After closing the door to the room, Inko began cleaning the kitchen and living room after spending time playing with Izuku. As she worked, her mind wandered. She wondered what kind of quirk her son would inherit. He was doing everything he could to become a hero, but that dream came with risks—serious ones.
Being a hero meant living with danger. Every day, you became a target for villains. And there were no guarantees. You might not survive until tomorrow. What frightened Inko the most wasn't the battles or the villains—it was the thought that Izuku's future might be stolen by the very path he idolized. That his personal life, his relationships with his mother and father, could fade into the background. That one day, when he had his own family and children, he wouldn't have the time or strength to truly be there for them.
Yes, the life of a hero could be full of excitement and good pay—but how many heroes actually lived to old age? Not many. Most didn't retire with honor; they were forgotten, worn out, or lost in the line of duty. And what scared her even more was the loneliness. That Izuku might lose sight of the people around him, become distant, obsessed with hero work, and end up isolated.
After all, who needs an aging, injured hero—no matter how powerful—when there's a younger graduate with a new flashy quirk taking the spotlight? That was the ugly truth behind the dazzling world of heroism. It all looked so bright: costumes, speeches, victory poses. But no one spoke about the burnout, broken families, or shattered health.
And this terrified Inko.
What if her son followed that same tragic path? He deserved better. She had seen how his eyes lit up when heroes appeared on TV, how he memorized their moves and filled his notebooks with stats and analysis. But was he truly meant for such a dangerous life? With his brilliant mind, he could change the world in a different way—one just as valuable, just as heroic.
Brrrrr.
Inko's phone vibrated for the second time. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed the first buzz. As she walked to the table, she allowed herself a small flicker of hope: Maybe it's Hisashi... Maybe he's finally coming home. Maybe he'll say, "Inko, I'm coming back. Wait for me and Izuku—I'll be there in an hour."
But it wasn't Hisashi.
Instead, the screen showed a familiar contact name: "Explosive Wheat."
It was her childhood friend, Mitsuki Bakugo.
She picked up the phone and held it to her ear.
— Hello, Inko Midoriya speaking, — she answered softly.
Laughter rang from the other end.
— Oh, come on, Inko. Since when did we start talking like strangers? We've known each other since we were kids, — Mitsuki's playful voice responded.
Inko chuckled, already feeling better.
— Sorry, force of habit. How are you? It's pretty late—
Mitsuki glanced at the clock: 11:17 PM.
— I know, I know. Sorry for calling this late, I just really needed to talk to you, — Mitsuki admitted after a brief pause.
— Is everything okay? You sound serious. I haven't heard you like this since you fell for Masaru, — Inko said, concern creeping into her voice.
Mitsuki laughed.
— You're still the same—too trusting and way too honest. That's why I adore you.
The mood between them softened, like old times.
— Stop flattering me, Mitsuki! — Inko blushed and stammered, her voice full of warmth.
— Alright, alright. So how's Izuku doing? — Mitsuki asked, deliberately avoiding any mention of Hisashi.
— Great! I just put him to bed. Tomorrow we're going to the doctor to check his quirk. You should've seen how excited he was—running around pretending to be All Might! He couldn't stop smiling. — Inko paused, her own smile lingering. — As for me, I feel like the happiest woman in the world having him by my side. What about Katsuki? And the modeling agency? I heard things are going well.
— They are, mostly. Though... — Mitsuki sighed. — We had a bit of a disaster. One of those flashy heroes released an energy pulse during a fight with a villain—right near our building. Half our equipment was fried. Thankfully, the hero agency paid for the damages. If it weren't for Masaru calming me down, I swear I would've blown up the whole office.
Inko laughed, covering her mouth.
— If Masaru weren't around, I'm pretty sure you'd blow up every passerby on the street!
Mitsuki grinned.
— You're not wrong. Anyway, get this: I was modeling a new dress—pretty pricey, too—and some old creep in the audience offered to buy me. Like, right there on stage!
Inko gasped.
Mitsuki continued.
— I wanted to scream that I wasn't some cheap prostitute and tell him where to shove his dirty money. But Masaru stepped in. He stopped the photoshoot, grabbed the guy by the collar, and tossed him out. Just like that.
— He did?! — Inko exclaimed, eyes wide with pride for her friend's husband.
— Oh, you should've seen it! Everyone thinks Masaru's the quiet one, but when it counts—he's the real beast. I may be the loudmouth, but he's the one people shouldn't mess with.
— And Katsuki? — Inko asked, still smiling.
— Oh, that little firecracker finally awakened his quirk. A mix of mine and Masaru's. He blew up half our furniture. I yelled at him, but he just shouted back, "Kids grow up so fast, oh my god!" like he was the parent! — Mitsuki groaned.
— Now he's all "I'm gonna be better than All Might." These kids and their heroes...
— That's okay, — Inko replied gently. — It's good that they have dreams. They'll grow and figure things out. It's all part of being a kid.
— You're right, as always. No argument from me, — Mitsuki said, letting out a dramatic yawn. — Alright, let's wrap this up. Call me tomorrow after the test—I want to know what Izuku gets.
— Of course. Goodnight, Mitsuki.
— Goodnight, Inko. Sending you a hug.
Inko set the phone down and lay on the couch, her green hair fanning out around her. Her eyes fluttered closed. The ceiling faded into blackness as sleep pulled her into the realm of dreams.
The Next Day
Two figures sat in the waiting area outside the doctor's office: a little green-haired boy holding an All Might figurine, and a slender woman with long hair and striking features. Izuku was jittery, fidgeting, and whining about the wait.
— It's taking forever! I thought it'd be more exciting, — he grumbled.
— Mrs. Midoriya? You and your son may come in, — a kind voice said.
The doctor was a middle-aged man with a heteromorphic quirk—his head resembled a brown toy dinosaur. Most children were fascinated by his appearance, and he had become a favorite among them. Izuku's eyes lit up with wonder.
— Please, have a seat. We'll begin the quirk test now. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes, — the doctor said gently.
Izuku nearly trembled with anticipation. His heart pounded. He was moments away from his dream.
"This is it. I'll never forget this day—it'll be the best day of my life. Just wait, All Might. If I can't become your successor… then I'll be the one who surpasses you!"
He didn't just feel excited—he was ready to explode with it.
Yes, this would be the beginning of his greatest triumph.
To Be Continued...