1 CH:1 Spark of hope and youth

Inside a dark room a young child is crying. All over the walls there are posters of the same man. The symbol of peace, the strongest Hero. When her oldest child showed no indication of manifesting a quirk, unlike the youngest witch was born with a purple butterfly shaped like a mask between his eyes. She decided to take her child to the doctor to see why he showed no signs of quirk manifestation. The answer they got was devastating. He was simply born without a quirk, an answer that ripped his heath apart. The second he got back home he started watching videos about all might and crying. It truly was a hearth breaking sight, he who was so kind to others.

He watched again and again that bright smile, a bright smile that could bring a sort of calm to whoever was watching. Like everything was going to turn out ok. He looked up at his mother, eyes red from crying still threatening to overflow.

"Can I ever be a hero" he asked with a shivering voice. Clinging to the slightest bit of hope that he could, he would be able to save others. Unable to answer his mother only brought his head into her chest. Softly sobbing about how fate could be so cruel. The dark and dreary atmosphere was like a heavy cloud filling the room. With only the video about the mighty all might on repeat on the pc. But that did not last long.

*Boom*

A young child came running inn. Identical to the other. The only difference being his freckles was like the number five on a dice and he had a purple shaped butterfly mark on his forehead. He rushed inn like a comet and jumped onto the bed. Grabbing the attention from his brother and mother. Trying to look like a mighty man he takes a pose and start shouting.

"Brother. Let me tell you a tale about hope, handwork, YOUTH and a green spandex". As he talks a phantom of a bowl cut man with a pair of bushy brows smiles at his brother. With the roars of clashing waves against the shore. And so, he spew a tale, a tale of a mighty man and terrifying opponents. How he trained against his rival, how everyone looked at him with like he was weird for doing what he believed in. How he decided to sacrifice himself and fight a god who whooped the strong leaders around like toy's. How he beat the living shit out of god, unable to kill him. But singelhandly hold him of until reinforcement came.

While he was talking his older brother was captivated. Taking inn his words like a fanatic believer of a cult. Looking at her children, one helping the other find hope while the other finally smile again. She sneaks out unnoticed, both children completely captivated by storytelling and said story. Gently she closes the door and break down crying. Guilt, anxiety and other dark thoughts had been eating her alive. Watching her eldest have his hearth broken by the cold hard truth, unable to even begin chasing his dream. Not even having the qualification to compete. She truly was thankful for her youngest. Helping his brother when she did not even know what to do.