IZUKU IS A BOY MADE OF BRIGHTLY COLORED BAND-AIDS AND WISHES ON STARS LONG FORGOTTEN.

His hands are smudged with pencil lead and streaks of ink, his knees purple and pink with bruises and concrete scrapes. He has stars in his eyes and a sunshine smile and freckles that sweep across his olive skin like splatter paint art.

Izuku is only six years old, but he already knows what he wants to do with his life.

He wants to make people feel warm and loved, the way his mother does when she puts on a record and spins him around the room until they splay out on the floor in fits of giggles, the smell of katsudon wafting in from the kitchen.

He wants to give them hope, the way his father does when he helps Izuku fill up a notebook all about heroes and tells him that he isn't useless or stupid or worthless like everyone else says.

But most of all, Izuku wants to save people.

He doesn't really care how. He'd like to be a hero, but everyone says that's a foolish dream ("It's not," his father says, wiping his tears away with a thumb before kissing the top of his head. "Don't ever believe them, not for a second.") and that he'll always be too weak and fragile. But that's okay. Izuku doesn't need to be like All Might to save people.

Of course, he loves All Might. He loves a lot of heroes, actually, save for the ones that are mean and brutish and more likely to hurt victims than help them. All Might is the most amazing hero there is, because he always tries to save everyone no matter what, always with a smile on his face.

But heroes don't always get there in time. Sometimes, depending on where you live and what your Quirk is, they choose not to help at all. He's not supposed to know this, being a child, but his parents discuss it often when they think he's asleep.

He's not supposed to know a lot of things. Like the fact that his father is a hero, too. Just not the normal kind.

Izuku sees it in the long scar across his father's eyebrow and the ones that litter his forearms. He sees it in the slight edge the man always sits on, how his eyes constantly check their surroundings and his fingers twitch when someone comes up behind them on the street. He sees it in the happy tears of the homeless woman around the corner when his father brings her warm blankets and food, and the surprised awe of weaker victims when the man swiftly ends fights in alleys.

Hisashi Midoriya is not a hero. But he is a hero. To Izuku and everyone else he's ever helped.

Izuku is only six years old, but he knows that once his late-blooming Quirk develops, he'll do his best to be just like his father, his hero.

―――

His Quirk doesn't come in.

―――

The world as he knows it goes topsy-turvy a month after Izuku turns eight.

He sits on the steps of their home, watching the friendly men from the rental service haul an armchair into the back of a truck. Boxes are scattered around the lawn. The one next to him holds all of his All Might comics and posters, and he has another box with all of his figurines and toys. His notebooks have a box all to themselves, and his father already put them with the "valuables" stack.

Izuku wishes he could do more to help. It makes him feel useless (worthless, stupid), just sitting here while everyone else does all the hard work. The adults all told him to carry what he could and leave the rest to them.

After all, it's hard to move furniture with a broken arm.

A shadow falls over him. "You ready to go, kiddo?" His father kneels beside him and ruffles his hair. "We've got everything else packed up and in the truck. Anything else you need?" Izuku thinks long and hard, flashing through his mental checklist of all the stuff he boxed up the night before. He shakes his head. "Alright. Do you ..." Hisashi coughs into his hand, smoke curling around his knuckles. "Do you want to say goodbye to Katsuki first?"

Izuku looks down at his cast, clean and white and void of signatures. "No," he hears himself say. "I don't think I want to."

"That's okay, Izuku." Hisashi pulls him to his feet and lifts both of the boxes. They start towards their car, where his mother is already filling up the trunk. "That just means we have extra time to stop and get ice cream on our way." He winks and grins.

As the car pulls out of the driveway, Izuku tugs the seatbelt to make it looser and spreads out his map. His parents said Hosu City isn't too far away from Musutafu. Not like he could argue, he doesn't know much about geography. But apparently his father has a lot of friends there and knows his way around.

("Is it because you were a hero there, too?" he asks absentmindedly as they watch a YouTube compilation of Ingenium and Manuel saving kittens.

Hisashi stiffens, blinking, before letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah. I was." Izuku stares at him. "I still am.")

Maybe, just maybe, this will be okay.

surprise!

do i have any idea what i'm doing? no. is that okay? yes <3

the first half was written during our annual trip to my grandpa's (who lives five hours away) this past labor day weekend, and the other half was just going with the flow. tbh if i wasn't in quarantine i might not have gotten this posted.

no editing we die like men.

so anyway! i'm gonna mess around with canon and you're going to enjoy it, my way or the highway or whatever it is the young folk say. canon is merely clay and i'm the one at the potter's wheel.

also i have been/will be updating the playlist as i write/plan this, so if you have any song recs that you think would fit lmk.

mwah <3