Вот исправленная и переработанная версия твоего текста с устранением грамматических, логических и стилистических ошибок. Я постарался сохранить атмосферу и сюжет, при этом улучшив читаемость и структуру:
Inko sat beside her son, Izuku, gently rubbing his back in an effort to soothe his typically sensitive and anxious nature.
"Izuku, if you calm down just a little, we'll get through this. Please, try not to do anything rash. I know you're scared, but everything will be fine," she said, noticing how he couldn't sit still, fidgeting nervously. Especially today — they were going to take his blood, and that genuinely frightened him.
Yet despite the fear, he summoned his courage, thinking of All Might — the symbol of peace, who always faced danger with a smile and unshakable resolve.
"Well then, let's begin," the doctor said in a professional tone. "I'll wrap a pressure sensor around your arm. This helps us determine your heart activity and may give us a hint if your quirk has manifested. Although, I must warn you — it's not a precise method. There's only about a 15% chance of detection," he explained.
With practiced hands, the doctor removed adhesive strips and placed them gently around Izuku's bicep. As he activated the device, it tightened, making the boy flinch slightly from the pressure. He winced but endured it, the machine emitting a steady series of beeping sounds. Inko watched with concern, eyes fixed on the screen.
"Don't worry," the doctor finally said. "Your son's heart activity is perfectly normal, and there's no sign of any heart condition. It's also completely normal that the machine didn't detect a quirk. This test is only preliminary." He smiled and carefully removed the sensor from Izuku's arm, setting it aside. Then, with a kind look, he added, "Everything will be alright."
Children often find comfort in a warm smile, and Inko hoped that would ease her son's nerves.
"Now we'll take a blood sample," the doctor continued. "This will help us determine whether he inherited any quirk-related genes from you or your husband."
He stood and walked to a cabinet, retrieving a syringe and alcohol swabs. After disinfecting the area, he located a suitable vein on the first try and inserted the needle with care. Izuku felt a sharp prick and a ticklish sensation travel through his arm, but he didn't cry. Instead, he smiled through the discomfort, bravely enduring it.
"Please hold this cotton ball over the injection site," the doctor instructed Inko. She quickly complied, gently pressing it to her son's arm.
"Well done, young man. You're very brave! With courage like that, I have no doubt you'll become a hero," the doctor praised, igniting a spark in Izuku's eyes.
As ten minutes passed since the blood was drawn, Izuku's thoughts began to darken. He started to realize that in today's quirk-dominated society, a child born without a quirk might never be able to become a hero. Though he tried to keep smiling, Inko noticed something had changed — the cheerful glow on his face had faded.
The most painful part was yet to come — the doctor still hadn't given a final answer, and Inko feared what it might be.
Izuku continued to smile, holding on to the doctor's earlier praise. But instead of confirmation, the doctor spoke again.
"I'd like to run one final test," he said. "It's an X-ray scan to check for the presence or absence of an additional joint in the pinky toe — a common indicator of quirklessness."
He looked to Inko. "I'll proceed only with your consent."
Inko nodded, trying to steady her trembling hands. She squeezed Izuku's palm gently and helped him lie on the scanning table.
"Stay still, honey. This is the last test. After this, we'll know for sure if you're more like me or your father," she said with a soft smile. Her words gave Izuku the push he needed to stay brave.
"Now lie back, and don't move. It'll be over quickly, I promise," the doctor said.
Izuku settled into the machine, which began to scan his skeletal structure.
"Everything okay, sweetie?" Inko asked.
"Yeah, Mom. It's just… really bright in here. And the machine's making weird noises," Izuku replied.
Relieved, Inko waited patiently as the machine completed its task. The doctor, however, sat frozen in front of the screen, eyes wide with disbelief.
What is this? he thought. It's impossible… A case like this is almost unheard of. If he has this blood type and lacks that joint, he's a complete anomaly… Will society ever accept a child like him?
Twenty minutes had passed, and the doctor still hadn't said a word. He forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Doctor Akira wasn't good at hiding things — whenever he lied, his nose itched and his right eye twitched, due to a minor side-effect of his shapeshifting quirk.
Desperately trying to delay the inevitable, he asked:
"If you don't mind — what quirks do you and your husband possess?"
Inko reached across the table and levitated a pen slightly with her telekinesis. "I have a weak telekinesis quirk. My husband could breathe fire," she answered, recalling Hitoshi's ability.
She had always hoped Izuku would inherit his father's quirk — especially since he had been unusually thirsty that morning. But clearly, that hope was fading.
Doctor Akira, still wearing his practiced smile, looked at Izuku with sadness in his heart. He could see how much this boy dreamed of being a hero.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak the truth, the door burst open.
"Dad, Dad! He's here! The doctor's here!" cried a cheerful four-year-old girl with short blue hair and sparkling topaz eyes.
"Oh, hello there!" she said brightly.
Izuku blinked, surprised — it was the first time he had seen someone his age. The girl's presence instantly captivated him.
She ran up and bombarded him with questions.
"Wow! How does your hair grow like that? Is it easy to take care of? Were you born with green hair, or did you dye it?"
Overwhelmed but smiling, Izuku responded kindly, his golden smile lighting up his face. This unexpected encounter bloomed into his first real friendship with a girl.
Inko and the doctor watched them, momentarily forgetting the tension.
How adorable! Inko thought. My baby's talking to a girl! Hisashi, you have to see this…
Meanwhile, the girl's father entered, clearly exasperated.
"Nejire, what are you doing? You can't just barge in! People are waiting for test results!"
"I'm so sorry," said Mr. Hado, bowing slightly. "We're here for a quirk assessment too. My daughter can be… energetic."
Before leaving, the girl turned to Izuku and beamed.
"My name's Nejire Hado!"
"Nice to meet you, Hado-san. I'm Izuku Midoriya," he replied, waving as the door closed.
Once silence returned, Doctor Akira took a deep breath.
"Mrs. Midoriya," he said solemnly, "according to all the analyses, your son has not inherited either of your quirks. In fact…"
He hesitated.
Inko's heart raced. Izuku clutched a small All Might figurine in his hand.
"…I'm sorry to say this, but your son is… quirkless."
The words hit Izuku like a lightning bolt. His figurine slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the floor. The sparkle in his eyes dimmed — not extinguished, but dulled.