Notice: Chapter 2 has been partially rewritten. An excerpt with pertinent information is past the author's notes. If you read Chapter 2 after this chapter was released, feel free to ignore it. If not, I highly recommend you give the excerpt a look, as it'll be relevant in future chapters.

Midoriya Inko knew that her son was not okay. Learning that he had been Quirkless, despite both his parents having Quirks, shattered her baby Izuku's dream of being a hero. Maybe she shouldn't have told him it wouldn't be possible. Maybe her son would still be happy if she had let him live a lie, but she knew she couldn't live with herself if Izuku got himself hurt trying to be a hero without a Quirk.

The first couple weeks were hell. If Izuku wasn't crying over his favorite All Might video, he had the lifeless demeanor of a zombie, and if he wasn't dejectedly staring off into space, he was working on his notebook with shaking fingers. Inko almost broke down, almost told him that he could still be a hero, that he could sign up for martial arts or something, learn how to save others without a Quirk. If it had gone on for much longer, she might have.

It was as if a switch was flipped in Izuku's brain. One day, the crying, the listlessness, the expression of a broken heart and shattered dreams, was replaced by apathy. Sure, he still smiled or frowned at things. Over the years, Inko learned to read the subtle changes in expression. However, he never laughed, never seemed surprised at anything, never said more than he needed to or tried anything different. He kept to himself, working on his hero notebooks and studying for school.

Inko sometimes wondered if she should take her son to a psychologist. Even if it would cost her more than she could afford, she could find a way to make it work. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she couldn't say that anything was wrong with her son. He didn't behave like other kids, but his grades were normal and his teachers didn't have any comments. If she couldn't say there was wrong with him, then would there even be anything to fix?

The slime incident seemed to spark a change in Izuku. He started working out, eating more, and going outside. When she asked why, Izuku told her that he had applied to U.A.'s hero program, and he wanted to pass. As tempted as she was to put her foot down, tell him it was too dangerous, especially after a villain nearly killed him, the thought of him finally coming out of his shell changed her mind. Inko had hoped that she would get her smiling son back.

Only, he never did come out of that shell. Though his appetite improved and his body grew visibly more athletic, Izuku's attitude remained unchanged. As the day of the exam approached, Izuku showed no hint of excitement or anxiety. He left home with his backpack slung over his shoulders, a pair of garden shears poking out the top, and a plexiglass shield in one hand.

When Izuku got the results back, with the top score on the physical exam and a passing grade on the written portion, earning a full-ride scholarship on top of getting into the hero program, and casually tossed the acceptance letter on the table without a hint of joy or happiness, Inko knew she had to talk to someone. She waited until the school year began, waited until she could take a day off from both of her jobs, before calling up the school. After telling the assistant what she wanted, she was quickly passed to the principal. She quickly explained her concerns, and he asked her what time would work best for her. When she said she could make anytime on Monday, he scheduled her for an early morning visit.

After Izuku left for school, Inko packed her own backpack, filling it with the doctor's notice she got when he was four, along with anything else she thought could explain what she thought was wrong, pictures of him alone during birthday parties, his neutral expression when he got a new All Might figurine, report cards and notes from parent-teacher conferences.

Eraserhead met her out at the school gates. Izuku had told him who he was and explained hey he operated outside the limelight, but it felt hard to believe that the unkempt, shabby looking man wasn't only her son's homeroom teacher, but also a pro hero. The press parted uneasily around him as he glared them aside, making room for Inko.

Eraserhead complemented her for not wasting any time and led her into the school. She gawked at the scenery, struggling to take in how vast and modern the school looked, but Eraserhead's rapid pace made her hustle to keep up with him. She was nearly out of breath by the time they made it to a conference room.

A tiny, white-furred rodent in a suit and an old lady in a doctor's robe with a syringe for a hair ornament were waiting for her, seated around a large table. Four cups of tea were set out, still steaming hot, with a white china pot at the center of the table. Eraserhead sat next to the rodent, leaving Inko the seat at the far end of the table. Inko tried the tea and found it refreshingly sweet.

"I'm not fond of fruity teas myself," the rodent told her, "But I figured you would enjoy this more. Is it to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you." Inko took another sip to calm her nerves. "Thank you for meeting with me, Nezu-san. I don't want to be a bother."

"Not at all," Nezu said. "The welfare of this institution's students will always be my top priority. I am happy to meet with concerned parents at any time." Gesturing at the others around the table, Nezu said, "This is Shuzenji Chiyo, the school nurse, and Aizawa Shouta, Midoriya-kun's homeroom teacher. So, I know we discussed this over the phone a bit, but I would appreciate it if you could give us a detailed account of what concerns you have."

Inko told them everything she could think of, the doctor's diagnosis and his behavior the few weeks after, the sudden change, his apathy, the slime villain attack, and his fervent training afterwards. She showed her pictures, the notes, the medical records, wondering if the teachers were going to think she was crazy. It sounded crazy to her, all laid out, crazy to raise a fuss over her son being distant and withdrawn after having his dreams crushed, but it felt good to get all her worries off her chest.

Nezu had been taking notes throughout her speech. When she stopped, he kept writing a few minutes, the scratching of his fountain-tip pen filling the silence in the room. "Is that everything?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you for listening, I'm sorry if I wasted your time–"

"You aren't omitting anything, are you?"

Nezu's beady eyes seemed to bore holes into her skull. Inko swallowed nervously and said, "No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong?"

Shuzenji and Aizawa exchanged a look that make Inko's stomach plummet. Nezu tapped his pen on the table, lost in thought.

"For the record," the principal said, "I don't suspect any wrong-doing on your part." Inko's heart nearly stopped at the gravity of his tone and words. "However, if I find reason to believe otherwise, I may have to involve the authorities."

Inko's heart joined her stomach somewhere near her toes. "What happened?"

Both faculty members turned towards the principal. Nezu took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry to ask you like this, but are you aware of Izuku's scars?"

"His what?"

Nezu nodded towards Aizawa. The teacher took out a remote, turning on a projector over the table. The image taken during the combat training was a bit blurry, zoomed in, but she could still make out faint splotches and lines on Izuku's skin, blindingly white against Izuku's pale skin.

Tears poured down Inko's face as she took in the image, blurring the scars even more. "When?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "When did this happen?"

"I got a closer look at his scars when he came into my office," Shuzenji said. "They all look years old, and though I can't be sure, it looks like they all happened at different times. As best as I can guess, this has been happening for a long time." The nurse made a grim expression and said bitterly, "They don't look self-inflicted."

"Someone did this to him? Who? Why?"

"We don't know," Nezu said. "I've been reviewing school records, but Aldera didn't have anything on record. It will take time, but I'm working on getting access to their security footage."

Inko could barely speak from how tight her throat had become. She couldn't see anymore, blinded by her tears. "How did I not know about this?" she wailed, sobbing into her arm. "How could I be so stupid?"

Shuzenji hopped out of her chair and went to Inko's side. "You two," she snapped at Nezu and Aizawa, "Out."

"We'll be next door," Nezu said. "Take as much time as you need, Midoriya-san."

When they were alone, Recovery Girl pulled a chair over next to Inko. She sat next to her, patting her shoulder while she sobbed into the table.

"Everything will be okay, Midoriya-san. We will do everything we can for your son."

"How did I not know? He had scars all over his arm and back for god knows how long, and I never even noticed them. How?"

"Do you think he was hiding them on purpose?"

Inko sniffed and wiped her face. "I – he had to have. He always wore long shirts, no matter how hot it was… he always said he hated swimming. How did I miss all that?"

"It's alright, dearie, you didn't know. Nobody's perfect. There's nothing you could have done if he didn't let you know about his problems."

"But why?" Inko grabbed Shuzenji by the shoulders. Her eyes were flooding with fresh tears. "Why didn't he tell me? Did he think I wouldn't care? Did he think I wouldn't believe him, or do anything about it?"

"I don't know," Recovery Girl said. "That's something you'll have to find out from your son."

Inko's shoulders sagged. "I did this. When he got the diagnosis, he asked me if he could still be a hero. I – I just apologized! I couldn't even tell him that he could still have his dream! I couldn't – I was so worried about what would happen to him, and I – if I had been more supportive, if I helped him become a hero like he always dreamed, maybe he would've trusted me. Maybe he would've told me all this was happening." Inko grew nearly incomprehensible as her chest shook from all the sobbing. "Maybe it wouldn't have even happened in the first place!"

"You weren't wrong, Midoriya-san. Hero work is dangerous. Your son came in a few days ago with two broken fingers, I'm guessing he didn't tell you that either?"

Inko's stricken countenance was all the answer Shuzenji needed. The elderly woman shook her head. "It's a common enough occurrence during training. Burns, cuts, broken bones, concussions, sprains, you name it, I've seen it in my office. We try to limit it, but fact is, they need to be exposed to that danger beforehand, or the real world will chew them up. Hero work isn't glamorous, it isn't a cozy life. It's a life of hardship and sacrifice, one that isn't easy for anyone, even those with powerful quirks. If I hadn't seen what Midoriya was capable of for myself, I would have insisted that he be transferred to general studies."

"Even now, I still can't believe he's here. I don't even know how I did it! How awful is that? I should've been there to support him, and instead, he had to do all this on his own. No wonder he never told me anything!"

Inko buried her face in Shuzenji's shoulder, drenching her coat. She cried like that for fifteen minutes, while Recovery Girl patted her back and muttered softly to her.

"I'm sorry," Inko said as she pulled away. "I shouldn't have–"

"It's quite alright." Shuzenji rummaged around in her pocket and took out a gummy. "Here, eat one. You'll feel better."

Inko stared numbly at the green teddy bear between her fingers. She popped it in her mouth, grimacing at the sickly-sweet apple flavor. When she swallowed it, a surge of energy spread through her, making her feel a little less like death.

"Thank you," she said, her voice trembling as she held back another round of sobs. "You're going through all this trouble just for me. I don't feel like I deserve it."

"That's what heroes are for," Shuzenji said with a warm smile. "We help whoever and however we can. Don't worry about not being worth it, because you are. You care about your son, and because of that, I know the two of you will be okay."

Inko took a deep breath and wrung her hands together. "Thank you, Shuzenji-san. I – I don't know what to do next. Where do I even begin?"

"Well, we have a counselor on staff for situations like this. If you would like, we can talk to Nezu and see if we can set up an appointment. We also have psychiatrists we can contact, but it may take a while before they can see your son."

"The counselor sounds perfect." Inko wiped her face on her sleeve, grimacing when some of her makeup stained the fabric. "I'm a mess."

"Don't worry about that, I have some powder you can borrow."

"It's fine, I'm just heading home anyways, but thank you."

Shuzenji poured Inko another cup of tea. "Should I go get Nezu?"

"Please."

Inko barely had time for a sip before everyone was back. She tried her best to stay in control of herself, but she knew she looked like a mess from the pained expression on Aizawa's face.

"From what I understand, you wish to set up an appointment with the school's counselor, correct?" When Inko nodded, the principal said, "I can get you in as early as next Monday, after school. Will that be alright?"

"It will." She had work that day for both jobs, but the thought didn't even cross her mind. "Thank you so much."

"Anytime, Midoriya-san. Is there anything else we can help you with?"

"No, you've done so much already. I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Aizawa-san can take you to the entrance. I'll send you an email to confirm the appointment and tell you when to arrive."

Gathering up her things, Inko said her goodbyes to Nezu and Shuzenji before following Aizawa out of the room. This time, the pro hero walked more slowly, looking behind him once in a while with a concerned expression. Each time they came to a corner, he made sure no one was in the hallways. The path was a different one, winding past large, closed-off buildings and open fields.

When they arrived at a small gate at the rear of the school, Aizawa paused. "This is the back entrance. After all that, I figured you wouldn't want to deal with all the vultures lurking outside the school.

It took Inko a few moments to realize that Aizawa meant the reporters. "Yes, thank you. I don't think I want to end up in a newspaper looking like this."

Aizawa smiled, but it was strained. "I am so sorry for everything you and your son have been through." He pulled up a sleeve, revealing a few scars of his own. "I know what it's like."

"Will he be okay?" Inko asked.

"He's a tough kid. And honestly, he has the potential to be an amazing hero." He had a determined gleam in his eye when he said, "I'll make sure of it."

"I wish I had seen it sooner. If I had…"

"It's not your fault. That much, I'm sure of." He scowled and added, "If anything, it's whichever incompetent idiot was running his prep school, for letting it get this bad. If any students at U.A. try to harass him, I'll see to it that they are expelled at the minimum."

"Good. I could tell that his old teachers never really cared, but I didn't think there was anything I could do about it. I'm glad he finally has a good teacher." Wiping away a stray tear, she said, "Thank you, and have a good day, Aizawa-san."

When Izuku came home, Inko almost confronted him on the spot. Seeing the long sleeves of his school uniform, knowing what was hiding beneath them, brought fresh tears to her eyes, but she wiped them away before her son could see.

"You know," she said shakily, "I want you to know that I'm proud of you. I didn't believe you could be a hero, but you did it. You made it to U.A. And I want you to know, I'll do whatever I can to support your dream."

She didn't know how she expected her son to react, but his indifferent nod felt like the cruelest answer possible. "Thanks mom. I'm glad you think so."

Izuku went to his room, training some more, from the sound of stomping feet and heavy breathing behind his door. One week, she just had to pull through for one week, and they could sort this all out. It had taken her far too long, but she finally got the help her son needed.

Nezu had another conference room waiting when Recovery Girl kicked them both out. Nezu reached for his cup, only to find he had left it in the other room.

"What a bother," he said idly. "I hope it doesn't get cold before we go back."

Aizawa took a seat and folded his arms. "I thought we weren't going to approach his mother."

"She approached me. Good thing she did. I had thought that she was helping her son hide his Quirk, but I see now that she's as in the dark as we are."

"Is that good or bad?"

Nezu grimaced. "Very bad. The fact that he managed to keep those scars a secret from his own mother for so long speaks to how well he can hide things, and it also points to possible trust issues. Getting Izuku to admit he has a Quirk, let alone confide the details of its use and limitations, will be nearly impossible."

Aizawa drummed his fingers on the table, looking down with an uneasy countenance. "I feel bad for her. We dropped one hell of a bombshell on her, and we still haven't told her about his mystery Quirk."

"I'm afraid we won't be doing that today."

An edge crept into Aizawa's voice. "Why not?"

"For one, all our evidence is circumstantial. While we could use Tsukauchi to resolve the matter, the situation's too delicate for such a hammer, so to speak. Second, if Midoriya-kun were to catch wind of our suspicions, it may make him flee. Considering that he has an information-based Quirk of equal or greater magnitude of my own, with unknown function and characteristics, I shudder to imagine how difficult it would be to track him down. He could disappear entirely, or worse yet, team up with villains."

"So, what are we going to do? We can't tell his mother, we can't confront him, all we're doing is waiting for something to happen. What are we even waiting for?"

"More information. I've been keeping tabs on Midoriya-kun's activity, and what I've seen so far is… worrying. His behavior has been highly out of character since starting classes at U.A. His academic performance has greatly improved, and he's socializing far more than the limited information I've gotten from Aldera would suggest, going so far as to meet with multiple classmates off campus."

"For the past three days, he has gone out with three members of the class – Todoroki, Ojiro, and Ashido. Of those, both Ojiro and Ashido filed requests for new support gear today. On a hunch, I decided to ask them where they got the ideas for their gear, and both of them told me that it was Midoriya's idea."

"He's known in his class for his thorough Quirk analysis," Aizawa said. "It's no surprise that his classmates would want his advice."

"True, but Ojiro had a more interesting tale to tell. He had insisted on not using equipment at all, but Midoriya warned him that if he didn't, someone would die."

Aizawa leaned forward, thinking the implications of what Nezu said. "So, is it a predictive Quirk after all?"

"Possible. Again, there's not much we know. What worries me is why his behavior has radically changed." Nezu scratched at the side of his face as his attention wandered. "If he was worried we suspected he had a Quirk, the last thing he would do is draw attention to himself, which means there has to be something else going on. Whatever the reason, I fear we'll find out soon enough."

Worried by Nezu's tone of voice, Aizawa decided to change the subject. "Have you figured anything out about his Quirk?"

"Nothing so far. However, Midoriya-san gave us a good hint."

"The change in emotions."

"Exactly. I'd wager that it marks the activation of his Quirk. Whatever it is, it caused a significant change to his emotional state."

"All the more reason to get him counseling," Aizawa said grimly. "I know you didn't want to single him out, but after hearing this…"

"I agree, and I think today will give us a wonderful opportunity to make it happen."

Aizawa blinked in surprise. "You're going to suggest it to her?"

"I will. I'd like to think that it would be enough to get Midoriya-kun to open up to us, but I doubt we'd be so lucky. It will be enough to at least get a better understanding of his emotional state. In time, that might help us solve this riddle."

As it turned out, Recovery Girl had already suggested counseling, and Midoriya Inko had enthusiastically agreed. To Aizawa's relief, they finally had a set date for a counseling session. They finally had the chance to help such a promising student.

Considering how disheveled Midoriya-san appeared, Aizawa led her out the back, making sure no one saw her. Before parting ways with her, he tried to reassure her as best as he could. From the sad smile on her face, he felt it might have been enough. It tore at his heart, knowing that they were hiding Izuku's Quirk from her. For a moment, he felt tempted to tell her what he knew, but he couldn't deny Nezu's logic. He watched in silence as Midoriya Inko walked the winding, lonely path back to the school's parking lot.

A/N: today feels like a game of Russian roulette. I'm on-call for work for four hours before my shift starts, and I'm praying I don't get that call. I don't think I will, but if I do, today's gonna suck.

This chapter overall was a little on the shorter side, but I felt that adding more would make it feel bloated. Hopefully, the extra little bit after this will make up for it.

Speaking of that, as the notice said, an excerpt for material added to chapter two was added. I've been debating for a while now whether or not to add an extra drawback to Izuku's Quirk, and finalizing certain scenes made up my mind. As much as I don't like changing things once they're written, I felt that this was important enough to break that rule.

To Yamajiji, it'd be pretty cruel of Izuku to leave someone hanging when he knows he's going to kick the bucket in a week.

To Dased22, part of the editing I did was to make it clearer what Izuku's new fate would be. It's only changed because Aizawa messed with his Quirk. Hope that helps.

To ImThePerson, I feel that I'm going to have my hands full just with 1-A. They'll be around, but not a major part of the story. At least, that's the plan for now. Lord knows half my writing is done by the seat of my pants.

To elc, I'm glad you feel I'm doing a great job with the characters. I intended for there to be diversity of opinions to drive more interpersonal conflicts later on. Everyone agreeing and being nice is too boring.

To DemonKittyAngel, looks like someone has a precognitive Quirk of their own. Kudos.

Chapter Two: Blackout - Rewrite

Izuku could feel himself breaking on the inside. As his future crept outward, he was five again, rolling on the floor as ten years of bullying and a death by suffocation played out while the All Might video played on loop above him. Two fingers on his left hand snapped, and he could feel shards of bone grinding against one another as he moved his hand. Izuku choked on his scream. Desperate to break away from the crowd before the pain got worse, he took the out his Quirk showed him. "I – I need to use the restroom. Is that okay?"

Eraserhead studied him carefully, with an emotion on his face that Izuku couldn't read. "Make it quick. We have work to do."

"Yes sir!"

Izuku sprinted to the nearest restroom, locked the stall, and collapsed onto the toilet seat. Sobs broke out of him, and tears ran down his face as the future spread outward. A dull echo of the pain from breaking fingers lingered in his left hand, and his right itched from a burn. As his future crept outward, exhaustion deadened his muscles, making him too weak to move. Each day of his new future weakened him, until he felt a bone-deep exhaustion that made him want to close his eyes.

The panic he had held back with everything he had came rushing in full-force, a feeling of helplessness and confusion from having his entire future ripped out from under him like a tablecloth. He couldn't imagine how people could live like that, not knowing what their every action would entail, how to speak, how to act, where to walk, every minute detail laid out for him in a picture-perfect script. The anger and fear of the present grappled with the exhaustion of the future, sending his heart into an arrhythmic patter.

The future had changed. Again. He still wasn't sure what had happened the first time, but this time, his Quirk had been erased. For just a moment, he couldn't see what he was supposed to do. He had messed up. He had given in to panic, and now, Eraserhead knew he had a Quirk, a Quirk Izuku wasn't supposed to show him, and somehow, it had changed what was supposed to happen.

Anger simmered inside Izuku. For the first time in his life, he felt that he could hate a hero. Even Endeavor, for all his sour attitude and rudeness, could be respected for his tireless efforts to apprehend villains, but his teacher changed his mind about how much Izuku was worth because he had a Quirk. He was supposed to expel him, bottom of the class, Quirkless, weak loser he was. The only thing that could have changed his mind was his Quirk. It explained the sudden shift in his future perfectly.

As he huddled into a ball on the toilet, chest bursting with anger and hysteria, his new death came to him. A swirling black void, villains on a ship, a nightmarish monster with unfocused eyes, a hand reaching for him from darkness, the classmates and heroes gathered at the center plaza, safe, the villains ready to retreat.

Izuku felt his skull ripping itself apart. Each fleck of skin, flesh, and bone that turned to dust drove another lance of pain through his head. Izuku stuffed a hand in his mouth, stifling the scream that tore itself from his throat.

After what felt like an eternity, the pain stopped. Izuku picked himself up off the bathroom floor with shaking arms, breathing deeply. Tooth marks bit painfully into his hand, almost drawing blood, but the pain was distant, numbed by his having felt it already.

Two weeks. He had two weeks to prepare before villains will attack his school and try to kill his classmates and his teacher. He didn't have time to cry. He washed his face in the sink and let his hair hang low to hide his puffy, red eyes. On his way back to class, he took a detour to the library and checked out a book on sign language.

Izuku hoped that, this time, that the future wouldn't change on him.