Chapter Text
“You should probably give it up ... He doesn’t have a quirk.”
Those words were all Izuku could think of. Mom had been so quiet on the drive home that only those words filled the silence in his head. He couldn’t understand. All the other kids had quirks. Some had even minor quirks like big noses or grabbable eyeballs, but they were quirks. They were something. He had . . . nothing?
When the pair finally got home, there were shoes at the door that neither Midoriya had seen in months.
“Home at last.” Hisashi smiled, gathering his family into his large arms. “It has been too long. Have you missed me much?”
The sight of the white-haired father of the Midoriya house was normally a happy one. There was always a lot of food, laughter, games. It had been months since Izuku’s father had been home from his overseas job, so it should be a big celebration. But Izuku looked at his father, a father with such a cool fire quirk, and started to cry.
“Izuku?”
“Daddy, I’m sorry!” Izuku cried into his father’s suit. “I’m sorry!”
His father’s warm hand was big, nearly cupping his body as he pulled him close. “Izuku, why are you sorry? Did something happen at school today?”
“Izuku, sweetheart,” Inko tried to sound comforting, but Izuku knew she was crying too, “it’s alright.”
When Izuku wouldn’t come out or stop crying, Inko turned to Hisashi. He was waiting patiently, cradling their child, and Inko loved that about him. Nothing she or Izuku did phased him. Hisashi was calm, understanding, caring—he would always wait for an explanation before moving forward. His blue eyes were always a calm sea she could find safe harbour in.
But now, now she was crying right along with her son. “Hisashi, we just came from the doctor’s office, about Izuku’s quirk . . . he doesn’t have one.”
Hisashi’s rough voice hummed in understanding, but Inko just couldn’t believe it; Hisashi didn’t seem to care. He just scooped up Izuku in his arms and held him tight against his chest. “Come now, Izuku, is not having a quirk so bad?”
“Can I still be a hero?” Izuku begged, bright green eyes looking up at him with glinting tears and the promise of more. Those were eyes that told him everything in Izuku’s world hinged upon his answer. “Can I still be like All Might without a quirk?”
Hisashi smiled and nuzzled his son’s little face, ignoring the tears that followed. “Oh, Izuku, you’ll be even better than All Might. Trust me. You’ll be the best hero.”
Inko’s confused face was ignored in favour of attending to his son. Dinner was already made, so the family ate together, the dishes were washed, and, after watching some television together, the overwrought Izuku was brought to bed by his father.
Izuku watched as his father closed the door to his room and frowned tiredly. “Dad?”
“Izuku, I have a secret to tell you,” the man said, sitting both of them on Izuku’s small bed. “Can you keep a secret? Even from mom?”
Izuku nodded furiously.
“My brother was thought to be quirkless.” Izuku was giving him his full, rapt attention. “But, even if people think you’re quirkless, that doesn’t mean you really are. He developed a quirk when he was in his twenties. It was an extremely powerful quirk too, a transferable stockpile quirk capable of becoming a great hero power. He was actually just like you.”
“Huh?” Izuku stood on his father’s knees to try and look at his dad in the eyes. “But, Dr. Tsubasa said . . .”
“Ah, well, I know things that doctor does not,” his father whispered to him. “In fact, I have a quirk that tells me that you have one too.”
That made Izuku giggle. “Daddy, you’re being silly. You breathe fire!”
Hisashi chuckled some but his white hair fluffed up as he shook his head. “Well, yes, you’re right, Izuku, but I don’t just have that quirk; I have many quirks.”
“But daddy, you can only have one!”
Hisashi scooped up his son into his arms and held him close. “My quirk is only one quirk, but it lets me have many at my disposal. Izuku, listen closely . . .” Hisashi’s lips went close to Izuku’s ear, promising not even Inko would hear if she walked in. “I can take quirks.”
Izuku pulled back, eyes filled with wonder. “You can? And you use them too?”
“Yes, they become mine in every way that matters,” assured Hisashi. “I can always give them back or give them away, but the main part of my quirk is taking them and stockpiling them.”
“Coool!!!”
Midoriya Hisashi—alias: All for One, real name: Shigaraki Takeshi— was smiling as he looked down at his excitable son jackhammering into his legs with all the excited jumping. His four-year-old was the most energetic bunny on the planet, and no other could compare. Better, though, was that his son had a quirk that rest just under the surface, that no one could copy or take. Not even him.
He could feel the smoky miasma of his quirk, lighter with just a taste of his mother, waiting in the child, waiting to pull in any quirks it touched, but unable to be grasped by his own smoky quirk in return.
The challenge that rested under his son’s skin was exciting; what were the limits? What were the qualifiers? How had Inko’s quirk coloured his, how competent would it be? Could he take quirks from Izuku once he had them, or would they be forever lost in the miasma of his son? He would be careful until he knew the answer, but the puzzle was there in front of him waiting to be solved.
And now, thanks to his resourceful friend Kyudai, he had the time to explore it without Inko ever having to know. After all, if she believed the boy was quirkless then he would keep her thinking that for at least a few years, if he managed to keep the boy discreet. But first . . .
“Izuku, I want to try something, alright?” Izuku, the trusting soul, beamed up at his father with a winning smile. “Close your eyes. Tell me what you feel.”
There were a million quirks to choose from—actually, only 5348, still a significant number—but All for One had chosen a quirk for his son many months ago. A subtle one that Inko would never notice. He held the quirk right against Izuku’s skin, touching his quirk gently with it. And … perfect, the quirk was sucked right into the miasma. He looked for the quirk, but it was gone within the smoke. Even his quirk couldn’t tell what quirk Izuku had in his depths. Perfect.
“Dad, I felt something!” Izuku couldn’t help but open his eyes then, and the green orbs glittered. “Dad, I felt my whole body jump! Did you use a quirk?”
“Perhaps,” he teased. “Tell me, what do you think the quirk was?”
“Oh, it was about sunlight,” answered his boy, very confidently, then, more confusedly, “and it had to do with my hair?”
All for One was so terribly proud. It was perfect, perfect! It would require more testing to be sure, but it seemed Izuku could tell the fundamentals of the quirk without needing to be told.
“That’s right!” he said with a pointed boop on the nose. “You see, I wanted a quirk that no one would notice, and wouldn’t you know, there’s a quirk that turns the user’s hair green so he can photosynthesize.”
“My hair’s already green!” concluded Izuku.
“Exactly, so no one will notice. When you photosynthesize, you’re converting water and sunlight into energy. That means that the more you go out into the sun, the stronger and healthier you are, so long as you drink enough water. I don’t want you to turn this one off, alright? Keep it on all the time if you can. If you can’t, tell me.”
“I can, papa!” Izuku promised. “I’ll keep it on! How strong am I? Can I lift cars? Buildings?”
“Oh, Photosynthesize won’t make you that strong. Barely stronger than you are now.” All for One patted his now pouting child on the head. “But it does mean you can start training yourself to get stronger. A wonderful first quirk for you.”
Yes, Photosynthesize was a good quirk, very useful for growing children but not for someone like himself. The colour change would be too noticeable on his white hair, and all the quirk did was add the energy needed to lightly speed up your natural processes like healing and resting and give a barely noticeable boost in strength. But for a growing boy like Izuku, this quirk would ensure he would grow to the best physical shape he could as long as he got enough sunlight and water. And food too—the quirk wasn’t perfect.
“First quirk?” Izuku was bouncing again. “You mean I’m going to get more?!”
“Of course!” All for One laughed. “We have to test your quirk after all. In fact, let’s give you one more tonight, to celebrate your amazing quirk and as a reward for not telling your mother, okay?”
“Thank you, Daddy!”
“You are welcome, Izuku.” He pet through his soft curls fondly. “Now, I’m going to give you another quirk. I want you to focus on that quirk, on the energy of it. Find where it goes, and see if you can give the quirk back to me, alright?”
Izuku nodded at the challenge, already scrunching up his face in determination. It was so adorable that All for One had to keep himself from pinching the child. Instead, he took another quirk and held it against Izuku’s own. Once again, the quirk was sucked up into his child.
It took a few moments for Izuku to wrestle with the quirk, but finally, the child put his hand over his father’s and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. But the quirk wouldn’t move.
“Dad, it doesn’t want to leave,” Izuku said with a wobbly voice. “I’m sorry, it won’t move!”
All for One considered this. There were a few possibilities. The simplest one is that Izuku simply didn’t know how to give quirks and so would take some time to learn how to do so. He himself hadn’t quite known he could do that when he first got his quirk, but, then again, he hadn’t had anyone there to guide him through it. He had simply figured out that he should be able to and had done so. It had only taken a day, from conception to execution.
Another option, the more obvious one, was that this was Inko’s doing. And the more he considered the lighter shade of miasma within his son, the more he believed it made sense. Inko’s quirk, Attraction, didn’t allow her to push things away from her, only pull them in her direction. It wasn’t levitation, it was like a small gravitational pull. If Izuku’s quirk had its own innate sense of gravity, a center with a pull of its own, it would make it very difficult to overcome. It could even be impossible, though he doubted it. But it also might mean that there might be a positive here. If his quirk had its own sense of gravity, did it also have an increased reach? Even a simple five feet like Inko’s could be a great advantage. This required more experimentation.
“It’s alright, Izuku,” he finally said. “Your quirk wasn’t going to be a perfect copy of mine. We’ll test it some more tomorrow, alright? Now, before we get you ready for bed, do you want to tell me what quirk you think I gave you?”
Izuku’s adorable face scrunched up as he tried to think. “Something . . . with my body. And closing? That doesn’t make sense though, I jumped.”
“That’s perfect, Izuku,” he praised the child. “It is, in fact, a healing quirk that can seal wounds. It doesn’t stop bruising or reset bones, but it will help you stay safe When I'm not always around.”
His adorable little boy was so excited, he jumped up and down little the little bunny he was. "That's so cool! The bad guys can't hurt me so bad! I'm invincible!"
All for One caught his child in his arms, chuckling under his breath.
Izuku stared up at him and beamed. "Thank you, daddy!"
"Anything, Izuku." He would do anything for his son. Anything at all.
“Would you like to learn how to be a hero, Izuku?” He murmured the words softly, tantalizingly. His son’s eyes grew wide and bright. “How to fight like one? How to think like one?”
“Yes, Daddy, yes! Please, please, please, please!”
“Oh my, what’s happening in here?” Inko came in with a tired smile. “I thought you were putting him to bed.”
“Mom, dad’s going to teach me how to be a hero!” Izuku jumped up, fist raised. “’Never fear, I am here!’”
All for One shuddered at the horrible mental image of Izuku as All Might, focusing on Inko’s disbelieving face to distract himself. “I thought Izuku could do with some children’s martial arts. Nothing serious, but it’s fun and he’ll meet lots of other children.”
“Hisashi,” Inko hesitated, “I don’t really have the time.”
All for One brought his wife and child into another warm hug. “I was waiting to tell you, but my work is opening another office here in Japan and they want me to head it. I will be back on the weekends from now on. That’s why I want Izuku to have a class to go to—I can take him there, bring him out for ice cream after, make it a real father-son bonding time. It’s been too long since I was part of this family, Inko. I want to be here now that I have the chance.”
He wanted to raise his son and hone his power, he wanted his son close by his side. And Inko, beautiful Inko, could be happy and secure. Maybe they could have another child? Maybe an adopted child, though, so there was only one All for One progeny running around. Another child would help Inko feel fulfilled while he and Izuku drew closer.
Oh, his precious Izuku. He would be glorious.