I'd like to thank all you wonderful people who decided to take the time out of their day to come and read my little story here. So first things first, this is not going to be a crossover. The only similarities that this story will share with the Marvel Universe is Izuku coming up with the idea to build Doctor Octopus's arms.

DISCLAMER: Let me be clear that I own nothing at all in this story here, and all rights to the characters within go towards their respective owners.

Call me Doc Ock.

Chapter 1

From Humble Beginnings

Foamy water crashed against the shore of the beach, drenching the massive conglomeration of sand covered garbage in a fresh coat of salt water, adding onto the ever-forming layer of rust that encased the outside of any and all metallic objects in the area. Rats scurried between the massive spires of refuse, instinctively seeking shelter from the seagulls that swooped down from above, landing in search of food scraps to munch on. They too, soon scattered back into the orange-hued sky as a lanky skeleton masquerading as a human trudged his way past the trash heaps, pulling a rusty, but still usable, wheelbarrow behind him. Its tire was entirely flat, one of the waterlogged wooden handles was split, and the barrow itself had several holes punctured throughout it due to a truly massive amount of rust, but it still functioned.

Stopping in the middle of what was best described as a crevice between the massive walls of trash on all sides, the man reached into the wheelbarrow and grabbed a slab of sheet metal he had bought from the store earlier, dropping it down onto the ground without much ceremony. He repeated the process until there was a mostly flat surface on the ground, certainly there was enough space to suit his purposes. Dragging his mostly unused phone from his pocket, the man sighed as he looked at the time. The one he had been watching for the past week or so would be arriving soon.

Quickly gathering another few slabs of sheet metal, the man jogged towards the dilapidated wooden ramp that connected the beach to the city behind it, allowing beachgoers an easy access point down from the dunes and into the waters below. Not that it really mattered, truth be told. No one came to this beach anymore, besides the man and he one he watched anyways.

Slamming the sheet metal down, the man created a pathway from the beach ramp that connected all the way back to the previous clearing he had set up moments ago. Satisfied, he nodded and jogged away, leaving behind the wheelbarrow and the remaining bits of sheet metal with a small note that simply read 'for you, from a friend'. The skeleton began to pick up his pace, eager to be gone from the area but desiring to remain close enough to see the boy's reaction. Finding a nicely sized bush just a short distance away, the man ran forward, crouched behind it, and pulled a small pair of binoculars from his exceptionally baggy cargo pants. A smile graced the skeleton's thin lips as he began to see the outline of the one he had been… observing… for a while now, in the distance.

It definitely wasn't stalking.

Not in the slightest.

It was the little things the man did that brought a smile to his heart, seeing true joy in the faces of others. That's not to say when he saved people he didn't see the same looks of joy, but it was… different. There was little time for fanfare in hero work, at least in the heat of things, and when heroes and celebrities were pretty much synonymous, it became a bit confusing. Seeing the excited smiles of someone you just saved from being murdered asking you for an autograph can… take away a bit of the majesty of the situation. No doubt they were happy to be alive, but the smile could come out forced, or… twisted.

No one wants to look bad in front of a celebrity after all.

For that reason, he liked to do these little acts of kindness, out of sight, and out of mind. People wouldn't feel like they had to express their undying support and appreciation for the one who assisted them, and the skeleton got to see the smiles he so desperately wanted everyone to have on their face.

That was why he had observed the child for so long before deciding to step in and lend a helping hand; he'd never seen a smile on the boy's face, not once, in all the time he'd spent observing him.

It wasn't stalking. Really.

Still, it was quite obvious why he wasn't happy, and the skeleton had fixed it! The poor boy couldn't make it down onto the beach with all that sand in the way, it'd impede his mobility!

So, when he saw the green haired boy he'd been observing for the past week reach the beach ramp with a large bruise on his face and tears rolling down his eyes, the skeleton felt the spot where his stomach used to be plummet.

The fact that his wheelchair looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to it as well, with its bent wheels, missing handlebar and similarly missing armrest, its footrests also wildly bent out of shape, his smile disappeared too.

It nearly came back when he saw the child look down the ramp in wonderment at the pathway now laid out before him in the sand, finally allowing the boy access to the beach he could only previously stare at longingly, confined to the paved sidewalk above the dunes where his wheelchair could safely traverse.

But it wasn't quite enough.

Standing up from his hiding place amongst the bushes, the man briskly walked back over to the beach ramp even as the child somehow managed to force his battered chair down the rickety walkway, its bent wheel still obeying the commands sent to it by the boy pushing forward on the electric chair's joystick. The mop-headed child had gotten to the bottom of the walkway by the time the skeleton reached it, and was tentatively about to cross the threshold of rotten wood onto sandy sheet metal before a bony hand came to rest upon the child's own, somewhat similarly skinny hand.

He should've asked the child to politely stop.

He should've asked the important questions, like what happened to his chair, or what happened to his face.

But one look at his eyes up close told the skeleton all he needed to know. The kid wasn't going to answer anything without clamming up. He already looked like he was about to have a panic attack. So, the skeleton did what he always did when he saw someone who felt unsure, or scared, or nervous.

He smiled.

"Hello, my boy," he spoke softly at first, trying to sound reassuring. The same voice one might use when talking to a child who broke something inconsequential for the first time, and was far more scared of the consequences than the situation warranted. Patting the bent wheel of the chair, he joked, "Why don't I give you a bit of a push across this pathway here, hrm? Wouldn't want this bucket of bolts to get stuck and wind up as part of this beautiful landscape, now would we?"

There was a pause.

A thousand things flashed behind those exceptionally bright viridian eyes as the child stared into the sunken blue orbs of the skeleton, searching for the hidden meaning behind the words. The boy wasn't stupid, he knew anybody with eyes could clearly tell what had happened. The true question was why would anyone care?

He knew from the skeleton's smile that he was avoiding it on purpose. Not because he didn't care, but because he was intelligent. He understood. If he managed to get all the way down to the beach in this situation, no one else cared enough to do anything about it. For what reasons could be debated upon later, right know he didn't need that information. He simply understood that the cat wouldn't be coming out of the bag without a fight.

The boy flashed a watery smile, sniffling as more tears traveled down his face.

"Thank you…"

It was simple, to the point, and conveyed the necessary information to the skeleton. It was both an acknowledgment of the situation, and additionally served as acceptance towards the man's offer.

Nodding, he got behind the child and placed one hand on the remaining handlebar, and another on the… seemingly burnt leather backing of the chair. Why was it singed? It looked like an explosion had gone off on the chair from this angle.

"Wipe those tears off my boy, you'll hardly be able to see the ocean if you've already got one in your eyes!"

A mix between a few sobs, a hiccup, and a chuckle escaped the mouth of the child, who nodded his head downwards, pointing it to the yellow backpack on his lap. The small metallic pin of All Might on the bag nearly kept the smile on his face for a little longer.

But looking at how the bag appeared to have been through an explosion and then tossed through an industrial meat grinder, it was all the skeleton could do to keep from frowning further.

"I-I-I… I want t-to b-but…" He stuttered, unsure of how to voice his issue. It was always hard explaining his quirk to others. "M-my t-tissues are r-right there a-after all b-but… I-I c-can't m-move my a-arms..."

"My boy…" The skeleton started, and sighed, he was going to have to ask at this point if it was that bad.

"I-ITS MY QUIRK!"

The skeleton's eyes widened at the sudden shout, and then widened even further as he observed what appeared to be… white strands of wet spaghetti pop up from under the boy's collar on his school uniform.

He idly wondered if the boy got in trouble for popping his collar up like that and not keeping it folded. The skeleton had seen popped collars on jackets and shirts all over the place in America, but it wasn't really 'in style' in Japan.

Still, there were more pressing matters at hand.

Namely oddly mobile spaghetti dancing on the boy's neck.

"M-my q-quirk i-isn't r-r-really special…" he began, the noodles sliding back underneath the protection of the boy's popped collar. Perhaps that was why he kept it popped? The noodles were visible on the back of his neck and he wanted to keep it covered?

Shaking his head, the skeleton grunted, acknowledging the boy's remark. Nodding himself, the boy continued.

"I-I…" the boy began, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before continuing, thankfully without as much of a stutter. "I have c-complete control over the nervous system in my body. I-I can r-rapidly grow it, e-expand it, tie it in knots, m-make it exit my body…"

The skeleton blinked.

This was related to the issue how exactly…?

"A-As you c-can see, I'm a bit s-stuck in this wheelchair. I-I had an… a-a… a-an accident… when I was younger, and m-my neck was broken... I-, I mean… my, er… I-I broke m-my neck. T-the… a-a-accident… c-completely severed m-my spinal cord f-from the neck down…"

At this point, the skeleton had very nearly reached his self-made clearing, but had slowed to a complete stop at the boy's admission.

Severed from the neck down? But he was piloting his electric wheelchair just fine…

"M-my h-hand…" the boy mumbled, causing the skeleton to stare down at the boy's arms. One of them was just… hanging limply at his side, next to the non-bent wheel on the left side of his chair, no longer supported by the now missing armrest. Casting his gaze to the right side, the man was somewhat surprised to notice that the child's hand was actually lightly tied to the chair itself, a small cotton string keeping his wrist bound to the remaining armrest, his fingers splayed outwards on it. As he observed, he noticed the white noodles he had seen coming from the boy's back emerged from the tips of his fingers, moving forward to press what remained of his chair's toggle forward, eliciting a similar movement from the busted chair as it struggled to obey its orders.

Before the skeleton could voice the exceptionally large number of questions that were now floating in his head, the boy spoke once again.

"A-a g-good thing a-about my quirk i-is that… since I can c-control my n-nervous system… I-I can stop s-sensory information f-from traveling t-to my brain, s-so I-I can stop m-myself f-from feeling pain. I-its w-why I can e-extend and m-manipulate my n-nervous system k-kind of l-like an appendage. N-not t-that it can do m-much really, n-nerves d-don't really h-have muscle strength to b-back them up. J-just pushing f-forward on my c-chair's joystick i-is a p-pretty big strain…"

More questions than answers continued to pop up within the skeletons mind, but he was able to still lightly push the once again mobile chair forwards, and finally entered into the clearing he had created, isolated from the rest of the world thanks to the mountains of trash that surrounded them on all sides.

He'd just wanted to allow the child the chance to drive his electric wheelchair onto the beach so he could observe the waves up close…

How did things come to this?

"A-after t-the accident… t-the first thing I t-tried to do was r-reconnect the remains of my n-nervous system w-with the severed b-bits…" The child mumbled, catching the attention of the skeleton once again as he struggled to process all the information being thrown onto him. "B-but, I-I don't know… I-I c-couldn't f-figure it out. I-its not like t-there's a s-slot or something w-where I can just plug my nerves back into…"

Satisfied that the child seemed to be alright in the center of his makeshift clearing, and not rolling away due to any slight inclines, the skeleton allowed himself to circle around to the front of the chair and sat himself down on the sheet metal, staring expectantly at the child in a clear invitation to continue.

He really did try to keep the smile on his face.

The green haired kid took another short, shaky breath as he steadied himself, the skeleton just now truly observing the form of the child in front of him. Actually, looking at it, studying him.

He was a bit on the skinny side, but the skeleton supposed that was to be expected. He didn't look starved or anything, he could probably stand to eat a bit more, but the clear lack of any and all muscle definition certainly exacerbated the problem. Still, it may have stood to reason, being confined to a wheelchair and apparently unable to move… anything at all from the neck down… would certainly make things like eating, much less exercise, exceptionally difficult.

He'd never observed the kid in depth before, just noticed he came down to the beach every day after school, stayed at the top of the entryway ramp, and frowned. He'd never truly noticed how… immobile the kid was.

He seemed to be able to swivel his head around pretty good, and to mostly have a full range of motion there, but the rest of him was just… limp.

It didn't budge.

The skeleton nearly gasped as he remembered the boy's limply hanging arm, no longer having an armrest to support it and simply hanging uselessly off to the side. Without even thinking, he had grabbed the arm and gingerly placed it onto the boy's lap, tucking it underneath the backpack so it wouldn't be going anywhere.

The boy smiled.

The skeleton found himself unable to return it.

"I-I know how it l-looks, a-and how t-this is going to s-sound… b-but y-you really j-just caught m-me on a b-bad day."

The skeleton found himself staring back at the boy, fully ready to issue a rebuttal and quite possibly release a few scathing words of his own before the boy spoke once more.

"W-we b-both know what h-happened t-t-to me today… b-but its n-not like this is n-normal… n-no one e-else cared a-about me b-because I actually am pretty a-accident p-prone," he began, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. "I a-actually b-busted up my old w-wheelchair w-way worse than this when I took it down a s-skateboard ramp a few m-months ago…"

After what felt like eternity to the man, a small smile was able to grace itself upon the lips of the skeleton. Normally he would've been pretty suspicious, and he most certainly still was, but this kid… really didn't seem to have the capability to lie. If there was one thing the skeleton prided himself upon, it was his ability to read others.

While the kid's body may be limp and immobile, those large, bright, viridian eyes sparkled and gleamed in just the right way to let the skeleton know that this kid wasn't perfect. He had a slew of problems beyond just his status as a quadriplegic. His currently battered physical state was a sign of it as well.

But… he also saw hope. Curiosity. A fiery passion that burned right behind the child's eyes, a sure sign of some long-held conviction that had never been given up, despite having innumerable obstacles thrown in the way.

This kid… was a fighter.

"Yagi."

The child's smile disappeared, replaced with an expression of confusion.

"My name. Yagi Toshinori." Once again standing, the skeleton leaned over and placed a bony hand upon the child's small shoulder, the act of reassurance met with a small smile.

"O-oh! U-uhh… M-Midoriya. Midoriya I-Izuku…" the green haired child stammered out, averting his eyes from the skeleton's own. Suddenly, his eyes widened and the teen's gaze shot down to his immobilized hand.

Toshinori's gaze soon followed and observed as the child's nervous system which had sprouted from his fingertips attempted to tug backwards on his wheelchair's toggle, succeeding in the endeavor he might add, but no movement was elicited from the machine. The wheels twitched a bit, but they didn't seem to be budging at all, and a quick glance at the ground around the tires confirmed they weren't stuck on anything.

"I-I… I t-think my b-battery is dying…"

Toshinori thought the more logical explanation would be that the child's wheelchair had finally given up, the clear abuse it suffered finally taking a toll and draining the last bit of life from the device. He could already see clear fright cross through the child's eyes as they darted around the beach, unsure of how to continue.

The child mumbling at about a mile a minute about getting home on time and something about homework gave a few hints to the skeletal man as well. He supposed it was only natural however, without that chair the boy was, as rude and as awful as it was to think it, about as mobile as a sack of potatoes. Toshinori tried to squeeze the kid's shoulder lightly to drag his attention back towards the man, but his efforts were ignored.

Wait… the kid was paralyzed. He probably couldn't feel anything at all below his neck…

"Young Midoriya," wide, frantic green eyes snapped up to electric blue, as Toshinori gave a reassuring smile to the child. "Please, allow me to bring you home. I have my truck nearby, we can easily load your chair in the back." He explained, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to some unseen location behind the mounds of trash.

The skeletal figure held up a hand to stop the complaints and protests about to spew outwards from this Midoriya child's mouth, his piece unfinished.

"Think on it for a bit. You did just get here after all. Come, relax. Enjoy the beach! I… imagine it's been awhile since you've been this close to the ocean." He finished, arms spread wide to gesture to the majesty of the ocean behind him, the setting sun casting a beautiful reddish-orange reflection across the seawater, tinting it with new colors.

He nearly coughed up some blood as he remembered all the trash that impeded the view, but it was a little bit late for that tidbit of information to stop him.

Still, when the child smiled with even more tears welling up from the corner of his eyes, another beautiful smile gracing his lips, Toshinori knew he had managed to say all the right things. The boy merely nodded, and gracefully closed his mouth, turning his watery gaze outwards towards the horizon.

Toshinori stood by the child's side, hand on his shoulder, as he too gazed outwards, his thoughts flittering about much like the birds that soared across the sky. The very fleeting thought of passing on his quirk to the child before him flashed through his mind, but the skeleton quickly squashed it.

Firstly, he didn't know the boy all that well, but he did understand that he possessed a drive, and a powerful one at that. He had seen it in the child's eyes. He readily admitted to himself that if the boy wasn't as… immobilized as he was, he might've considered trying to push the child into considering hero work.

Not that that ever really needed to happen, everyone had dreams of being a hero at some point, and Toshinori was sure the boy was no different. With Midoriya's current state, however…

If his quirk came with a healing factor, Toshinori would've been sorely tempted to relinquish it to the boy then and there but sadly, fate seemed to be playing a cruel game.

The skeletal man knew that One for All had the capability of boosting the strength of its user's own Quirks, his predecessor and former Master's Quirk, Float, while initially fairly weak, became tantamount to a flight Quirk after being gifted One for All.

The child didn't seem to have the capability to regenerate the damaged tissue however, even though he demonstrated the ability to seemingly create more of it, and even expand it through his body. The words Midoriya spoke earlier rang out through his mind.

'I-its not like t-there's a s-slot or something w-where I can just plug my nervous system into…'

It all clicked within Toshinori's mind.

The child had the ability to create more nerves from the remaining, unsevered, healthy tissue that resided within his neck, but the severed nerves below his injury were beyond saving. When the boy mentioned how he couldn't just plug his nervous system back into itself, he must've meant two things.

Firstly, and most obviously, he tried to just jam his healthy nerves into the damaged ones and go from there. If that didn't work, which it quite obviously didn't, the boy most likely attempted to simply grow his nervous system out like the original, and replace the entire thing with a brand new, healthy version.

But, as he mentioned, it wasn't like he could just plug it in.

How would a child know how to attach nerve cells into muscle cells, or form any of the various intricate, microscopic connections that even Toshinori hadn't the faintest of ideas about. Biology was never Toshinori's strong suit, but he understood that the body was an incredibly complex machine. Tacking wild and wacky quirks onto the already complicated subject was tantamount to an unsolvable riddle.

The second glaring issue with providing the child with his quirk, was his physical state. Quite frankly, the child wouldn't be able to handle the sheer power of One for All, he was far, far too frail. The only reason Toshinori was able to contain it was because his body had years to adjust to the massive amounts of power coursing through his veins, and even though his current 'true' form was that of an emaciated skeleton, he was able to utilize his quirk to bulk his body back up to its original form, if only for short periods of time.

There was simply no way the similarly skeletal Izuku would be able to handle the power without blowing his limbs off.

Toshinori nearly punched himself in the face as he idly thought that it didn't really matter, since the kid didn't really have a use for his limbs anyways, but it did highlight the second issue with his weak body.

It would be nearly impossible to bulk up, and then maintain that bulk.

Through no fault of his own, Midoriya was immobile. He wouldn't be able to gain much muscle without serious assistance, and even then, there was no guarantee that One for All's quirk-boosting capabilities would be sufficient to allow the boy to either reattach his damaged nerves to his healthy ones, or create a new, functional nervous system.

Toshinori's eyes narrowed.

It didn't matter if the child couldn't inherit his quirk. He already had a candidate in mind for that anyways, but he wasn't just going to forget about this kid. The look in his vibrant eyes, the bright smile… it all reminded him of himself.

He was going to help this kid out.

How?

He'd figure that out later. He already had a few ideas floating around his skull. He could probably pay Powerloader to rig up a nice wheelchair for the kid, that could make for a pleasant surprise. Make sure to have the joystick be extra sensitive, maybe have a space in the armrest for his arm to sit inside so it didn't need to be tied in place… yeah.

That could work.

A startled gasp jerked Toshinori out of his thoughts as the kid frantically looked down at his bag, a few tendrils of his nervous system shooting out of his neck like needles and diving inside the yellow pack.

He frowned as he noticed the small amount of blood coating the tips of the mobile nerves, further cementing the fact that the kid didn't have any regenerative capabilities. He was simply abusing his immunity to pain in order for his nervous system to literally cut its way out from under the confines of his skin.

"Please, let me. What do you need?" Toshinori inquired, resting his hand on the destroyed bag. The child hesitated, staring up at the man, before casting his gaze downwards and retracting the nerves back inside his body.

"M-my phone… I-I… I keep a backup one in the front right pocket of my bag. I-its not like a-a regular phone. I-its one of those Bluetooth earbud things? V-very tiny…"

Toshinori nodded, understanding the boy's meaning. It wasn't as if the kid would be able to manipulate a phone around in order to utilize it properly. Or could he? He'd have to ask what his nervous system was capable of doing later, all he knew right know was the boy said it was a small struggle to just push forward on his wheelchair's joystick.

The skeleton frowned as he fished the earpiece out of the bag.

Or at least, all five pieces of what remained of it. The device, much like the bag, had been destroyed.

Toshinori grabbed his own phone out of his pocket and nodded at the boy, just now noticing how dark it had become. The sun had finally set moments ago, and the crisp night blew around them, the only illumination available being the moonlight reflecting off the ocean's surface.

"I presume you have stayed out later than intended?"

The boy nodded and sagged his head, clearly ashamed. He flinched back, but didn't protest, when a bony hand found its way inside the tangled green mess atop his head, ruffling the hair around.

"Don't fret, young Midoriya, I have done the same. I… didn't realize just how late it was. If you give me a number I can call home and explain the situation?" he offered, phone still in his offhand. Before the boy could protest, the skeleton added onto his argument. "Would you be capable of holding a conversation with your parents in a state like this?"

The boy sagged further in his chair, but didn't disagree. Instead he mumbled out a series of numbers that the skeleton dialed into his keypad, before pressing the talk button and placing the speaker to his ear.

The device rang four times before it was picked up, a shaky female voice emanating outwards from the speaker.

"H-hello? T-this is Inko Midoriya speaking. I… I'm sorry but this isn't really the best time for—"

"Mrs. Midoriya? Hello. My name is Toshinori Yagi and I was just calling to inform you that I have your son with me here, safe and sound." He heard what sounded like a cup shatter on the ground as soon as the words left his mouth, and he was forced to pull the phone away from his ear as the woman all but screamed through the speaker.

"YOU HAVE MY BABY BOY?! I-IS HE ALRIGHT? WHERE ARE YOU?! WHATS GOING ON!?"

"M-Mrs. Midoriya please…" Toshinori stammered. It was always hard talking to parents whenever their kids were involved. It was one of the many things he was not looking forward to doing with his new job as a teacher, "I assure you that young Midoriya is fine, I was just about to take him home. As for why he was out so late, I must apologize for my actions, as they are the reason for your son's tardiness."

He noticed Izuku look up at him, a questioning tinge flashing across his eyes.

"…go on…" the phone buzzed, the Midoriya matriarch temporarily placated. Breathing out the air Toshinori had been unaware he was holding in, he continued.

"I've… noticed your son coming down to the beach after school, but never venturing down past the walkway," Toshinori felt he didn't need to explain why the boy never ventured down, and the child didn't seem to be horrified or bothered by his admission of the boy's travels to the beach, so he felt assured that the mother was aware in some capacity of her son's movements.

"Ah… yes… I-Izuku always did like the beach when he was… younger…" Toshinori frowned at the tone of voice with which the mother spoke, but he understood the meaning. Izuku liked to go to the beach when he was younger… and mobile.

"Yes… well, I felt that the boy should be allowed to… get a closer look as it were, so I was here today building a small walkway for your son's wheelchair to travel across."

He tried to keep his face straight, he really did. He was trying to be serious. But the way the boy looked at him and smiled when he heard that it was this skeletal matchstick man that had labored away just to make a pathway for a wheelchair bound child… it was too much.

Toshinori grinned.

It quickly disappeared as he realized he had zoned out for a bit. He had, hadn't he? He didn't recall hearing anything coming out of the phone's speaker, but it had undoubtedly been at the very least several long seconds since the woman on the other end spoke.

His palms started to sweat.

He did not want to ask the woman to repeat herself.

"…w-what?" the speaker buzzed.

Now it was Toshinori's turn to pause for a few seconds. He had to repeat himself? Was he not clear?

"I… I built a small walkway for your son's wheelchair?"

"… could you put I-Izuku on the phone, please…?"

The skeletal man quickly complied, offering the phone to the young man beside him.

For the second time that day, he just about punched himself in the face as he quickly slapped the button that turned on the speakerphone in a desperate attempt to cover his mistake as a deliberate action.

The boy stared at the phone with wide green eyes before swallowing, clearly nervous about the prospect of talking with his no doubt furious mother. After another second, he did manage to gather the courage to speak.

"… H-hi mom… I-I'm alright, I'm just a-at the beach w-with Mr. Yagi… m-my uh… my chair's battery died…" There was quite the audible sigh of relief, slightly tinged with static as the phone translated the sound.

"Izuku… you know you should just call me if that happens, I could come pick you up. You can still press the buttons on your earpiece with your nerv- er… quirk, right?" she complained, not satisfied with the answer.

"My uh… earpiece broke… s-so did my b-backup…"

"Izu—"

"Not to worry!" Toshinori quickly cut into the conversation, he himself wanted to leave the beach and he could tell that this conversation wasn't going to end anytime soon at this rate. Setting his phone down upon the lap of the green-haired boy, he turned and began to drag the wheelchair behind him as he left the metallic walkway and trudged through the sand, precious cargo still inside the chair.

By itself, the chair likely would've gotten caught in the sand, unable to gain the traction necessary to move itself forward. Due to being dragged by the surprisingly strong skeleton however, there was little to no issue in pulling the boy behind him as Toshinori made his way towards his truck.

"I'm heading back to my truck right now, and we'll chuck his chair in the back. Your son can give me directions to your house along the way."

"I…"

Toshinori butted back into the conversation before the woman could object further.

"Fear not, Mrs. Midoriya, I shall leave my phone on for the entire ride. We can continue to talk, and you can hear the directions your son provides and correct him should he be wrong. Besides, I can't imagine your son lives very far from Dagobah if he comes here every day after school." he assured.

Despite this, he could practically hear the mother gritting her teeth as she debated through the obvious actions of just heading down herself, calling the police, or some other unknown option. Eventually however, he heard another tired, static filled sigh as the mother relented.

Toshinori walked over to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door and rapidly stuffed the Silver Age Hero Costume that rested on the passenger seat into the glovebox, before turning and, as gently as possible, lifting the green haired teen from his wheelchair seat to set him down in the car seat. Taking a few liberties, he adjusted his legs and arms a bit in a way he felt looked comfortable, and was rewarded for his actions with a small smile and a nod. Lastly, he placed his phone on the dashboard as he buckled the child in and closed the door, moving on to the task of securing the wheelchair in his truck bed.

Idly, he could hear a few pieces of conversation between the boy and his mother as he hefted the chair into the back, laying it down on its side and sliding around a few pieces of scrap metal and other junk he had liberated from around the beach to stabilize it. At one point, the chair probably could've been folded up to be more compact, but it seemed a bit too damaged to attempt that at the moment.

Satisfied it wasn't going to be flying out the back of his truck bed, he wasn't planning on going onto the highway after all, he circled back around to the front and climbed inside, slid his key into the ignition, buckled himself in, and drove off.

He engaged in a bit of idle conversation along the way, mostly just a few formalities and explanations as for Toshinori's behavior, in addition to occasional directions from Izuku. The mother seemed… oddly emotional that the man had decided to build a walkway for her son. Perhaps he should've taken a few pictures of the path he'd made? It wasn't as if it was difficult. He literally just threw down a bunch of metal on the ground and let the sand hold it in place.

On the bright side, the mother did ease up considerably as the drive went on, as she began to infer that the man was indeed driving her son back to his home, and not like, kidnapping him.

He would never go for that, however. Only villains do that.

Sure enough, after about 10 or so minutes he had pulled into the parking lot of a fairly nondescript, beige apartment building. Not run-down, not anything special though either. Likely the family was lower-middle class.

Despite having just pulled into the parking lot, Toshinori could already see the boy's mother powerwalking towards the car, having quickly exited from a bottom-floor apartment. Well, he assumed this was the boy's mother anyways, the resemblance was uncanny.

She was seemingly middle-aged, maybe in her forties, with a somewhat lean figure with just a bit of weight on her, but not nearly enough to ever be considered chubby. He could practically see the muscle just underneath the surface of her arms. Still, it once again stood to reason. She likely had to pull a lot of weight, quite literally, around the house, and was probably responsible for taking care of Midoriya's everyday life, since he couldn't move around himself. Well, her and her husband anyways.

Toshinori had just barely stepped out of the car and closed the door before he suddenly felt his feet lifted off the ground and the air in his one remaining lung squeezed out of him by two deceptively powerful arms.

"THANK YOU FOR RETURNING MY PRECIOUS BABY BOY!" was additionally shouted at a volume loud enough to put Present Mic to shame, directly in Toshinori's ear.

Unfortunately, all of this startled the skeletal man something fierce, and while he had been proud that he'd managed not to cough up any blood at the beach earlier it all came spraying out full force at this point in time. The fact that one of the woman's hands had tightly smashed itself into his old wound when she hugged him certainly contributed to the sheer volume of it.

As quickly as he was picked up, he was dropped, as the woman backed away with fright in her eyes and… and blood on her arms. Toshinori could only idly process that information however, as he was a bit busy kneeling down on the ground, spitting up the rest of the crimson liquid that forced itself out of his mouth.

He never liked it when others saw him vulnerable like this.

Not only because it was a reminder of his shame, his weakness, but because it took away the smiles anyone had on them at the time. It wasn't a pretty sight to witness anyone coughing up blood, but when those people recognized that it was the number 1 hero himself that was vomiting the red liquid…

Well, let's just say that he hated the looks of pity. The sad eyes. He didn't work as hard as he did to become the Number One Hero to be greeted with the same sad smile one would give to their dying grandfather in a nursing home.

That's all he was now though, he supposed. A dying relic of times past. As much as he hated to admit it, his wound was killing him.

He winced as he recalled the words of his numerous doctors. How happy they had been. How they smiled and told him he was only dying slowly. As if that was a consolation prize. True, he wasn't dying any time soon. He had quite a few years left inside him, probably 15-20 of them. It was a good amount of time. More than enough to go and live the life of a civilian at some point after he eventually retired. Perhaps it was just knowing that he was going to eventually die of malnutrition or organ failure that upset him.

That was what he was told. He had to keep taking in vital nutrients and get the stuff necessary for his body to keep working, or he'd just literally starve to death. If that didn't get him… well eventually his heart or remaining lung would just give out, the two organs already working overtime as it was. Currently, he was only barely meeting the requirements his doctors had laid out for him. Eating was a… painful experience.

It saddened him as well that he could no longer eat his favorite foods either, nor in the large quantities he used to enjoy. Gone were the days of getting kicked out of all-you-can-eat buffets by angry owners; now he cooked for one and still somehow managed to get leftovers for two days from it.

A shaky hand rested on his back, snapping Toshinori out of his daze. Casting his sunken gaze behind him, he noticed the extremely concerned look of the Midoriya matriarch, trying and failing to hold back her own tears at the skeleton's situation. Or perhaps it was her son's…

Toshinori noted that her gaze kept flickering back and forth from him and the concerned boy in the passenger seat, who he could vaguely hear yelling something over the ringing in his ear, his mind still muddled a bit from the sudden shout. No doubt the mother had noticed the boy's bruised face, or perhaps his totaled wheelchair.

"…y-you asked me why I assisted your son, on the car ride back." The skeleton stated, drawing the mother's attention back to his lanky form. Standing up, he wiped the remaining trails of blood from the corner of his mouth and turned to face the clearly shaken woman. "Let's just say… he's not the only one here with his own health problems."

The green haired mother still looked shaken, her blood covered hand trailed down the man's similarly soaked arm and grabbed his angular hand. Looking into the truck, he could see the boy looked just as shaken, terrified by the sight he had witnessed. Sighing, Toshinori reached into his pocket and pulled out a few napkins and some hand sanitizer. Something he'd found was nice to carry around in public spaces…

"It's not your fault, I assure you. This… just happens every once in a while. Yes, I am receiving medical care for it. It's just something I have to live with now… and yes, I have practiced this speech."

Just as the mother and son's mouth had opened up, they both quickly clicked shut. Toshinori busied himself with cleaning the woman's skin off as best he could, but was unable to clean the fabric stained with the crimson liquid. A quick squirt of hand sanitizer, and the woman was looking… marginally less mortified than she had been a few moments ago.

"Go, get your son. It's alright." He smiled, praying to the gods that he had wiped all the blood off his teeth with his tongue. One had to have a large, genuine smile when trying to be reassuring, after all.

The mother's frowning visage informed him that he had failed.

Still, she nodded, pulling her hand away from the skeleton's and walking around to the passenger side, opening the door and scooping up the poor boy in her strong arms. She briskly walked back over to their apartment and pushed the door open with her foot, carrying the child inside and away from Toshinori's view.

Toshinori shuddered as he trudged to the back of his truck, taking care to not step in the puddle of blood that now rested in the parking lot. He quickly freed the battered wheelchair from the back, and set the contraption down on the ground, beginning to push the device over towards the apartment. About halfway to the door, the woman reappeared in a new, blood-less shirt and marched forward with a determined expression.

He noticed she was pushing an empty wheelchair in front of her.

"You. Sit." the woman commanded, staring with frightened eyes at the skeleton man. Still, those eyes held the same determination he recognized in the child on the beach. A drive. A passion. A motherly compulsion that Toshinori knew she'd never ignore.

And that compulsion was to not take no for an answer.

He was going to refuse, he really was. But before he could even open his mouth to protest the woman held out her open palm towards the man, and then closed it, almost as if she was squeezing a stress ball, all while pulling her arm back towards her body. The second she did Toshinori found himself stumbling forward, pulled by some unknown force, and quickly pivoted on his heel so his face wouldn't crash down into the chair.

With a light thud, the skeleton was surprised to find himself sitting inside the wheelchair, as the woman began tugging on one of the handlebars, dragging him back inside the family apartment in an almost exact replica of how Toshinori had earlier dragged young Midoriya back towards his truck on the beach. Casting his gaze away from the steely glare of the mother, who was currently busy attempting to burn a hole through her apartment's door with her eyes alone, the skeleton's redirected his sight to what was occurring in front of him, slightly surprised to find the young man's beat up wheelchair being pulled behind them as well through some unseen force; most likely the work of this woman's quirk, no doubt some form of telekinesis. Resigning himself to this fate, he sunk back into the chair and allowed himself to be dragged inside, not even bothering to try and stand up from the chair when the woman had left him inside their small living room to go and close the front door.

To his left, he could see the boy giving him a small, apologetic smile from his position on a rather plain looking couch, his arms folded together across his lap, and a pillow on both his sides, perhaps to stop him from falling over. Toshinori's gaze shot back towards the entry way when he heard the front door… close… with far more force than was necessary to achieve such an outcome.

He shuddered again.

Hell hath no fury like an upset mother.

The mother didn't acknowledge the two men cowering in the room, instead simply marching into the kitchen and pulling an ice pack and a hand-towel out of the freezer before finally coming back into the living room and sitting down next to her son. Izuku's position was changed once more, as the mother manipulated the boy so he'd be lying down beside her, his head on a pillow, allowing the woman to simply place the towel wrapped ice pack on the large purple bruise atop the boy's forehead. This elicited a small hiss, but otherwise he offered no other forms of resistance.

The boy averted his gaze from his mother's, unwilling to look her in the eye. Toshinori could only feel pity in his stomach, or where his stomach used to be; he had been paralyzed/immobilized by villains before while they decided to regale him with their master plan, tragic backstory, or some other asinine monologue, but this kid… he was stuck like that constantly. He wasn't going to get over it. When he was about to get yelled at by his own mother, the boy didn't even have the capability of considering the idea of running, he simply couldn't. He just had to sit there.

"If you try and pass this off as reckless driving with your wheelchair Izuku…" the mother began, her voice dangerously low. But Toshinori could see it in her eyes. The tears beginning to well up. Her quivering lip. The angry mother façade was rapidly slipping.

"I-it doesn't matter m-mom… t-the non-disclosure agreement…"

"DOES NOT APPLY TO ANY NEW INCIDENTS!" The woman screeched, causing both men in the room to shrink away from the furious woman. Just as quickly as the anger flared, the woman had thrown herself across her baby, hugging him tightly into her chest and crying into his hair.

The boy mimicked her actions with gusto.

Non-disclosure agreement…? As Toshinori began piecing together the puzzle that was Izuku Midoriya, he found himself upset as he noticed that it was getting bigger and bigger. Every time he completed some section of the design, more pieces appeared and he had to somehow make it all fit together correctly.

He was paralyzed from the neck down by an accident, and the skeleton was willing to bet that it was directly caused by someone. As for whether it was an accident or not… well… Toshinori was fairly certain that whoever did this hadn't meant to cause such serious damage. Quite frankly, just seemed like an exceptionally unfortunate case of Quirk misuse in the child's younger years, which was sadly becoming more and more common as time went on. Due to the nature of quirks manifesting suddenly and randomly at, generally speaking, around age 4, preschools could be quite the dangerous place.

School was risky when any number of your child's classmates could suddenly and without warning turn into a living, breathing inferno with eyes. Or begin to emit poisonous gas. Or… well, the point stands. Quirk manifestation had the potential to be a disastrous event.

It took several more minutes and several buckets of tears, but eventually the crying duo had separated from each other. Or rather Inko had separated herself from Izuku. Toshinori was quite certain Izuku would've been more than happy to separate earlier, but it's not like he had the capability of breaking off the hug on his own. The boy hadn't really moved for a while.

"We're going to talk more about this tomorrow, young man…" she sniffled, wiping her soaked face with an arm sleeve. "I won't bother you anymore tonight, but don't think this conversation is over."

For his part, Izuku merely hung his head and… well did nothing. It appeared the young man had fallen asleep within his mother's grasp.

Inko turned to the terrified skeleton man who had been forced to watch the spectacle without moving, his blue eyes further receding into the sunken pits they resided inside. Standing up, the women gingerly lifted her son and started to walk off towards a door that had an All-Might themed nameplate on it with a single word.

Izuku.

"I'll be right back, Mr. Yagi, I just need to help Izuku get ready for bed, if that's okay?" she questioned, but for whatever reason he wasn't entirely sure. It's not like she would've accepted any excuses that the man could come up with, so he instead mutely nodded his head in understanding.

Satisfied, Inko entered the room and Toshinori was briefly able to make out an All Might Poster hanging above a simple bed in the middle of the room.

That… that did bring a smile to his face. It was always nice to meet his fans. Especially when they were unaware of Toshinori's true identity. It was nice to hear the more soft-spoken praises people sang about him, as opposed to people loudly gushing and proclaiming undying admiration while trying to snap selfies.

Idly, the disguised pro hero began to glance around the room, observing all the photos, artwork, and other decorations around the place. It was a plain room, beige was the dominant color, with some very dark, dull greens and whites thrown into the mixture in the form of furniture and rugs. Eying a photograph that rested on the coffee table next to the couch Izuku was formerly imprisoned on, Toshinori noticed something peculiar.

The photograph had been cut at some point.

It was Izuku and his mother, in what appeared to be a park, or nature preserve, perhaps a hiking trail even, and was taken back before the boy had his accident as he was standing of his own volition. Inko stood immediately behind Izuku, one of her arms draped lovingly over his shoulder, a golden ring visible on her finger. Izuku meanwhile, was glancing at a figure that was standing off to the right side of the mother, smiling brightly. The only reason Toshinori noticed the photograph had been cut at all was the fact that the mother had part of her right shoulder missing from where the cut had been made, and the presence of a disembodied arm draped over the woman's shoulder, the one who it was connected to having been removed from the photograph thanks to the edit.

Toshinori didn't need to be a genius to figure out what happened there. Still, that explained why no father had come out to beat Toshinori for delaying their son from getting home.

Did he say beat? He meant greet. Yeah, greet him.

Shaking his head, the hero's gaze traveled downwards towards the tattered yellow remains of Midoriya's backpack, and he idly spotted a burned book that had halfway fallen out of the bag. Quickly looking at the young man's door to assure himself that the mother wouldn't be exiting at that moment in time, Toshinori quickly got up from the wheelchair, bent down to retrieve the book, and rapidly sat himself back into place. His eyes shot right back up to the door, pleased that the boy's mother hadn't appeared at that moment in time either.

He dreaded to imagine the dressing down he'd receive if he left the wheelchair before he was allowed to.

Shaking his head once more, Toshinori directed his attention to the remains of the book in front of him. While damaged, it looked like it had been lightly burned, and a few pieces of the cover and some shreds of paper were missing, it was still identifiable as a fairly cheap composition notebook one would likely buy in bulk. The cover simply read:

Hero Analysis and Support Item Appraisal for the Future #17

While Toshinori cocked an eyebrow at the title, he nonetheless peeled the cover away from the first page, and was greeted by a fairly decent looking drawing of himself. Did the Midoriya boy truly create this? How was he able to draw with such skill despite the lack of usable hands? Not to mention, the penmanship the boy demonstrated as well in his writing was… well All Might wasn't exactly the best judge of how neat handwriting was, but he would certainly admit it to be aesthetically pleasing.

His stare shifted around the room, scanning for something to fill in the blanks, he was missing another piece of the Midoriya puzzle yet again. Curiously, Toshinori noticed that there were several inkwells around the room, one on the coffee table next to the couch, several of them resting on entryway table, and if he had to hazard a guess, there may be a few more inside some of the drawers inside the tables. Taking another gander at the neat writing, and then the inkwells, All Might couldn't help but wonder…

Did he really extend his nervous system outside his body, dip it in ink, and then use it as a pen? The very thought sounded so… barbaric. Disgusting even, but… how else would he be able to write at all?

Shaking his head, the skeleton brought his attention back down to the notebook entry on himself, and actually decided to read a bit of whatever was written.

And then he read it again.

And again.

And again.

Toshinori slammed the notebook shut, as though the very act of doing so would magically dispel the information written down in the book. Suddenly tensing up, the man rapidly directed his attention towards the boy's bedroom door, entirely expecting a villain of some sort to burst out and attack, revealing all of this as an elaborate set-up to lower his guard.

After about a solid 5 minutes of staring, Toshinori finally worked up the nerve to open the book back up. Unfortunately for him, it was all still there. The quite frankly disturbingly accurate descriptions of his Quirk, right down to the words 'power stockpiling' that had been underlined and circled next to a section labeled 'potential quirks', along with a list of plenty of other plausible and sensible Quirk options like strength enhancement, or muscle augmentation. But… everything had been crossed out. There were like, a total of 20 different options that had been written down… and everything had been eliminated beyond power stockpiling.

As if that wasn't frightening enough, the next two pages after were brief but accurate descriptions of battles that he'd partaken in during the past, accurately recording his movements and making startlingly accurate predictions about the amount of power he had utilized during the engagements. Not to mention… the name of and exact combinations of fibers and materials that went into designing his Hero Costume, something that only the brilliant David Shield himself had been able to create after who knows how many months spent on research.

The final two pages were labeled 'potential support items' and… every single piece of equipment that was listed was some sort of armor. And all of it… covered at the very least… his wound. The man's eyes re-read the little text blurb that preceded the support items section, for what seemed to be the fifth time in the past few minutes.

All Might's fighting style revolves entirely around brute force and overwhelming strength to fight his opponents and as such, the villains he has traditionally had trouble with in the past have been those who do not have combat-oriented Quirks, but rather those who possess Quirks that allow them to avoid or entirely skip combat. Nevertheless, All Might has always faced his opponents head on, with his chest bared directly at any foe he faces. Within the past 5 or so years however, his tactics have subtly shifted. Recently, All Might has been pointing the left side of his body away from those he fights, instead choosing to place the right side of himself towards the enemy instead, and appears to be more guarded than he used to be in relation to prior fights. Even when talking with reporters he no longer stands and directly faces the camera immediately; he seems to default to a stance that turns the left side of his body away from any attention. (perhaps subconsciously?) Additionally, All Might can occasionally be seen gripping the left side of his stomach after longer-drawn out fights, and seems to instinctivly cover the area with his arm whenever possible. In any case, the obvious explanation is that All Might suffered a physical injury of some sort in a fight about 5 years ago. (against Toxic Chainsaw, perhaps? Or maybe The Hypnotist was able to trick All Might into injuring himself?) Either way, the injury appears to have healed itself, though All Might may continue to have potential physical and mental scars from the event, resulting in his subconscious (or perhaps conscious) decision to protect the side where said injury occurred. The clear solution for this problem is to acquire some form of armor to cover the area where the wound once was; should there be any physical weak-points remaining behind, the armor can serve as additional protection, and if it has entirely healed at this point, perhaps the armor can be utilized as a sort of comfort blanket? The simple feeling of extra protection may be enough to allow All Might to overcome any remaining trauma surrounding the incident.

Toshinori's breath hitched in his chest as he rapidly flipped through the book, filled entirely to the brim with page upon page of exceptionally detailed notes on heroes of all calibers, both foreign and local, it didn't seem to matter. The notebook entry on Present Mic was filled with more information on the hero than All Might himself knew about the pro, like the fact that he apparently had a twin sister with the same Quirk as himself, but that she had lost it due to an unknown accident in Middle School.

That didn't stop this Midoriya boy from spending two entire pages speculating as to the nature of the wounds she suffered, and the potential methods that could be used to repair or replace her lost Quirk, not to mention the numerous support items designed for Present Mic himself largely concerned with reducing the amount of collateral damage he caused from utilizing his Quirk, while not compromising its power.

The man's hands shot to his pocket, desperately searching around for his cell phone. He needed to call… someone! But who? And what information did he need to divulge? This child somehow accurately guessed his quirk, what his costume was made of, and knew he was wounded 5 years ago. All Might kept that fight buried for a reason! He needed to—

"Ah! I see you've found one of Izuku's little books~"

Toshinori startled, jolting backwards in the wheelchair he had sat himself inside. His, frightened, wide-eyed stare meeting the concerned one of the boy's mother.

"I-is everything okay Mr. Yagi? He… he didn't have any naughty pictures inside his notebook, did he?" All that Toshinori could do was stammer a bit, his eyes unable to decide if they wanted to read more of the book or observe the Midoriya matriarch.

"Did… did your son… truly write these notes?" He eventually managed to ask, after a few more moments of awkward silence.

"Um… y-yes? Is something wrong with them? I know he can write a lot, but… is something wrong with what he wrote?" Toshinori couldn't see any trace of deception in the woman's face, only genuine confusion mixed with a bit of worrying. "He doesn't really do much else, unfortunately. It's… not like he can. He studies a lot, and writes. That's about it really…"

All Might stared down at the burnt notebook in his hands like it was the original copy of The Bible itself, something sacred that needed to be treated with the upmost of care.

"Ma'am… the information contained in this notebook is… exceptionally detailed," He replied, biting back the urge to say 'upsettingly accurate'. "Not to mention some of these… devices that he's laid out plans for…" the rest of his sentence was lost in his throat as he dived through the notebook once more, reading across each and every line of text he came across, and staring at all the various schematics that had been laid out before his eyes.

"…you like it? You think that… Izuku made something good?" startled blue eyes traced over the woman's figure, and seeing no trace of deception, he wordlessly nodded. She smiled and rapidly covered her blushing face with her hands, as if this was the first time anyone acknowledged anything positive at all about the boy. "Ahh! I'm so excited! Izuku will be so pleased that someone likes his writings! Maybe he can go to UA!" she gushed, quite literally jumping up and down with joy.

Due to the sheer number of times tonight that All Might had felt his mouth run dry, he was certain that he was going to need to drink several gallons of water by the time he arrived home tonight.

"Your son… wants to go to UA?" he questioned, his curiosity now peaked. Wordlessly, the mother nodded with a happy smile on her face, as a few tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Izuku… always wanted to be a great hero, just like… just like All Might," Toshinori gulped. "After his accident, though… he went through a really rough patch. We had a few really dark years before he… reapplied himself. He told me he wasn't going to let his disability get the best of him anymore!"

The mother's formerly kind, worried visage was steamrolled over by the determined, confident look now etched across her face. The kind of look that told anyone who saw it to get out of the way, because nothing was going to stop her.

"O-one moment, let me show you Izuku's dream."

A smile found its way back onto the face of Toshinori. The large, reassuring smile he wore when he was All Might. These designs and observations… this kid had absolutely amazing analytical prowess! His grin only grew wider as the mother re-entered Izuku's room, leaving no doubt in Toshinori's mind as to what he was about to see.

Izuku's magnum opus. What he was about to see would be the result of a child who had lost everything, and then rediscovered his passion. This would undoubtedly be what the boy would utilize to proclaim to the world 'I am here!'

A very determined looking mother stepped out of the room a moment later, a small binder in her hands. It was filled to the brim with a bunch of papers, that much he could see, and the cover of the binder itself had a very crudely drawn image of a green haired child in a wheelchair, suspended in the air by what he assumed to be four large, mechanical arms.

"This was the very first thing Izuku drew when he snapped out of his funk, and he's never stopped working on his dream since then!" The mother fiercely proclaimed, all but thrusting the binder into the eager arms of the wheelchair bound skeleton, who readily accepted the offering. If it was possible, the already wide smile on Toshinori's face grew even larger as he examined the contents, which were far more intricate and detailed than the rudimentary cover art would imply.

Toshinori could hear Inko talking in the background, and he did listen in, but he was unable to tear his gaze from the numerous pages in the binder, all of them relating to some aspect of his wonderful invention. A set of four mechanical, octopus-like limbs connected to a robotic spine he wanted to have surgically grafted onto his actual spine, through which he could properly and finally utilize his quirk to its fullest potential. Izuku had absolutely no idea how to plug the nerves in his body back into his muscles, and as such his Quirk was rendered largely useless. However, it was abundantly clear that Izuku was a technological genius, and while All Might would readily admit to not understanding a large portion of what was written down, he did get the gist of it.

Midoriya couldn't plug his nerves back into his muscles. So… he was going to build a machine that plugged itself into his nervous system. Plenty of the other pages seemed to be speculation on what controlling the device would feel like but ultimately, it was something that would need to be physically tested to prove anything.

Seeing the excited look on the skeleton of a man in front of her who seemed to be practically shaking with energy, Inko just couldn't help herself anymore as she continued on, thoroughly encouraged.

"UA has top quality materials, and an amazing track record for not just its Hero course graduates, but also its Support course graduates!" the Midoriya woman stated matter-of-factly, further fanning the fire that was beginning to flare within Toshinori as he continued scanning the details of the boy's future limbs. "Its Izuku's plan to apply for the support course, sending in one of his tech notebooks as proof of his skills. From there, he'd build that invention of his… and use it to crush the competition during the UA Sports Festival!"

Toshinori rapidly rose from his wheelchair, furious determination burning within his electric blue eyes that matched the fiery mother's in intensity. While this woman was clearly egging herself on… the speech was having the same effect on All Might himself! The skeleton's fists clenched, he felt that ever-familiar surge of power rise up through his system, and his body began to increase in size…

"He's going to stomp the competition into the ground with his new legs, and take first place without even breaking a sweat!" she shouted, blissfully unaware of the situation she was about to find herself in, the pure elation of finally having someone else who believed in her son had lit a fire within the tired mother. "He's going to let the world know that it can't keep him down, no matter what it throws at him! He'll stand on the winner's podium of his own power and finally announce to the entire world that—"

"I AM HERE!"

Startled, Inko jumped backwards while her arms flopped to her side as she crashed into the couch, which was luckily positioned behind her. The woman's jaw dropped and she could do nothing more than gaze in awe upon the massive figure that currently resided in their living room, his giant muscular physique straining the fabric of his white t-shirt and cargo pants. The mountain of a man that was All Might laughed heartily, striking a heroic pose and pointing at the dumbstruck woman.

"Mrs. Midoriya, I am sorry to say that your son's plans are about to change!" the hulking figure boomed, the fire within him having long since transformed into a raging inferno. "Waiting for the Sports Festival to occur for your son's brilliance to shine… IS AN UNACCEPTABLE DELAY!"

Inko couldn't believe what was happening right now, it was all so surreal… The sheer elation she felt when someone said they liked Izuku's little sketches felt like lightning in her veins, and at that moment in time she didn't care about the qualifications that the emaciated man sitting in her living room may have held in regard to appraising support items. For the first time in far too many years… she was finally able to scream it out loud; that her son wasn't useless, that he wasn't helpless, that he could still make a difference in the world.

And now… somehow that skinny matchstick man who was vomiting blood in the parking lot not thirty minutes ago had transformed into the Symbol of Peace, and was loudly proclaiming that he was going to somehow speed things up for her precious baby boy! It was… it was…

Too much!

The poor woman's eyes rolled into the back of her head as her body went limp, unable to handle everything that she had gone through that evening.

"M-m-mom? W-w-w-why d-does i-i-it sound l-like A-All Might i-is in our l-living room?"

Inko's fainted figure didn't respond, still remaining limp on the couch sans the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took.

All Might continued to laugh as the boy's calls became slightly more frantic, while his mother remained peacefully oblivious to his distress. This Midoriya family… All Might could tell he was about to be in for one hell of a wild ride. He made a mental note to search around for the phone he seemed to be missing, perhaps he left it in the car?

Eh, it didn't matter. He'd call Powerloader up in the morning to let him know that he'd be swinging by UA in the evening with his… second protégé.

Yes… that worked well for the Pro Hero, his second protégé. Izuku wouldn't be able to handle the power of One for All, but that didn't mean that All Might had to ignore the boy either! Perhaps his genius mind could finally invent a pair of underwear for Mirio that didn't fall off when he used his quirk…

All Might gently repositioned the woman on the couch so she was lying down on her side, deciding he'd stick around and wait for her to wake up to explain the situation now that he'd gotten over his… excited outburst earlier.

He had meant every word of it though, and it was necessary to reveal his secret to the woman if he wanted to start carting Izuku off to UA so he could have access to the support labs before the entrance examination in 10 months. He doubted she'd be willing to just let him disappear with her son nearly every day, in any case.

This… this was going to be Plus Ultra!