Confrontation

The last year passed faster than Shin expected.

At fourteen, he had already grown stronger—taller, more solid, with sharper features that made his resemblance to a young, cooler version of Eren Yeager even more striking. His black hair was messier now, slightly longer, and his eyes had gained that quiet edge—storm-emerald, unreadable to most.

His training had only grown more intense. Every morning before sunrise, he pushed his body beyond limits, his enhanced strength and lightning quirks refining together into something truly formidable. His lightning crackled with precision now, not just power.

And still—he stayed low. In the background.

Watching.

Waiting.

Not just for the right moment to step forward, but for the story to begin.

And today… it felt like the prologue had ended.

They were in class at Aldera Junior High. The hum of fluorescent lights mixed with lazy chatter and pencil scribbles, but something in the air buzzed with tension.

Bakugou Katsuki.

Midoriya Izuku.

It was like watching a match slowly burn toward the dynamite.

Shin sat near the window, one row behind and over from Midoriya. Yuki had passed him a half-crushed melon bread from her lunch, which he was absently munching on. Toma was, as usual, asleep two seats away with his hoodie over his eyes. Shiro had his eyes on the front of the classroom, but Shin knew he was listening to everything.

Bakugou was in a foul mood again—simmering like he always did. The kind of storm that didn't need lightning, just one spark.

And Midoriya—he wasn't afraid.

Not like before.

Something had changed in him over the past few months. He stood a little straighter. Held his books a little tighter. Didn't flinch when Bakugou made his usual jabs.

And now, as they walked toward the back of the classroom after lunch, Shin saw it coming.

Bakugou shoved Midoriya's desk with his foot.

"You still aiming for U.A., Deku?" he sneered, the familiar bite in his voice.

Midoriya didn't look away.

"Yeah," he said, simply.

Bakugou froze for a second, as if the answer threw him off.

"…Tch. You really haven't learned your place." He moved closer, eyes narrowing. "You think some quirkless nobody like you—"

"I'm not afraid of you."

Silence hit the class like a weight.

Even Shin looked up.

Midoriya's voice was calm. Steady.

"I'm not afraid of you Kaachan." he said again, "and I'm going to become a hero."

Bakugou's eyes flickered. Confused. Furious. Like a fuse had finally been lit.

Shin stood slowly, slipping the last bite of bread into his mouth. His eyes never left the two boys.

He remembered this moment. Or something like it.

It wasn't supposed to happen yet.

The timeline was moving.

And something about it felt different. Faster. Shin could feel the weight of it in his bones.

Shiro glanced over at him. Just once. A silent message passed between them.

It's starting.

Yuki blinked between the boys. "Whoa. Did Deku just clap back?! Is this… character development?!"

Toma yawned from under his hoodie. "Mm. Feels like the season premiere."

Bakugou snarled. "You think just having a confident puts you on my level?"

He moved like he might grab Midoriya's shirt—but Shin stepped forward just enough that the floor creaked underfoot. Just a shift. Just enough.

Bakugou's eyes flicked toward him.

He didn't say anything.

But he didn't move forward, either.

The bell rang. Homeroom resumed. And the tension faded like static being tuned out.

But Shin knew it wasn't over.

******

It was just another cloudy afternoon in Musutafu, the kind that hinted at rain but never quite followed through. Students poured out of Aldera Junior High, some in groups, some alone—most ready to forget homework and dive into video games or snacks.

Shin Karasuma, now fourteen, walked out with his usual group in tow.

Yuki was half-yelling about a new hero special airing that evening. Toma was chewing on a rice cracker with one eye closed, like he could fall asleep standing up. Shiro walked silently beside them, his gaze flicking up to the clouds every so often.

Midoriya was just a few steps behind, scribbling something furiously into one of his notebooks, lips moving silently in what looked like hero analysis mode.

Shin glanced at him. He'd grown to admire Midoriya's quiet dedication, even if it came in the form of frantic muttering. Still quirkless—for now, Shin thought—but stronger than anyone gave him credit for.

"Yo, Deku!" Yuki waved, hopping over to him. "What're you writing now? A love letter to All Might?"

Midoriya blushed furiously, trying to cover the notebook. "N-No! It's just notes on Mount Lady's rescue patterns and—"

"Relax," Shin said, stepping in with a calm smile. "We're just teasing."

As they reached the intersection, the group began to split up, each heading toward different neighborhoods. Midoriya waved awkwardly and started down his usual alleyway route, hugging his backpack.

Shin's steps slowed.

Something in the air buzzed.

A faint static. His electrosense sense something.

In the distance, a low, wet gurgle echoed from somewhere off the main street.

Then—screams.

Shin's instincts flared. He turned sharply toward the alley Midoriya had taken and ran.

He rounded the corner just in time to see it.

A sludge-like creature—oozing, monstrous, grinning—was coiled around Midoriya, trying to force itself into his mouth. Midoriya kicked and fought, eyes wide with terror.

Without thinking, Shin's hand sparked, electricity crackling up his arm.

But before he could move—BOOM.

A gust of wind slammed into the alley, followed by a deep, booming laugh.

"All Might," Shin breathed.

The Symbol of Peace had arrived, golden and enormous, like a storm made of smiles and muscle. In a blink, he neutralized the sludge villain, scooping it into a bottle with expert ease.

Midoriya collapsed, gasping.

Shin stayed back, heart pounding.

This was it.

The moment.

All Might turned to leave, preparing to leap away—but Midoriya clutched his leg.

Shin watched, hidden behind a street pole, as Midoriya begged for answers. For a chance to become a hero. For hope.

All Might's expression faltered, and then, with one leap—they were gone.

Shin didn't follow.

He didn't need to.

He knew what came next.

Midoriya's fate was sealed.

But as he turned back, footsteps approached.

Shiro stood there quietly, watching him. His gray eyes narrowed.

"You knew this would happen," he said softly.

Shin nodded.

And for the first time, he felt it wasn't just the canon moving forward—it was his story, too.

The butterfly had flapped its wings.

And now the storm was on the horizon.

*******

BOOM!

The wind whipped through the alley as the sludge villain burst apart in a spray of foul ooze, bottled up and defeated in the blink of an eye.

Midoriya collapsed to the ground, coughing, lungs burning from the lack of air. His limbs trembled—not with weakness, but with the remnants of terror.

But above him… stood him.

"All Might…" he whispered hoarsely.

The hero, larger than life, beamed down at him with that trademark smile, bottle of villain sludge in hand.

"Worry not, young man!" he boomed. "You are safe now!"

Midoriya stared, dazed.

All Might.

The real deal.

Right in front of him.

"I—I—thank you—!" he gasped, trying to stand. His knees buckled, but he caught himself. His arms, while shaky, had muscle to them now. Not from a quirk, but from training. Push-ups, sprints, sparring. The sweat of countless hours. Shin had encouraged him, made him believe that even without a quirk, he could be strong.

All Might nodded briskly, readying to leap away.

But Midoriya's heart screamed at him—don't let this moment pass.

He clenched his teeth and lunged forward, arms outstretched.

"All Might, wait!!"

His hands grabbed onto the hero's leg—tight, unyielding.

And then the world blurred.

Wind slammed against his face, buildings zoomed by, and he realized he was flying.

Sort of.

Clinging for dear life to the leg of his lifelong idol.

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THIS IS INSANELY DANGEROUS!" All Might yelled mid-air, trying to shake him off mid-leap.

"I—I had to ask you something!" Midoriya shouted, eyes wide, hair whipping in the wind. "I need to talk to you!! Please!!"

They landed with a thunderous crash on a rooftop.

All Might stood tall, but the moment his feet touched down, a strange hissing sound echoed—and in a puff of steam, the muscular titan shrank into a gaunt, thin man with sunken eyes and a frail frame.

Midoriya stumbled back in shock.

"What…?" he breathed.

"Keep it down," the real All Might—thin form and all—grunted, coughing into his hand. Blood trickled between his fingers. "Yes, this is my true form. A long story. Not public knowledge."

Midoriya's mind reeled, but he snapped back fast. This wasn't the time for fanboying.

He took a breath and stood tall.

"Please, All Might," he said, voice firmer than he ever remembered. "I know I'm quirkless. I know I'm not supposed to be a hero. But I have to ask you."

He clenched his fists, every scar and bruise from training burning with memory.

"Can someone like me become a hero?"

All Might looked at him in silence.

He expected to see desperation.

Instead, he saw something else:

Conviction.

No trembling, no tears this time.

This boy—this Izuku Midoriya—was still afraid, but he wasn't broken.

"You've been training," All Might said slowly. "You're in shape."

Midoriya nodded once. "I want to be strong enough to save people. Even if I can't fight like the others. I can't just watch and do nothing anymore."

All Might's eyes softened.

He remembered the footage. The boy charging in to help someone who never liked him. A move only true heroes would make.

And now—this.

He smiled.

"...Young man," he said, standing straighter. "I once said being a hero means having the heart to act. Even when you're powerless. You've already shown me that heart."

Midoriya's breath hitched.

"Does that mean…"

"Yes."

All Might stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You can be a hero."

Midoriya's world lit up like a second sunrise.

He didn't cry.

He smiled—shaky, wide, but burning with hope.

The path had opened.

And he would walk it with pride.