My hero academia:Am I worthy?

Two figures were walking down the corridor: a man and a young woman, who had just graduated from university. It was evening, and all the students had left the school, leaving the building empty. Only the staff was cleaning the floors for the next day, which would be a new beginning for the students. The corridor was bright due to the ceiling lamps, and the air was filled with the smell of cleaning chemicals, signaling that the day was over for everyone.

"I'm glad you accepted the invitation. Not only we, but the students will also be pleased with your presence, miss..."

"No need to be so formal, Principal. I understand my background and who stands behind me, but I suggest you don't pay attention to it." She was aware that due to her background, she would be evaluated, but she decided to achieve everything herself, without anyone else's help. Her father had offered to help find a good school for her to teach children from wealthy families who would respect and appreciate her work. But she chose a more challenging path to understand the psychology of middle-class teenagers, who make up the majority of the planet's population. Thus, her attention was drawn to Erudera Middle School, which was average in every respect. It wasn't special in any way.

"Alright, I understand, and tomorrow you will be teaching our students who are about to graduate from this school. I hope this task won't be too difficult?" said the principal, afraid to say something unnecessary, as if her father found out he had spoken ill of his daughter, he might bury him alive.

"I suppose it won't be difficult. Before I go, I would like to know if there are any bullies or standout personalities in the class?"

"This class is very well-behaved, and there's no one who behaves openly provocatively, except for one. This student constantly attacks others, blaming them for his troubles," said the principal, not hiding his disgust and irritation, as this young man had caused him a lot of trouble throughout the school year. He got into all sorts of problems with classmates, but the principal deliberately withheld information about the student's lack of quirks so she wouldn't ask unnecessary questions.

"Ah, I see. No school community is complete without them. I'll handle it. Could you please tell me the student's name?" asked the girl with white hair tinged with red, which added some uniqueness among the white strands. With glasses and a red cardigan, holding a briefcase in her hands. Her cold demeanor and calculated nature left the principal puzzled, and without much thought, he agreed to answer her question.

"The student's name is Izuku Midoriya, and he's easy to spot — green hair and green eyes, a slender build, and he doesn't differ in height from his peers."

Having cleaned the classroom floor, Izuku was exhausted. His body ached from pain, he would have collapsed to the ground from fatigue, but he stayed strong thanks to his beliefs and willpower. After those blows, his skin had turned pink, hidden under his jacket and shirt, but even the slightest touch made him wince in pain. His eyes were closing, and after wiping the last desk, he looked out the window, where night had already fallen deeply. Observing the clean classroom, he put the dirty bucket in a special small room for cleaning supplies. Hunched over, he approached his yellow bag, which smelled like manure due to a classmate's quirk of changing the smell of objects. He could have been an excellent scientist or hero, but knowing what he was up to, no one in his future life would be surprised by his arrogant character.

Tired of cleaning, he sat at his desk, writing about heroes, especially the new hero who had taken all the news headlines by storm with his presence. A hero named Dabi. Looking at his expensive uniform and attractive appearance, he admired him and how bravely he fought villains with fearlessness in his eyes. He noted down his new superpowers and special moves that he had managed to see in a report about him. His character was slightly arrogant and hot-tempered, but when it came to saving civilians, he did his best to help in any way he could. But one thing couldn't be taken away from him — his battles were always spectacular, and watching him as a person was interesting.

"I should be him," Izuku whispered to himself, experiencing an emotional breakdown. Looking at the hero's portrait he drew in his mind, with heaviness in his soul and the fate he had to live with, he banged his head on the desk, crying over his hopeless situation. Neither the dream of becoming a hero, which he couldn't achieve due to his lack of quirks, nor the others, who, due to their quirk superiority, no longer needed help from the quirkless. Nor did he have support: his mother had died because of him, for if he hadn't been born quirkless, she wouldn't have gone to the store that unfortunate day and met the killer. The only thing holding him in this world was the promise made to her before her death and the promise to his best friend, Nejire, that they would become a duo of heroes. The weight of these promises weighed heavily on his chest and soul, as it was impossible to achieve anything without quirks, especially in a society where everything revolved around them. Realizing his worthlessness made him understand that he couldn't achieve anything unless God himself descended from heaven to help him. Izuku doubted his dream and the goals he had set in childhood; he knew too well that his future existence was meaningless, and due to such frequent thoughts, a void had formed in his soul, darker than tar.

Lifting his head and wiping away his tears, he put the notebook in his backpack, and while closing it, he noticed the inner pocket of his jacket, where there was a photo of him and Nejire in hero costumes. It was clear that this photo was taken by his mother, and the warm feelings shared with Nejire brought him back to those carefree times when they spent time together with smiles on their faces, not worrying about tomorrow. Bringing the photo closer to himself, he smiled and wiped Nejire's face from the dust. Throughout the time they had been apart, he felt warm feelings for her and, as he grew older, realized that his feelings of friendship had evolved into a much greater attachment.

"I wonder how you're doing, Nejire? I hope everything is going well for you. Probably, things are much better for you than for me. I'm sure you've found friends who share your spirit. I miss you, Nejire-chan," he said to himself, putting the photo back in his jacket pocket. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he turned off the light in the classroom and left his office. In the corridor, he saw two figures: a young girl and the principal. He wasn't interested in watching them, and honestly, he didn't particularly want to say goodbye, so he decided to pass by.

5 minutes earlier.

"You know, that boy doesn't respect anyone and seeks recognition by insulting other kids because of his worthless quirk," the principal said sarcastically, looking at the office door where the student in question was.

"You have no right to slander him without his knowledge. You're a principal, not a street beggar. Does he cause you so much trouble that he deserves such treatment?" She couldn't tolerate such slander for four years of university and had never encountered such defamation towards middle school students.

"Yes, to be honest, he is indeed a problematic student, even though his academic performance is average, his upbringing is, to put it mildly, poor." The girl didn't want to listen further to his slander towards a student from one of her future classes, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an opening door. The very teenager they had been discussing walked out of the door. With his head down, he walked toward them but didn't even bother to raise his head to greet them and continued walking. The principal decided to break the oppressive silence by calling out to Midoriya with a demonstrative cough.

"Ahem, ahem, Midoriya, greet your new teacher. From tomorrow, she will be your new instructor. Meet Miss Todoroki Fuyumi." Midoriya only glanced at the principal and, in a lifeless voice, greeted his new teacher.

"Hello, Todoroki-san, and have a pleasant evening," he said in a voice devoid of expression and emotion, which was uncharacteristic for a teenager. His legs trembled, his head remained bowed, and, hunched over, he walked toward the exit without giving Fuyumi a farewell glance.

"Ah, this boy doesn't learn anything. Where's his respect for the elders?" When Midoriya's figure disappeared, Fuyumi gave the principal an angry look, causing goosebumps to run down his skin.

"Why did he leave so late when all the students had already gone?" Watching and observing the teenager's behavior, one wouldn't say he was extremely aggressive. She concluded that she was being lied to or, at times, not being told the full truth.

"He is serving his punishment for beating another student. A verbal altercation occurred, and a conflict arose between the students, and he was the first to raise his hand against another, bringing trouble upon himself. May I ask why you pay attention to him? There are more deserving students in the class than him," the response didn't take long, and with a cold reply, she left the principal.

"Why wouldn't I pay attention to him? He's my student, and his physical and mental well-being is my responsibility. You have an extremely irrational approach to your students," she said, but he wanted to catch up with him to inquire about the class, as she needed to have a general picture of what she would have to deal with and what approach was needed to find a way to him.

"Alright, Principal, I won't keep you any longer. We'll meet tomorrow," she waved her hand and quickly made her way to the exit to catch up with Izuku, who had moved away from the school, but his green hair couldn't be mistaken.

"Goodbye, Todoroki-san, have a pleasant evening," he wished, heading to his office.

****

The city was sinking into twilight, illuminated only by dim streetlights along the deserted streets. Izuku walked slowly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. The wind, cool and barely audible, pulled him forward as if calling him to the place where his heart longed to be.

The school bag weighed heavily on his shoulder, but he paid no attention to it. His thoughts, heavy and sticky like fog, enveloped his mind. Today, like many evenings before, he was heading to the cemetery again.

He stopped at a pedestrian crossing, watching the red light of the traffic light, even though no cars were visible. Looking up at the sky, Izuku noticed the first stars breaking through the thickening darkness. He had always been told that stars were the souls of the departed, watching from the heavens and protecting their loved ones. But why then did he feel so alone?

He felt in his soul that someone was searching for him but couldn't reach him. He felt it was very close to him, and once the soul met him, he would find the support he had longed for. The green light came on, signaling to Izuku that he could now proceed. The cemetery was a kilometer away, and lost in his thoughts, he didn't suspect that someone was following him.

The wind tickled his face, blowing uncooperative hair from his head. With a pensive expression, he walked about 500 meters before suddenly stopping, catching Fuyumi off guard. She was already thinking of apologizing for attempting to follow him, but he didn't pay her any attention, only turning his head toward a white stall with flowers and scented candles.

"Where is he going? And he doesn't even seem extremely temperamental with others. I didn't see his anger or any act of disrespect towards others," Fuyumi thought to herself, even more disappointed in the principal's words. Raising his gaze, he saw how he kindly helped an elderly woman cross the street, heading towards the stall, which surprised her greatly. Nowadays, young people rarely care for the elderly and have forgotten what it means to show respect to them. What she saw next didn't surprise her much, but after buying flowers, he bowed to the seller in gratitude and left, heading in a direction unknown to her. She assumed he was going to meet his girlfriend. Judging by the fact that he was a troublemaker, it could be understood he was in some relationship, but this theory was instantly shattered when he turned toward the cemetery. She felt ashamed for such thoughts but continued her observation of him. She also thought, as the principal had described him, and with each of his actions, she became more and more convinced that they were wrong about him. Pretending to be a cemetery visitor, she stood next to him in front of a stranger's grave, pretending to mourn while watching his actions.

"Hi, Mom," he exhaled, lowering his head. He placed flowers on her grave and lit a scented candle in a gesture of respect. After reading a prayer, pain, cold and inevitable as the winter wind, filled him.

"I'm... I'm still trying. You know, I'm trying to be the person you wanted me to be. But sometimes it feels too hard. I hope everything is going well for you, and you feel at peace. Don't worry about me, even though dad hasn't returned, and I'm still alone, I eat well, and I have no problems with food."

His voice trembled, and he fell silent, feeling his throat tighten. He closed his eyes, allowing tears to roll down his cheeks. Memory graciously painted the image of his mother before him — her kind smile, warm eyes, a voice that would never sound again.

The wind touched his face again, gentle like comfort. Izuku rose and straightened up, running his hand over the tombstone.

"Thank you for believing in me," he whispered, taking out a separate notebook for her. Sitting in front of her tombstone, he flipped through his notebook in search of the right page.

Fuyumi, observing this scene, was moved by how the young man cared for his long-deceased mother, who was no longer alive. Seeing him place flowers on her grave, wiping her name from the dirt and dust that the wind had blown there, she watched with trepidation as he lit the candles. His voice trembled, and faint sobs could be heard in his voice. But her thoughts were interrupted by Midoriya's next actions.

Izuku sat in front of the tombstone, his head bowed, clutching the notebook to his chest. The wind gently rustled the leaves on the trees as if listening with him. He remained silent for a long time, gathering the courage to begin.

"Mom..." his voice quivered. "I wrote this for you. I don't know if you'll hear it, but... I just want you to know how much I miss you."

He opened the notebook, his gaze gliding over the familiar lines, written with a trembling hand. Taking a deep breath, Izuku began to read:

You disappeared, leaving me with silence,

And the shadows of words that once felt warm.

My world has dimmed, grown cold as winter,

And here I stand alone, finding no home.

Your hands that once eased my fear,

Now only a dream carried far away.

Your eyes, like stars in the night,

Now silent as steel, gone astray.

You left, leaving the wind in my soul,

It whispers your name endlessly at night.

And each step I take, on a narrow pole,

Leads me to the abyss without your light.

I call for you, Mom, but only hear echoes,

As time crushes my pain into shards.

But I'll remember, fight against these woes —

To not break, to love, even when it scars.

He fell silent, closing the notebook. His voice trembled as he looked up at the tombstone.

"Forgive me for not being able to do more to make you happy," he whispered. "But I promise to live as you would have wanted. So you can be proud of me, even there..."

Izuku pressed his forehead against the cold stone, feeling tears find their way out once more. The wind embraced him for a moment, and it seemed he could hear his mother's soft, almost imperceptible voice, full of love and comfort.

His voice was filled with pain and sorrow, each word of the poem slicing through the air like invisible blades.

Fuyumi didn't know how to express it in words, but his words pierced her.

"You disappeared, leaving me with silence,

And the shadows of words that once felt warm..."

He spoke, and Fuyumi felt her heart tighten. She herself knew that pain — the pain of loss, the desperate desire to hear a familiar voice, to see a smile, to feel the warmth of a loved one who was no longer there.

"You left, leaving the wind in my soul,

It whispers your name endlessly at night..."

Her soul began to calm from his singing; his voice was like a nightingale desperately searching for that lost piece. But she didn't move. She was afraid to break this moment, to disrupt his sincerity, as if the presence of an outsider could destroy his connection with the one to whom these lines were addressed.

When he finished, Fuyumi saw the boy close the notebook and quietly speak to his mother. His voice, though trembling, was filled with determination — the kind she recognized in herself. The determination to live for the memory of the one you love.

She stood behind the trees, holding onto a thin branch not to reveal her presence. She wanted to approach, to tell him how deeply his words had touched her soul. But what could she say? She was just a stranger.

When the boy stood up, placing his hand on the tombstone, he stood at full height, looking at her name and the candle that had been burning since he arrived.

"I know, Mom, that I'm facing a difficult path, and my dream is almost unattainable, but I miss you, Mom..." Whispering his farewell words, he headed toward the cemetery exit, and his eye caught a lonely figure walking behind him. It unnerved him that she had watched him all the time spent at the cemetery, and as he exited, he waited for her and decided to ask directly. Fuyumi walked to the exit and met his gaze. He waited for her, and as she approached him, he asked a polite question.

"Excuse me, ma'am, do you need my help?" Izuku asked, looking at his feet, lowering his head, which puzzled her, as she was used to people looking her in the eye when speaking.

"Uh, young man, my eyes are here, not down there," she said, noticing how his green eyes had lost their life. Looking at her, he realized he should apologize, as he had interrupted her moment of mourning with his poems.

"I apologize, ma'am, for interrupting your moment of mourning," he bowed to her at a 45-degree angle, which surprised her. This was the boy they said was rude and disrespectful to others. This was a slander against an innocent child. Seeing his eyes red from tears and the abundance of freckles blushing, she thought he felt awkward being there.

"It was beautiful; your poems moved even me. I listened to it all, and I'm very sorry for your loss," she said, noting the puzzled reaction of her future student. Placing one hand on the back of his head, he scratched it out of awkwardness, and with an unsure smile, he managed to accept the compliment.

"Heheh, thank you, uh..." He didn't know her name, and she removed her glasses, extending her hand for a handshake.

"You can call me Fuyumi." He gently shook her hand, and her pale, delicate skin on her hand sent a shiver through his body, to which Fuyumi smiled.

"Izuku, Izuku Midoriya," he introduced himself. He saw sincerity in her eyes, which he hadn't seen for a long time, and didn't lie to her in any way.

"Uh, Fuyumi-san, you know, the cemetery isn't the best place for a conversation. Can we sit on a bench and have a snack? The tense atmosphere has made me very hungry," Izuku said sarcastically, but he understood that he had two containers of food in his bag. Why two? Because he carried the second one in case he needed to share with someone.

"Oh, yes, you're right, let's get out of here, Midoriya, it's rather gloomy here," looking for a bench, they walked in silence the entire way, and finally finding that very spot in the park, he sat next to her. Midoriya decided to break the awkward silence.

"F-Fuyumi-san, would you like to have a snack? I have a container of food for you; I thought you might be hungry." Seeing the offered container of food, she was glad that all the slander had been untrue, and the student named Izuku Midoriya was quite a kind and caring person, despite constantly getting into trouble. Not to upset her student, she took the container, which was relatively cold, and Izuku, knowing this, shyly lowered his head.

"Sorry, Fuyumi-san, if it's cold, it's been with me since morning." Fuyumi, knowing her reason, asked about the temperature of his own container.

"If your container is also cold, then give it to me." Without asking unnecessary questions, he handed her the container and watched as ice began to form on Fuyumi's palms, followed by a gentle flame capable of warming the food in the container. Seeing such a sight, Izuku lit up and clapped his hands in applause, although she was embarrassed by the gesture, she accepted the praise.

Opening the container, the aroma of chicken and rice in coconut milk hit her nose; the smell was intoxicating, and Izuku handed her a disposable wooden fork.

"It looks so good, you could lick your fingers. Midoriya, did you cook all this yourself?" she asked, observing Izuku chewing his food.

"Please, call me Izuku, Fuyumi-san. Yes, I cooked it. It's a recipe from a cookbook my mom used." Memories surfaced, but Fuyumi quickly interrupted his thoughts.

"Sorry if I touched on something painful. I wanted to tell you that I'm your new teacher in your class, having just graduated from university." The word "teacher" sent a shiver through his body, and looking at her, he began to wonder if she would behave like the other teachers who taught him. But she was sincere with him, and he was worried about how she would react to his lack of quirks, fearing she might ask about it.

"Tell me, Izuku, why did you leave the class so late? Did you fall asleep there?" Fuyumi asked, taking a bite of the chicken, which was delightful in taste.

"Oh, if only, Fuyumi-san. I was punished for attacking a classmate in a fit of anger in class." Izuku squeezed his shoulders even tighter to seem smaller, but Fuyumi got ahead of him by asking the right question.

"How did that happen? I mean, looking at you, it doesn't seem to me at all that you're capable of such aggressive actions, Izuku." His heart constricted at the mention of this, and her further question would lead to the revelation of his lack of quirks, but, bracing himself, he sighed heavily, ready for the unpleasant moment.

"They... They... When we had physical education, we were supposed to go to the locker room, and one of my classmates, Katsuki Bakugo, decided to teach me a lesson: he heated his hand until it was red-hot and extended it for me to shake. Against my will, I shook it, and it was very painful. This mark is still on my hand," Izuku said, showing the consequences of the handshake, which shocked Fuyumi, as using quirks in public places is punishable by a hefty fine. The outrageous part was that the wrong person was punished.

Bakugo's second friend, Katsuo, decided to insult my mom, and I couldn't hold back, attacking him with my fists. But he was stronger than me and stopped me with one punch. At that moment, our gym teacher saw us and sent me to the principal's office. It was painful to tell her this because he knew what question would come next.

"Why do they hate you? What did you do to them that they decided to gang up on you?"

"I didn't do anything. I didn't even say a bad word to them. Ugh, they hate me because I'm quirkless," an awkward silence hung in the air, which neither side dared to break, but, steeling his heart, Izuku continued.

"And now I have to clean the floors for a week," Izuku said, looking at his red boots, hiding his gaze from Fuyumi. But what surprised him even more was her hand touching his shoulder. Pale, cold, but gentle, like snow touching the skin. He met her gaze, and she took off her glasses, her pure innocent face exuding sincerity, softly smiled at him.

"Don't worry, Izuku, everything will be fine. I'll try to help you, and if everything goes well, you don't need to thank me," warmth spread through his heart, but also a lack of understanding of why she decided to help him with his problem. There were many questions, but stammering, he asked her about her motives.

"Why, Fuyumi-san? I mean, many teachers turned a blind eye to my problems, but why did you decide to help me?" Fuyumi felt shocked and understood that he was being treated poorly and even deceived, so he looked at help with skepticism. And with that, she decided to share her main goal with him, so as not to lose his trust.

"Why wouldn't I help you? It's my duty as a teacher to care for my students and show them concern. Yes, I must teach them and educate them, but in fact, I temporarily become a second mother to them. And my goal is to raise a worthy generation capable of showing compassion and care for others," hearing her speech and motive, tears welled up in Izuku's eyes, and with tears in his eyes, he thanked her.

"Fuyumi-san, thank you," without hesitation, Fuyumi hugged him, comforting him and bringing him into the warm motherly embrace he missed so much. She stroked his back, and he, in turn, hugged her tightly, wanting the moment to last forever, but all good things must come to an end eventually, so he let go of her, and she followed his example.

"Thank you, Fuyumi-san, now I know you're one of the best teachers in my life," Izuku's words touched her, but she thought it was too exaggerated and decided to play along with him.

"Thank you, Izuku, for your flattery, but aren't you getting ahead of yourself? I haven't even started teaching you, and you're already putting me among the best teachers."

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure, Fuyumi-san," he replied, discussing different topics with her until late at night, and he realized for himself that humans need other humans. It doesn't matter what gender they are. What matters is how they treat you. He didn't feel love or romance for her. He saw in her his mother, whom he missed so much, even though she wasn't her, but he knew she would support him. Their conversations lasted until it got too late, and they had to part and meet the next day.

"Goodbye, Izuku, and don't be late for school tomorrow."

"Okay, Fuyumi-san, good night."

****

Nejire walked down the school corridor, holding textbooks in her arms. The corridor was filled with noise — voices, laughter, discussions of lessons, and plans for the evening echoed everywhere. She looked at the students around her and felt her heart squeeze with longing.

Everyone seemed so happy. Girls hugged each other, shared their secrets, boys teased one another, gathering for practice. Groups of friends animatedly discussed where to go after school, and couples held hands, smiling and looking into each other's eyes.

But for Nejire, this world was out of reach.

She walked past a mirror in the corridor and glanced at her reflection. Her bright blue hair, which she used to love, now seemed to her a sign of estrangement. She couldn't understand why people saw something "strange" in her just because of her quirk and curious nature.

"Are you alone again?" she heard a voice behind her.

She turned and met the eyes of a classmate whose face was full of feigned sympathy.

"If you want, you can join us... though, you'll probably be bored," the girl added mockingly before returning to her group.

Nejire didn't reply. She just turned and walked the other way.

Every evening after school, she returned home, trying not to pay attention to the joyful groups filling the streets. She would lock herself in her room, where her only solace was an old photograph she kept on her desk.

She sat on her bed, taking the framed picture in her hands. In the photo, she and Izuku were smiling, their eyes shining with genuine happiness. It was a long time ago — they were only five years old then.

Her fingers traced Izuku's face, and her chest ached.

"Izuku..." she whispered, feeling tears fill her eyes.

She remembered how he was always there when she was sad or scared. He never let her feel alone. If she stumbled or fell, he would reach out a hand and say:

"Nejire, everything will be fine. I'm always here."

His voice, full of kindness and care, echoed in her mind so clearly, as if he were right there.

But now he was gone.

The next day at school, she tried to talk to one of her classmates. They were sitting in the classroom before the lessons began, and Nejire smiled, sitting down next to her.

"Hi, I thought maybe we could work on the project together?" she suggested, trying to sound confident.

The girl she addressed snorted and turned to her friend.

"Did you hear what she said?" she asked with a smirk. "Why does she suddenly need help? Her quirk lets her do everything herself."

Her friend nodded, clearly trying to impress.

"Yeah, with that kind of power, she shouldn't even be here. Maybe she should go somewhere where they'll worship her?"

These words hit Nejire harder than she expected. Her throat tightened, and she couldn't respond. Instead, she simply gathered her things and left the classroom.

She hid in the bathroom, where her tears finally broke free.

"Why?" she whispered, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "Why are they like this with me?"

She remembered how she could discuss any problem with Izuku before. He would definitely listen, support her, find the words that would help her calm down.

"You would understand me," she said, wiping the tears from her face.

Evenings became her most difficult times. After school, she sat by the window, watching the sunset disappear over the rooftops.

She imagined that somewhere far away, Izuku was also looking at this sunset.

"You would help me," she said softly.

She remembered how he would give her paper airplanes when she was sad, or how they dreamed together of becoming heroes.

"I would give anything to see you again," she whispered.

She couldn't share these feelings with anyone. Her parents didn't understand her longing. They believed she should "come to terms with reality" and focus on her studies.

"You're too smart to waste time worrying about the past," her father would say.

But how could she forget someone who meant everything to her?

Every day became a trial for Nejire. Her classmates avoided her, considering her "too strong" or "too strange." She felt isolated from the entire world, from her dreams, from herself.

Her only solace remained memories of the past.

"I'll find you, Izuku," she quietly said one evening, looking at the stars.

And at that moment, a tiny spark of hope appeared in her heart that one day their paths would cross again.

Unfortunately, Nejire didn't know what Izuku had been going through all these years. Her incredibly powerful quirk made her an outcast in the entire class. Everyone envied her, spoke ill of her, spreading false rumors, and because of this hypocrisy, she couldn't find sincere friends in her new school. Even though she was an active and curious girl, she was perceived as an oddball interested in others' weaknesses.

Nejire stood in the school corridor, leaning against the cold wall. Around her, students were passing by, laughing, talking, discussing their business. But for her, these sounds blended into a general hum that only amplified her loneliness.

Her quirk — incredibly powerful and unusual — was not only a source of pride but also constant problems. Her peers always saw her not as a person but as something more, yet cold and unreachable.

"Oh wow, you outdid everyone again, Hado," she heard a sharp voice behind her. "What, were you hoping someone would praise you?"

She turned around, but no one even looked her way. The words were spoken loudly enough for her to hear them.

"Weirdo."

This word followed her from her first day at the new school. It stuck to her like a brand, like a nickname that seemed harmless but was filled with mockery.

She didn't understand what she had done wrong. Her character — bright, curious, open — seemed normal to her. She just loved asking questions, sharing her thoughts and ideas. But over time, this started to irritate others.

"You know, sometimes it seems like you're just trying to show how smart you are," one of her classmates once said.

"Yeah," another one chimed in. "Always discussing everything, interested in everything... Do you think you know better than us?"

These words hit her harder than she expected. She wasn't trying to outdo anyone. She just wanted to be part of something bigger, find common topics, make friends. But it seemed her sincerity was perceived completely differently.

Her quirk, which gave her incredible strength, didn't help either. On the contrary, it only intensified envy and alienation.

"Of course, she succeeds at everything. With a quirk like that, I'd beat everyone too," one of the boys in her class once said.

Nejire clenched her fists but said nothing in response. She knew that any attempt to defend herself would only make the situation worse.

Every evening, she returned home and, instead of doing her homework or relaxing, sat by the window and looked at the old photograph she had kept since her family moved.

In the photo, she and Izuku were young, happy, carefree. It was her only oasis of warmth in a cold, hostile world.

"Izuku, you would understand me," she whispered one day, wiping away tears.

She remembered how they played together, made plans, laughed. Back then, it seemed to her that their friendship would last forever.

But now it seemed like just a dream. Life had built a wall of distance, time, and circumstances between them.

She tried to find him several times. She even found out the address of his old school, but family matters and studies constantly pulled her away from these plans.

****

Everything intensified when one day, the teacher decided to have an open conversation in class. He asked the students to express their opinions about each other to improve relationships.

When it was Nejire's turn, she felt a lump form in her throat.

"Hado... Well, she's..." one of the classmates began, not knowing how to express his thoughts correctly. "She's too... strange."

"Yeah, she's always sticking her nose where it doesn't belong," another girl added.

"Her quirk is too strong. We all know no one can compare to her, so why should she even train?"

"That's not true!" Nejire suddenly burst out, unable to hold back.

The class fell silent, surprised by her sharpness.

"I just want to be part of the team, I want to get to know you better... I never tried to belittle anyone!"

"Then why do you keep showing such interest?" one of the boys asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you think we're interesting to you?"

"Yes, you are interesting!" she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "But you always think I'm doing it out of pride... And I just..."

She stopped, realizing that words would change nothing.

"Weirdo," a voice from the back row said.

She abruptly got up and ran out of the classroom without looking back.

****

Nejire sat on the roof of her house, hugging her knees. The cold evening wind tousled her blue hair, but she barely noticed it. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, at the spot where the sun disappeared behind the houses. Every evening, she looked in that direction, as if hoping that somewhere out there, far away, Izuku was thinking of her too.

It had been nine years since they were separated. She was only five, but she remembered everything down to the smallest detail: how Izuku's warm hand squeezed her palm, how tears blurred her vision of his face as they parted. She remembered his confused, pain-filled gaze when she let go of his hand.

She didn't want to leave. Her child's heart, not even understanding everything, screamed that it was wrong.

"We promised to always be together," she whispered, holding back tears that were already breaking free.

But life was unfair. Her father and she had to move to deal with financial difficulties, and she had no choice.

The day she first got into the car, her heart felt like it was breaking. She looked out the window, watching Izuku's figure grow smaller until he disappeared around the corner.

"I'll always remember you," she whispered, clutching her backpack as if it could keep her in the past.

But time passed, and life in the new place drew her into its whirlpool. School and new acquaintances, who didn't become her friends, but none of them could fill the void left after parting with Izuku. She kept the only photograph taken before their separation in her desk drawer. They both laughed in it, holding paper airplanes. It was a happy time.

Now, at fourteen, she no longer cried as often as in childhood, but the feeling of loss remained with her. Every time she saw others laughing with friends or holding hands, something tightened in her heart.

She often thought about what he had become. Had he changed? Was he angry at her for leaving? Did he remember her? These questions tormented her, leaving a heavy residue on her soul.

But the scariest thing for Nejire was the fear of being forgotten by him. She feared that with each passing day, her image in his memory would fade, disappear like morning mist.

Looking at the sky, Nejire quietly whispered:

"Izuku... You remember me too, right?"

Her voice trembled, though no one heard it. The wind carried her words away, and she continued to sit in solitude, holding the old photograph that had slightly faded over the years.

Her only solace remained memories of the past.

"I'll find you, Izuku," she quietly said one evening, looking at the stars.

And at that moment, a tiny spark of hope appeared in her heart that one day their paths would cross again.

To be continued...

[Next chapter: the appearance of the symbiote and symbiosis]