No. 1 Hero: All MightAge: Unknown.Quirk: Unknown.
From the moment he appeared, the world shifted. Crime rates fell. Crowds breathed easier. Even the air seemed steadier when he was around.
He wasn't just admired. He was relied on.
The Symbol of Peace.
And now, that same man stood in front of Izuku Midoriya and said:
"You can become a hero."
The words didn't settle right away.
They lingered, echoing through him.
Old memories surfaced uninvited—laughter in classrooms, sideways glances, voices that had followed him for years.
"You don't even have a Quirk.""Give it up already.""There's no way you can make it."
Those voices had once filled every corner of his thoughts.
Now, they felt distant.
Muted.
Because this voice—this one—cut through all of it.
And then All Might spoke again.
"If it's you… you can inherit my power."
Izuku blinked, thrown off balance.
"…I'm sorry—what?"
All Might studied him for a second, then let out a quiet breath, almost amused.
"That's a fair reaction. But I'm serious. So listen carefully."
He straightened slightly.
"Do you want to inherit my power?"
Izuku didn't answer.
Power?
The word didn't feel real. Not in this moment. Not directed at him.
All Might wiped a trace of blood from his mouth and continued.
"You've probably seen how people describe my Quirk. Super strength. Enhancement. I've let those assumptions stand."
He pushed his hair back, expression sharpening.
"But that's not the truth."
A brief pause.
"My Quirk can be passed on."
Izuku stared at him.
"…Passed on?"
"It's called One For All."
The name settled into the silence between them, heavy with meaning.
"It's a power that grows," All Might said. "One person builds it, then passes it forward. The next person carries it further."
Izuku's thoughts stumbled over themselves.
That wasn't how Quirks worked. They were something you were born with. Fixed. Personal.
And yet—
There was no doubt in front of him.
Only certainty.
"I've been searching for someone to inherit it," All Might said.
He extended his hand.
"And I've chosen you."
Izuku's breath caught.
"Me…?"
"You don't have a Quirk," All Might continued, "but that didn't stop you. You moved. You acted. When it mattered."
The memory surged back—his body moving before he could think, before fear could root him in place.
He had been afraid.
But he had still run forward.
"I'm not offering this lightly," All Might said. "But the choice is yours."
Izuku lowered his head.
There was no long hesitation. No careful weighing of options.
Nothing that could outweigh this moment.
When he looked up again, his eyes were clear.
"I want it."
A smile spread across All Might's face—warm, certain.
"I thought you would."
—
The power wasn't passed on that day.
Not yet.
Izuku needed to build a body that could handle it.
They exchanged contact information before parting, a quiet promise of what would come next.
—
When Izuku returned home, the energy hadn't faded.
It hummed under his skin, restless and bright.
The door opened.
"Welcome back! Happy birthday, Izuku!"
He blinked in surprise.
His mother stood there, holding a cake.
"…Mom? My birthday's not today."
"I know," Inko Midoriya said with a gentle smile. "I just felt like celebrating early."
Izuku paused, then smiled back.
"Thank you."
Dinner passed quietly, comfortably. The kind of evening that didn't need much conversation to feel full.
Inko watched him more than usual.
There was something different about him.
Lighter.
And for the first time in a long while, she let herself relax.
—
Later that night, Izuku sat at his desk, pen moving quickly across paper.
If he was going to inherit that power, he couldn't stay the same.
"I need to build everything up," he murmured. "Strength… endurance… control…"
He adjusted his training plan piece by piece.
More weight. More resistance. Better structure.
By the time he stopped, the night had grown deep and quiet.
He reached for his notebook.
"February 10."
He hesitated, then wrote:
"I met All Might today."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"I'm going to U.A."
He closed the notebook and leaned back, sleep finding him almost instantly.
—
Morning came early.
It always did.
By the time Izuku returned from his run, his clothes were soaked with sweat.
"I'm heading out," he called.
"Be careful," Inko replied from the kitchen.
—
At school, nothing seemed different on the surface.
He still took notes. Still kept to himself.
But something had shifted underneath.
There was intention now.
Every movement had a purpose.
Even during class, his hands stayed active—small, controlled exercises hidden beneath the desk.
At lunch, he finished quickly.
Still hungry.
"…I should ask Mom to pack more."
Later, he reviewed his training again.
Without the knife, he needed a new direction.
He scrolled through his phone, scanning options.
"Hand-to-hand combat…"
He paused, considering.
That felt right.
Practical. Direct. Something he could build on.
"…Yeah. That works."
He stood, decision settling into place.
The rooftop would be quiet.
Perfect for training.
He took a step—then stopped.
"Oh. Right."
A small breath.
"Push-ups first."
And without hesitation, he dropped to the ground and began.