.
"Promise you'll come back. Promise you won't leave Izuku alone."
"I swear on my life."
The next morning, the family had a lavish breakfast. Izuku thought it was someone's birthday. Inko took pictures of father and son — two peas in a pod, as she said with bittersweet joy.
After breakfast, Hizashi packed his things. Outside, the sky was gray. Inko and Izuku saw him off at the door.
"Come back soon, we'll be waiting," Inko said.
"Yeah! And we'll play together again!" Izuku added cheerfully.
Hizashi smiled with tears in his eyes. He hugged Izuku tightly, ruffled his hair, then turned to Inko. She wasn't a supermodel, but to him, she was beautiful — the kind of beauty that comes from a pure heart. He kissed her goodbye, then stepped out the door.
The moment he did, his hair turned snow-white. His face shifted. He looked like Hizashi — but he wasn't. The man known as All For One had taken his place.