Chapter 1: The Beginning of a Legend
The first time Izuku Midoriya met Rumi Usagiyama, he saved her.
It wasn't dramatic, not in the way that some stories painted heroic rescues. There was no burning building, no villainous monologue, no grand stage. Just a small park, a group of bullies, and a little girl with white hair and bunny ears who refused to cry.
Izuku, four years old, Quirkless, and yet already unshakable in his desire to be a hero, didn't hesitate when he saw the older boys surrounding her. They had been pulling at her ears, laughing as she growled and kicked, trying to fight back despite the numbers against her.
Izuku ran in headfirst.
"Leave her alone!" he shouted, arms spread wide.
One of the boys shoved him hard, sending him to the dirt. But Izuku wasn't deterred. He got back up. Again. And again. His nose bled, his lip split, but he didn't back down. His stubbornness was enough to spook the bullies—if only because a teacher finally took notice and chased them off.
The white-haired girl stared at him, red eyes sharp but curious.
"You're stupid," she declared, hands on her hips.
Izuku grinned, despite the blood dripping from his nose. "Maybe. But heroes save people, right?"
Something shifted in her expression then, something softer. She offered him her hand.
"I'm Rumi. You're mine now."
From that day forward, Izuku and Rumi were inseparable. They trained together, played together, dreamed together. Where one went, the other followed.
Rumi had no parents—she lived with her grandmother, Madoka, a striking woman who, despite appearing youthful and vibrant, carried an old soul's wisdom. She was playful, with an ever-present mischievous smile, and she had an endless supply of teasing remarks.
"You're such a softie, Izuku!" she'd tease, giving him a playful nudge whenever he would fuss over Rumi's training injuries. "Rumi's strong—she doesn't need your hero complex."
Inko Midoriya, on the other hand, was enamored with Rumi from the first moment they met. "You're adorable!" she would say, cooing over the bunny ears and insisting on making extra food whenever Rumi visited. Rumi, for her part, was never bothered, though she'd roll her eyes when Inko would fuss.
But it was clear to both women that Izuku and Rumi were more than just childhood friends. They were kindred spirits, bound together by their dreams.
As they grew, so did their dreams.
"I'm going to be the Number One Hero," Rumi declared at six, arms crossed as she sat beside Izuku on the playground.
Izuku grinned, eyes bright with admiration. "Me too!"
She snorted. "You're Quirkless, dumbass."
Izuku, unfazed, nodded. "Yeah, but I won't let that stop me."
Rumi stared at him for a long moment before punching his arm—hard. "Good. I don't hang out with quitters."
Izuku winced and rubbed his arm but smiled back, their connection so strong that even in their childhood, a simple punch could convey how deeply they understood each other. He knew she was challenging him, pushing him to be better. And, in return, he gave her the support she needed to stay grounded. It was an unspoken understanding.
The bond they shared wasn't just in their shared dreams but in every little moment that passed between them. Like the time they were twelve and Rumi got her first training injury—an ankle sprain from overworking herself in their backyard sparring session. Izuku had rushed to her side the moment she stumbled, her knee nearly hitting the ground as her face twisted in pain.
"Rumi!" Izuku shouted, panic in his voice. "Are you okay?"
She winced, clutching her ankle. "It's fine, just a little sprain."
But Izuku wasn't having it. He insisted on carrying her to the bench, not caring that he was probably going to make a fool of himself. His arms were strong now, a product of all their training together, and he gently sat her down. Then, he ran inside to grab ice and bandages, returning as fast as he could.
Rumi couldn't help but smile at his frantic efforts. "You're so dramatic," she teased, trying to hide the softness in her voice.
Izuku just glared at her, trying to act serious. "You'll be fine. You just need to take a break and—"
"Just don't go all hero on me, Izuku," she interrupted, poking him in the chest with her good leg. "I'm not made of glass."
"I'm just worried about you," Izuku muttered, looking down at her ankle. "We still have a lot to do. I can't let you get hurt."
Rumi watched him for a long time, then reached out to touch his cheek, her fingers brushing against the scar where he had been scraped from an earlier sparring match. "I know," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I won't let you down."
By the time they were fourteen, Izuku had grown into a towering figure, standing at an impressive 6'4". Years of training alongside Rumi had sculpted his body into something powerful, something far removed from the skinny, Quirkless kid he had once been. He was fast, strong, and could take a hit better than most.
And Rumi—though shorter at 5'3"—with a body that most girls would kill for. She developed early clearly shown in her well endowed chest and large but firm butt that was formed from the many squats and other exercises. Though small in stature she is a force of nature. Every kick she delivered could shatter bones, every punch carried enough force to send boys twice her size sprawling.
They had made a name for themselves in their school, not as troublemakers, but as warriors. Bakugo, once the childhood bully, had become more of a rival. He still sneered, still boasted, but even he couldn't deny that Izuku wasn't the same kid he used to mock. And Rumi? Well, she made it a point to put him in his place whenever his ego got too big.
Still, for all their growth, for all their progress, Izuku's dream hadn't changed.
He still wanted to be a hero.
And that day, fate decided to test him.
The sludge villain attack happened fast. One moment, Izuku was heading home with Rumi after school, their usual banter filling the air. The next, explosions rang through the city, and people were screaming.
Then they saw him—Bakugo, trapped in the sludge monster's grasp, struggling as he gasped for air. Heroes were standing back, hesitant, waiting for the right moment to act. But Izuku didn't wait.
He moved before Rumi could stop him.
She didn't yell for him to stop. Didn't grab his arm. She knew better than anyone—Izuku wasn't the type to hesitate when someone needed saving.
So instead, she ran after him, not caring how many people were in the way. Her heart beat fast in her chest, her instincts telling her to follow him.
"Izuku!" she shouted, but it was too late—he was already there, charging towards Bakugo. She could only keep up with him as he fought, trying to keep his focus on the task.
Izuku launched forward, grabbing a metal pipe from the ground. With the force of his entire body, he swung, slamming it into the sludge's eye. It roared, recoiling, and that was all the opening he needed. He reached for Bakugo, fingers barely brushing against his, when suddenly—
A gust of wind. A booming voice.
"All Might?!"
The Number One Hero descended, striking with such force that the sludge villain exploded into harmless goo.
Silence followed. Then, Bakugo coughed, glaring up at Izuku.
"Dumbass," he rasped, though there was something begrudgingly grateful in his eyes.
Izuku grinned, offering his hand. "You're welcome."
Later, when All Might pulled Izuku aside, there was something serious in his gaze.
"Why?" he asked. "Why did you run in?"
Izuku blinked, confused. "Because someone needed help."
"That's not what I mean," All Might pressed. "You have no Quirk. You knew the risks. And yet, you still acted."
Izuku's expression didn't waver. "Because that's what heroes do."
Silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, a smile spread across All Might's face.
For the first time, he saw it—the potential, the fire, the unwavering will.
"I think you've got what it takes," All Might said, his smile widening. "And that's why I'm going to give you my power."
Izuku's eyes widened in shock. "What? But… you're the Number One Hero!"
All Might took a deep breath. "It's true. But, Izuku, there's something important you must understand. You see, my power isn't just about strength—it's about the will to never give up. To keep fighting, no matter the odds."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. Then, he looked at Izuku seriously, his eyes filled with both pride and a hint of sorrow.
"I've been hiding this secret from the world. This is the real me, Izuku. The person I truly am. I've been holding onto One For All, and I'm passing it to you."
The transformation was incredible. Before Izuku's eyes, All Might's towering, muscular form began to shrink. His body seemed to deflate, revealing the skeletal, fragile figure beneath.
Izuku felt a rush of both awe and fear. "So you've been… like this all along?"
All Might nodded. "Yes. But I've been hiding it, to keep the faith of the people. Now it's time for you to carry the legacy."
Izuku's heart raced. "I'll do my best!"
All Might's smile was full of approval. "I know you will. But this isn't going to be easy. I'll train you, Izuku, and you'll need to push your limits in ways you never have before."
Izuku nodded resolutely. He wasn't afraid. This was the moment he had dreamed of. And nothing, not even the lack of a Quirk, could stop him now.
That night, as Izuku and Rumi sat on the rooftop of his apartment building, watching the stars, she nudged him with her shoulder.
"You're an idiot," she muttered.
Izuku chuckled. "You're the second person to tell me that today."
She turned, red eyes staring into his. "But you're my idiot."
Warmth bloomed in his chest. He smiled. "Yeah."
They sat in comfortable silence, the city lights glowing below them. And though they didn't know it yet, this was only the beginning of their journey together.