YOUR SMALL BABY BRAIN had never fully registered just how young your adoptive father actually was. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that Aizawa was still in his mid-teens, with shorter hair and slightly lighter eye bags than the version you were used to.

You began to piece together why he might have been assigned to care for you. Your quirk was undeniably dangerous, which could explain why a teenager still in school was given such a significant responsibility.

It made sense that, by the time you were one year old, you would be placed under the care of a nanny. The school couldn't have given Aizawa an extended leave just for being your guardian, could they?

Your questions were answered when you stumbled upon some documents sprawled on the coffee table. With your nanny momentarily in the washroom, you seized the opportunity to read them.

The documents featured bold headings stating End of Internship and included a detailed report. Amid the paragraphs, one name jumped out at you: Oboro Shirakumo.

You recalled that Oboro Shirakumo was a friend of both Aizawa and Present Mic who had tragically passed away.

The day of his death was exactly a day before you were born. It made sense now that the school had given him time off to focus on recovering from the loss and to take care of you.

Your power was so intense that you had to be put under surveillance, the thought scared you for a while as you suppressed it deeper.

//

By the time you turned one year old, your ability to form full sentences astonished the doctors during your check-up. Your advanced intelligence was something they had never encountered before. You felt a swell of pride as you looked up at Aizawa, who returned your gaze with a warm, approving smile.

Despite the demands of his schooling, Aizawa made a point to be present in your life. He engaged in your playful antics and made time for you, even as you grew into a lively four-year-old.

"[Name], it's time for dinner," Aizawa called out, setting a plate of broccoli and spaghetti in front of you. You waddled in with your My Melody plushie and took your seat, immediately recoiling at the sight of the green vegetable.

"Eat your vegetables, [Name], or the boogeyman will get you."

The mention of the boogeyman struck a chord with your young self, and you trembled at the thought. Your eyes widened with concern.

"Will the boogeyman take me away?" you asked, your voice quivering.

Aizawa nodded solemnly, though a playful smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, and he'll steal all your plushies, too."

The thought of losing your treasured plushies made you shiver, as you mentally counted how many you had.

Aizawa's blend of humor and gentle discipline not only made the situation lighter but also effectively persuaded you to tackle the dreaded vegetables. His playful threats, coupled with the thought of losing your beloved toys, motivated you to at least give the broccoli a try.

As you reluctantly shoved a small piece of broccoli into your mouth, Aizawa continued with a nonchalant tone.

"[Name], it's time for you to join kindergarten," he said, chewing his food with a blank stare.

You looked up, bewildered, and grumbled, "Whaaaat? But I'm too smart for that!" You poked at your food, clearly unhappy about the new development.

Aizawa, not missing a beat, replied, "The government says otherwise."

Kindergarten was supposed to be easy, a breeze in fact. You weren't worried about learning the basics again, but more about the fact that you'd be missing your favorite shows in the mornings.

"And no," Aizawa's voice cut through your thoughts, "you can't talk about the happenings on Love Island while you're there. The teachers will think I'm a weirdo for letting you watch that." He set your plate in the sink, his calm tone betraying the amused look on his face as he watched you pout.

"You're the worst, chi chi," you huffed, hopping off your chair and waddling to your room. He rolled his eyes at your antics.

After the incident, Aizawa was sure he wasn't in any shape to take care of a child. But he was glad he did, the world seemed lighter now.

Once inside, you sat down and thought about your next move. The main events of this world—the real story—weren't supposed to happen for years. You had time to figure things out, or so you thought.

The next day at kindergarten, out of the corner of your eye, a mop of unruly green hair caught your attention. Your eyes widened in recognition.

There was no mistaking it. That was Izuku Midoriya, the protagonist was standing nervously in front of you, clutching a notebook to his chest. He hadn't noticed you yet, his wide eyes scanning the classroom anxiously as if he was already dreading the day ahead.

You were about to process the fact that the future hero was standing just a few feet away when another familiar figure entered your line of sight, a scowling blonde boy stomping into the room with an air of superiority. Katsuki Bakugo. His expression screamed confidence, while his tiny hands were already balled into fists, as if he was looking for someone to challenge.

Oh no, you thought, "Both of them in the same room can't be good" you muttered.

Before you could even decide how to approach either of them, Bakugo's sharp voice rang out.

"Deku! Why are you standing there like an idiot?"

Midoriya flinched, his eyes darting toward Bakugo. And in that moment, his gaze landed on you, too.

Your heart raced as Bakugo's piercing red eyes locked onto you, his presence heavy and overbearing. He momentarily ignored Midoriya, who was trembling behind him, and made a beeline for you. The heat of his gaze felt intense, like he was already sizing you up for a fight.

"Why's your hair white? Are you some sort of freak?" Bakugo leaned in, scrutinizing every detail of your appearance, from your stark white hair to your pale eyelashes.

Typical Bakugo, you thought. He was as blunt and confrontational as ever. But instead of letting his words get to you, you rolled your eyes. There was no way you were giving him the reaction he was fishing for.

Without a word, you turned away from him and walked straight over to Midoriya. The green-haired boy let out a soft gasp, eyes wide with disbelief. No one ignored Bakugo, especially not like this. And here you were, brazenly doing just that, as if daring him to respond.

"H-Hello..." Midoriya stammered, clearly thrown off by the sudden attention.

Behind you, Bakugo's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. He wasn't used to being ignored, and the audacity of your actions hit him like a slap to the face. You could almost feel his frustration simmering in the air, but you kept your focus on Midoriya, flashing him a small smile.

"Are you alright?" you asked Midoriya, your voice cheery as you flashed him one of your cutest smile.

Midoriya blinked, clearly startled that someone was actually being kind to him. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine..." he managed to say, though his eyes darted nervously between you and Bakugo, who was no doubt fuming behind you.

"Wanna be friends?" you said, grabbing Midoriya's hands in yours and giving them a gentle squeeze.

Midoriya's reaction was immediate and hilarious. His entire face turned a bright shade of red as if you had set him on fire. He sputtered, clearly not used to someone being this forward, let alone kind. You couldn't help but wonder how anyone, especially Bakugo, could be mean to someone as adorable as this wide-eyed, flustered boy.

Before you could fully enjoy Midoriya's bashfulness, a sharp tug jerked your head back slightly. Bakugo had grabbed one of your pigtails, yanking it just hard enough to pull your attention back to him.

"Listen to me when I'm talking to you!" Bakugo growled, his face twisted with annoyance.

"You're gonna be even more of a freak if you hang out with that loser." He jabbed a thumb in Midoriya's direction, who flinched at the insult. "He doesn't even have his quirk yet, and he's almost five!" Bakugo boasted, puffing out his chest like he had just stated a universal truth.

You sighed, gently untangling your pigtail from Bakugo's grip. Turning to face him fully, you stared into his red eyes, refusing to give in to his intimidation tactics. He was really starting to get on your nerves.

"Are you sure you want to keep pulling on my hair?" you asked sweetly, your tone dripping with false innocence. "Aren't you afraid of cooties? They're a real thing, you know."

Bakugo's face twisted in confusion, and before he could respond, you leaned in with a mischievous grin. "I have them all over me," you added, raising your hands toward him for dramatic effect.

For a moment, Bakugo looked torn between annoyance and disgust, but the latter quickly won out. His lip curled, and he recoiled with an exaggerated look of horror, stepping back as if you were radioactive.

"Ugh, gross!" he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants as if trying to rid himself of some invisible contagion.

You couldn't help but smirk. Perfect.

"My friend over here is immune," you continued, beaming as you gestured toward Midoriya, who stood wide-eyed and completely clueless. "Because I like him," you added with a teasing smile.

Midoriya's face turned crimson again, and his eyes grew even wider, if that were possible. Bakugo, meanwhile, looked between the two of you, momentarily at a loss for words.

You could tell the idea of being outsmarted by someone was probably infuriating him, but the disgust he felt seemed to win out.

"Tch, whatever!" Bakugo spat, backing away from you. "You both are freaks."

As he stormed off, you couldn't help but feel a small surge of victory. You turned to Midoriya, who still hadn't recovered from the shock of your declaration.

"Don't worry," you said, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Cooties aren't real."

Midoriya blinked at you, still flustered, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "M-My name is Midoriya Izuku," he stammered, his blush deepening.

You grinned brightly, leaning in and immediately engulfing him in a hug. "I'm Aizawa [Name]!" you said with enthusiasm, squeezing him tightly.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of red eyes glared at you from across the playground. Bakugo was watching closely, his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't understand the strange feeling that churned in his chest. Was it anger? Frustration? Jealousy?

This was the first time someone had refused to be his friend. Everyone else always followed him, admired him. But you... you didn't care. You had turned your back on him without hesitation.

As Bakugo stood there, watching you laugh and chat with Midoriya, that unfamiliar feeling in his heart ONLY GREW STRONGER.