Two Years Later
Izuku Midoriya was four years old, and today was the most important day of his life.
He sat in the backseat of the car, swinging his legs nervously as his mother drove them to the quirk specialist. Beside him, nine-year-old Kaito held his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"It's gonna be okay, Izu," Kaito said with that confident smile that made everything seem possible. "No matter what your quirk is, it's gonna be amazing. I just know it."
Izuku nodded, but his stomach was doing flips. All of his friends at daycare had started developing their quirks. Kacchan—Katsuki Bakugo—had gotten his explosion quirk last month and wouldn't stop bragging about it. Even shy Koji Koda had discovered he could talk to animals.
But Izuku? Nothing yet.
"What if... what if I don't have one?" Izuku whispered, voicing his deepest fear.
Kaito's expression became fierce, protective. "Then you'll be the first quirkless hero. You're my brother, Izuku. You're gonna be amazing no matter what."
"Kaito's right, sweetie," their mother called from the front seat, though Izuku could hear the worry in her voice. "We love you no matter what."
The doctor's office was clean and sterile, filled with posters showing different types of quirks and their genetic markers. Dr. Ujiko was an older man with a kind smile, though something about him made Kaito tense beside Izuku. His big brother's hand tightened slightly on his shoulder.
"Well now, young Midoriya! Let's see what we have here." Dr. Ujiko studied the X-rays on his screen, his expression unreadable. The seconds stretched into eternity.
Izuku held his breath.
"I'm sorry," the doctor finally said, turning to face them. "The extra joint in his pinky toe... Izuku is quirkless."
The world stopped.
Izuku felt something crack inside his chest, a pain worse than any scraped knee or bumped head. Quirkless. The word echoed in his mind like a death sentence. In a world where 80% of people had quirks, where heroes were celebrated and worshipped, being quirkless meant being... nothing.
"There must be some mistake," Inko said, her voice trembling. "Please, check again—"
"I'm sorry, Midoriya-san. The X-rays are clear. Your son will not develop a quirk."
Izuku felt tears streaming down his face. He looked up at Kaito, his perfect big brother with his amazing powers, and saw something he'd never seen before in those blue eyes.
Fury.
"That doesn't matter," Kaito said, his voice low and intense. His eyes—were they glowing slightly? "Izuku is going to be a hero. Quirk or no quirk, he's the bravest, smartest, most determined person I know. He's my brother, and he's going to be amazing."
Dr. Ujiko raised an eyebrow. "Young man, perhaps you should be more realistic—"
"No." Kaito stood up, and suddenly he seemed taller, more imposing despite being only nine years old. "You don't know him like I do. You don't know what he's capable of."
"Kai..." Izuku sniffled, wiping his eyes.
Kaito knelt down in front of him, hands on his shoulders. "Listen to me, Izu. This doesn't change anything. You hear me? Nothing. We're still gonna be heroes together. I'll just have to work a little harder to keep up with you."
Despite everything, Izuku let out a wet laugh. "Keep up with me? You can fly, Kai."
"Yeah, but you've got something way more important." Kaito tapped Izuku's chest, right over his heart. "You've got this. You've got the spirit of a true hero. I've seen it every day since you were born. That's not something a quirk can give you."
The ride home was quiet except for Inko's soft crying. Izuku stared out the window, his All Might action figure clutched in his hands. Could someone without a quirk really become a hero? Everyone said it was impossible. Even All Might, his idol, was the strongest because of his quirk.
When they got home, Kaito immediately pulled Izuku to their shared room. Over the years, even though they had separate rooms, Izuku often ended up in Kaito's, and eventually they'd just made it official. The walls were covered with All Might posters and drawings—most of them done by Izuku.
"Come here," Kaito said, pulling out his laptop. "I want to show you something."
He pulled up video after video. Not of All Might or other top heroes, but of support heroes. Rescue specialists. Underground heroes who used gadgets and strategy instead of flashy quirks.
"Look at Eraserhead," Kaito pointed to a grainy video of the underground hero. "His quirk is strong, sure, but you know what makes him really dangerous? His capture weapon. His strategy. His fighting skills. Things anyone can learn with enough dedication."
Izuku watched, transfixed.
"And look at All Might," Kaito continued, pulling up analysis videos. "Yeah, he's got an incredible quirk. But watch how he moves. How he thinks three steps ahead. How he always knows exactly what to say to make people feel safe. That's not his quirk, Izu. That's him."
"But Kai, everyone keeps saying—"
"I don't care what everyone says." Kaito's voice was firm. "You want to know what I think? I think you're going to change the world, Izuku. With or without a quirk. You know why?"
Izuku shook his head.
"Because you care more than anyone I've ever met. When we watch hero videos, you don't just watch the fights. You analyze everything. You take notes on their techniques, their strategies, their rescue methods. You're four years old and you already think like a hero."
Kaito pulled out a notebook from his desk drawer. "I got you something. I was gonna wait for your birthday, but I think you need it now."
It was a blank notebook, the cover a deep green. On the front, Kaito had carefully written in his neat handwriting: "Hero Analysis for the Future, Volume 1."
"Start writing down everything you notice about heroes," Kaito said. "Every technique, every strategy, every way they solve problems. Build up your knowledge. And when we're old enough, I'll train you in combat. Between your brain and my strength, we'll make you the most prepared hero student UA has ever seen."
"UA?" Izuku's eyes widened. The most prestigious hero school in Japan.
"UA," Kaito confirmed. "We're both going there. And we're both going to graduate at the top of our class. You'll see."
Izuku looked at the notebook, then at his brother, and felt something rekindling in his chest. Hope. Small and fragile, but there.
"You really think I can do it?"
Kaito pulled him into a hug, and Izuku felt the warmth and strength of his brother surrounding him. "I don't think, Izu. I know. You're going to be an amazing hero. And I'm going to be right there beside you every step of the way."
That Evening
Inko knocked softly on their door, finding both boys on Kaito's bed. Izuku had fallen asleep against Kaito's shoulder, his new notebook clutched to his chest. Kaito had one arm around him protectively, his other hand gently running through Izuku's green curls.
"Is he okay?" she whispered.
Kaito looked up, and Inko was struck by how mature he seemed in that moment. "He will be. It's going to be hard, Mama. Really hard. But Izuku's stronger than people think."
"And you?" Inko sat on the edge of the bed. "This is a lot for you to take on, Kaito. You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do." Kaito's voice was gentle but absolute. "He's my brother. My responsibility. My family. I'd do anything for him."
Inko felt tears welling up again. "You're too young to have to worry about all this."
Kaito smiled, that bright hopeful smile that could light up a room. "I'm not worried, Mama. I know Izuku. He's going to prove everyone wrong. And when he does, I'm going to be so proud to call him my brother."
He looked down at the sleeping four-year-old in his arms. "Besides, I made him a promise when he was born. I'm gonna protect him forever. That includes protecting his dreams."
Inko leaned over and kissed both of her sons' foreheads. "You two are going to change the world someday. I just know it."
After she left, Kaito carefully shifted Izuku into a more comfortable position, making sure not to wake him. Through the window, he could see the stars—those same stars he'd fallen from nine years ago.
He didn't remember his arrival, didn't remember where he'd truly come from. But he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he'd been sent here for a reason. And maybe, just maybe, that reason was sitting right here beside him.
His little brother, who would face a world that told him he couldn't achieve his dreams.
"I won't let them break you, Izuku," Kaito whispered into the darkness. "I promise. We're going to make it. Together."
In his sleep, Izuku smiled and clutched his notebook tighter.
And somewhere in the night, a Symbol of Peace continued his patrol, unaware that two brothers had just sworn to follow in his footsteps.
One with power beyond measure.
One with a heart that refused to give up.
Both destined to become the heroes the world needed.