The early morning light spilled gently into Izuku's room, softening the shadows where the crimson grimoire hovered silently, its red glow pulsing like a heartbeat.
Izuku lay on the floor, breath uneven, heart racing from the night's impossible events. The book's faint glow was both comforting and unnerving.
He reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing the cover as the voice whispered once again.
"Hello, Matthew."
The name sounded strange—like a distant echo of something he didn't quite understand. Yet, deep inside, it stirred something unspoken.
Before he could ponder more, the familiar footsteps of his parents drew near.
"Inko? Hisashi?" Izuku called softly.
The door creaked open, and his mother's warm face appeared, eyes full of concern. "Izuku, you okay? You've been restless these past few nights."
He quickly closed the book and slid it under his bed, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, just tired."
Hisashi followed behind, worry etched in his features. "You don't have to keep things from us. We're here, son."
Izuku's heart clenched. These were his parents—the ones who had raised him since he was a baby, who had loved and protected him no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to share a little of the truth—without revealing the strange name or the book's voice.
"Something strange happened last night," he admitted. "This book… it appeared in my room. It glows and seems… alive."
Inko's brows furrowed, a mixture of worry and curiosity. "A magical book?"
He nodded, "I don't really understand it yet, but it feels like it's trying to teach me something."
Hisashi sat beside him, voice steady. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. You're not alone."
The warmth in their eyes was all Izuku needed. For the first time since the strange awakening, he felt hope.
That evening, under the quiet glow of the grimoire, Izuku began his lessons. The book guided him through breathing exercises, focusing his mind, calming the storm of emotions inside.
"Magic is powerful, but it can consume you if you're not careful," the grimoire warned in its soft voice.
Over the following days, Izuku found he could move small objects, conjure tiny sparks of light, and feel a strange connection to something deep within himself.
Yet the questions lingered.
Who was "Matthew"? Why did the book call him that name?
Late one night, a sudden vision flashed in his mind—fragments of a pale man handing him over to loving parents, urging courage and strength before disappearing into a collapsing portal.
The memory faded too quickly for Izuku to understand.
He closed his eyes and leaned back, drawing strength from the presence of Inko and Hisashi—the parents who had always been his world.
Outside, in the shadows, a figure watched silently.
"He's awakening," the figure whispered.