James stepped out of the quiet alley and back onto the sun-dappled suburban street, the faint scent of cherry blossoms still clinging to his hoodie.
Musutafu felt alive in a way Mystic Falls never had—every person carried a spark of power, a Quirk humming just beneath the surface.
He could sense it, even without full hydrokinesis anymore: the subtle vibrations in the air, the way moisture gathered around people who unconsciously manipulated it. His own limited water powers felt almost… at home here.
He didn't head straight for the city center. Instead, he turned back toward the modest two-story house he'd glimpsed earlier—the one with the green door and the potted plants on the porch. Izuku Midoriya's home.
As he approached, the front door opened.
A boy stepped out—fourteen, green hair slightly messy, freckles dusting his cheeks, wearing a simple white T-shirt and dark shorts.
He carried a worn notebook under one arm and a water bottle in the other. His posture was straight, shoulders squared in a way that spoke of quiet confidence rather than the timid hunch James remembered from the early canon scenes.
This Izuku had learned Kung Fu. It showed in the balanced way he moved, the calm readiness in his stance.
Izuku paused when he noticed James standing on the sidewalk, looking directly at him.
"Um… hello?" Izuku said, voice polite but cautious. "Can I help you?"
James raised a hand in a casual wave. "Hey. I'm new around here. Just moved in nearby. Saw you coming out and thought… maybe we could talk? Privately. Nothing weird, I promise. Just… I've got some questions, and you seem like someone who might understand."
Izuku tilted his head, green eyes narrowing slightly. He glanced back at the house—his mom was probably inside—then back at James. Something in James's calm demeanor must have reassured him, because after a moment he nodded.
"Okay. There's a small park around the corner. It's usually empty this time of day."
They walked in silence for a minute. James kept his pace easy, hands in his pockets, giving Izuku space. The boy didn't fidget or ramble nervously like his canon counterpart might have. He walked with purpose, eyes scanning the street out of habit—alert, not paranoid.
The park was indeed quiet: a small playground with a single swing set, a bench under a sakura tree shedding petals, and no one else around. Izuku sat on the bench. James sat beside him, leaving enough space to feel non-threatening.
Izuku broke the silence first. "You said you wanted to talk privately. What about?"
James looked at him—really looked. The notebook under Izuku's arm was filled with neat handwriting and sketches of hero moves. Determination burned in those green eyes, tempered by years of being told he was nothing.
"I know you're Quirkless," James said gently.
Izuku stiffened, but didn't flinch. He met James's gaze steadily. "Yeah. I am. Most people don't say it that bluntly."
"I'm not most people." James leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I wanted to ask… how does it feel? Being Quirkless in a world where almost everyone has something."
Izuku exhaled slowly, staring at the ground where petals had gathered. "It used to hurt a lot. When I was little, I dreamed of being a hero like All Might. Everyone else got their Quirks, and I… didn't. Kids mocked me. Called me useless. Even my best friend, well, he wasn't really a friend anymore, would explode things near me just to prove how different we were."
He paused, fingers tightening around the notebook.
"But I got used to it. The mocking never stopped, but I did something about it. I started training. Martial arts. Kung Fu. It wasn't a Quirk, but it was mine. Every time someone tried to push me down, I stood back up. I learned how to block, how to dodge, how to hit back if I had to. It didn't make the words stop, but it made me stop feeling helpless."
Izuku looked up then, a small, determined smile on his face.
"So… it feels a little bad sometimes. But not worse. I'm used to it. And I'm still going to be a hero. Quirk or no Quirk. I'll find a way."
James felt something shift inside him, respect, admiration, a quiet ache for the boy who refused to break.
"That's a hell of an answer," he said softly. "Stronger than most people with Quirks."
Izuku blinked, surprised. "Thanks… I think?"
Before James could reply, the air shimmered blue.
The mysterious screen materialized in front of him—visible only to his eyes—floating at chest height like a translucent panel of light.
OFFER: QUIRK AWAKENING
Would you like to awaken Izuku Midoriya's dormant Quirk?
Note: This will activate a latent ability that has remained hidden due to psychological suppression and lack of early manifestation. Izuku will gain full control over the awakened Quirk, though he must train to discover its deeper applications.
Accept? Y / N
James stared at the text.
Dormant Quirk.
In canon, Izuku was truly Quirkless, diagnosed, confirmed, no hidden power. But this timeline had already diverged: Kung Fu training, James's arrival, All Might healed. And now this.
He thought of Izuku's words. Of the boy who stood up for himself without power. Of the hero he would become with One For All… or without.
Giving him a Quirk now might change everything. Might take away the struggle that forged him into Deku. Or it might give him the tool he'd always deserved.
James looked at Izuku—waiting patiently, unaware of the screen.
He made his choice.
"Yes."
The screen flashed green once—soft, almost gentle.
A faint golden glow shimmered around Izuku for half a second—too quick for anyone else to notice. The boy blinked, frowning.
"I… felt something. Like a shiver, but warm."
James leaned forward. "Izuku. Close your eyes. Focus on the feeling of water. Imagine it in your hand—cool, flowing, under your control."
Izuku obeyed, brow furrowing in concentration.
Nothing happened at first.
Then—a thin stream of water rose from the air itself, coiling around his right hand like a living ribbon. It shimmered, clear and perfect, forming a flexible whip that snapped once in the air before settling back into a gentle swirl.
Izuku's eyes flew open. "What—?!"
He flexed his fingers. The whip obeyed—lengthening, shortening, curling protectively around his arm. He waved his other hand, and a translucent disk of water materialized in front of him—thin, curved, like a shield. A petal fell onto it and slid harmlessly off.
"I… I have a Quirk?" His voice cracked. "But the doctors said—"
"They were wrong," James said quietly. "Or maybe it was always there, waiting. Suppressed. Hidden. Until now."
Izuku stared at the water whip, then at the shield. Tears welled in his eyes—not from sadness, but from sheer, overwhelming joy.
"I can… I can do this. I can be a hero. For real."
James smiled. "You were always going to be. This just makes it easier."
Izuku looked at him—really looked. "Did you… do this? Somehow?"
James hesitated, then shook his head. "I can't take credit. Let's just say… the world decided you deserved a chance. Focus on training it. Water's versatile. Whips for offense, shields for defense. You'll discover more as you practice—waves, projectiles, maybe even healing properties if you push it. But start small. Don't overdo it on day one."
Izuku nodded rapidly, notebook already open, pen flying across the page as he sketched the whip and shield. "Right. Control. Precision. I need to test range, pressure, temperature resistance… oh man, I have so many notes to take!"
James stood. "I'll leave you to it. But if you ever need someone to spar with—someone who won't hold back—look for me around here. I'm not going anywhere yet."
Izuku looked up, eyes shining. "Thank you. Really. Whoever you are… thank you."
James gave a small salute. "Just keep standing up for yourself, kid. You're already doing it better than most."
He turned and walked away, leaving Izuku in the park—water whip curling around his wrist like a bracelet, shield flickering in and out as he experimented with a grin that could light up the city.
The mysterious screen did not reappear.
James rounded the corner, heart pounding with something like pride. He'd changed the story again—not by force, not by conquest, but by giving a boy the tool he'd always deserved.
Now it was time to go home.
He focused on the mental tether.
Soul Space.
The world blurred.
When it cleared, he stood once more in the endless meadow—sun warm, lake sparkling, mansion glowing in the distance. His wives were already running toward him.
Hope reached him first, leaping into his arms with tribrid strength. "You were gone forever!"
Jozie slid in beside her, siphoning a playful burst of energy that made flowers bloom around their feet. "Tell us everything. Did you fight anyone? See any cool Quirks?"
Hayley Kirby sauntered up last, golden eyes gleaming. "You smell like cherry blossoms and teenage determination. Spill, King."
James laughed—deep, free—and pulled them all close.
"I met a kid who's going to change the world," he said. "And I gave him a little help."
Hope raised an eyebrow. "A Quirk?"
James nodded. "Water. Like mine, but his. He's going to be incredible."
Jozie grinned. "You're such a softie under the OP exterior."
Hayley Kirby nipped his ear. "Our softie. Now come inside. We've got a hot spring with your name on it."
James let them lead him toward the mansion, his wives, his queens, his home in any world.