As Izuku was walking back home, he heard a loud explosion in the distance. Out of pure curiosity, he began heading in that direction—and to his horror, he saw it: the sludge villain. What was it doing here? Why was it even out in the open? All Might had it in his pocket—Then it hit him. It must've slipped out when he grabbed onto All Might. This was his fault.
A poor civilian was suffocating, trapped in that thing because of him. Izuku's eyes darted to the face of the person being strangled by the villain—and then he saw it. Two red eyes filled with pure fear. It was his friend. Katsuki Bakugo. Before he even realized it, Izuku made a mad dash toward the villain.
POV Change
Accelerator wasn't having a good day, Giran basically forced him to travel across the fucking city to to drop off a box and the walk was exhausting. Now he got another delivery, took a left into a different street and he saw it, to his utmost irritation it was a villain attack, a large crowd was formed and the police and heroes were blocking the scene. Accelerator went into his pocket and picked up his phone, he only had about 15 minutes to drop this off before Giran starts deducting pay, he began looking on maps for different routes but other routes would take him about 20-25 minutes to get there.
Accelerator's finger hovered over the map screen, eyes twitching at the blinking red lines warning of traffic and blockades. "Tch. This city's a damn mess." Just as he was about to search for another route, movement caught his eye. A green-haired kid—skinny, frantic—was charging straight toward the sludge villain, screaming something about saving his friend. The crowd gasped, the heroes barked for backup, and the villain only grinned wider, wrapping tighter around the blond hostage boy. "Is this guy serious?" Accelerator muttered. He watched for three more seconds. Then he clicked his tongue. "...Fucking hell."
With that, the strongest esper in history pocketed his phone, stepped off the curb, and walked straight past the barricades like he owned the place. A nearby officer tried to stop him, but one glare from those red eyes made the man freeze mid-step. The heroes didn't notice him—too busy freaking out over the green-haired kid diving into the mess. The sludge villain noticed, though. It hissed. "Another hero wannabe? You brats are really starting to piss me off!" Accelerator didn't respond. He just stood there and everything stopped.
The sludge villain's body convulsed, warping as unseen forces twisted the air around it. Bakugou, still struggling inside the mass, suddenly found himself spat out like garbage, coughing and gasping for air. Izuku, who'd been clawing at the sludge with zero effect, stumbled back, wide-eyed. "What…?" Accelerator stepped forward, arms slack at his sides. A chunk of sludge shot toward him in a rage—and immediately reversed, slamming back into the villain's own face like it hit a wall made of its own matter.
"You're made of liquid," Accelerator said dryly. "You ever wonder what happens when the pressure outside you becomes equal to the pressure inside you—but inverted?" The sludge villain shrieked as its body twisted and compacted, crushed under invisible force. "I'm on a tight schedule, asshole," Accelerator muttered, turning away as the villain's body collapsed into an inert puddle. The pros finally noticed him then. "Hey! Who are you—?!" Accelerator ignored them. Izuku stared at him in total shock, speechless. "You two alive?" Accelerator asked, glancing over his shoulder. Izuku could only nod. Bakugou, coughing and heaving on the pavement, looked equally stunned. "Good. Then don't waste it." With that, Accelerator walked off, vanishing into the crowd before the pros could even get his name. He pulled his phone out again, checked the time. "Still got ten minutes. Giran can kiss my ass."
TIMESKIP
The last delivery was finally over.
Accelerator slammed the door of the convenience store shut behind him, the cheap little bell above it jingling uselessly. He shoved his phone into his pocket, ignoring the two unread messages from Giran. Something about "next gig" and "pick up more boxes." He didn't care.
"Work's done. He can bite me," Accelerator muttered, rolling his neck as he walked. His boots crunched over broken pavement as he cut through the backstreets. A few stray cats scattered from behind a rusted-out vending machine, and the dull buzz of sodium streetlights painted long shadows as he made his way east—toward the coast.
A breeze hit him as he neared the edge of the city. The air was salty, grimy, heavy with the scent of oil, old rubber, and sun-baked garbage. He stepped over a collapsed chain-link fence, its "KEEP OUT" sign dangling by a single wire.
And then he saw it. Dagobah Beach. A trash heap pretending to be a shoreline. Fridges, tires, smashed furniture, and twisted metal stretched from one end of the sand to the other, choking the coastline like a landfill's final gasp. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting everything in an orange-gray haze.
Accelerator stared at it. "…Classy." He made his way down the hill, stepping over a torn car seat and a broken microwave. Every footfall crunched against shards of old glass and discarded plastic.
He eventually found a mostly clean slab of concrete jutting out of the sand—probably a piece of a foundation from a building long gone. He sat on it, elbows on knees, silently watching the waves roll in and crash against a pile of waterlogged tires.
He leaned back, resting against the cool concrete, and shut his eyes. Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then—footsteps. Accelerator's eyes snapped open. He didn't move, didn't look. Just listened. Cautious steps. Not police. Not a pro hero. Too light, too unsure.
Then a voice. "…Uh, hi?" Accelerator tilted his head slightly. Standing a few meters away, fiddling with his sleeves, was Izuku Midoriya.
Flashback
Izuku Midoriya could be seen with his head low, after Katsuki's arrogant way of saying thank you he now was stuck with the thought of how he could find a new career path. He was busy sulking until he saw a large figure bursting from an alley. The towering figure of the Symbol of Peace stood in front of him, his usual grin replaced with something softer. Something… thoughtful. "Y-You're here?" Izuku stammered. "I thought you were—wait, are you okay? The sludge villain—" All Might raised a hand. "Handled."
"I've come to thank you… and to revise what I said earlier," All Might said, his voice steady. "I also have a proposal." Izuku looked up, stunned. "Out of everyone at the scene, it was you—timid, quirkless—you were the only one who moved! You spurred me into action!" All Might stepped closer, his voice rising with conviction. "Most top heroes show signs of greatness even as children. They often say the same thing… that their bodies moved before they had time to think." Izuku dropped to his knees, overwhelmed, hands clenched tightly at his sides. His whole body trembled. Tears welled up and spilled freely, tracing hot lines down his cheeks as his breath hitched. "All Might…" he whispered, barely able to speak. All Might smiled. "You can be a hero."
"It was what I'd always wanted to hear—from anyone. And my idol was the one who said it to me. Could I ever wish for anything more?" Izuku thought, his heart pounding in his chest, eyes still brimming with tears. All Might's massive hand rested gently on his shoulder. "I believe you're worth inheriting my power!!" he said, voice booming with conviction.
Izuku blinked, stunned. "Inheriting… your power?" he echoed, barely able to process the words. All Might smiled—not with the blinding grin he showed the public, but a genuine, heartfelt expression. "My power is yours to take, if you're willing to walk this path. It won't be easy—your body isn't ready yet. But if you're prepared to fight, to bleed, and to rise again… then you can become the next symbol of peace."
Izuku stood frozen for a moment… then his eyes went wide. "W-wait, hold on—your power?! I mean, how does that even work? Powers aren't just… transferable, right?! There's no precedent, no scientific backing, no record of—wait, wait, does this mean quirks can be inherited? Passed down?! Is that how your power works?! Or is it like some kind of unique mutation—? No, wait, maybe it's some kind of external factor—nutritional supplements? Genetic manipulation? Do I need surgery?!" He kept rambling, pacing in circles, completely overwhelmed.
"QUIT NERDING OUT!!" All Might shouted, whacking Izuku lightly on the head with the edge of his palm. Izuku yelped and froze. All Might folded his arms. "Listen closely. My Quirk… it's called One For All. It's a sacred torch, passed from one person to another. Each wielder adds their strength to the last, and with every transfer, the power grows. That's how I became what I am today."
"But… all this… Why?" Izuku asked, voice shaking. "Why me?" All Might crouched slightly to meet his eyes. "You may be quirkless—a mere admirer of heroes. But back there… you were more heroic than anyone else!!" Izuku's breath caught in his throat. "I've been searching for a successor for a while now," All Might continued, his tone firm but kind. "And I believe that you are worthy!! But of course… it all depends on you." He held out his hand. "What do you say?" Izuku wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his sleeve, his hands still trembling. He looked up, heart full. "I accept!" he said, voice cracking with emotion. "I have no reason to refuse!"
The sun had begun to dip toward the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across Musutafu as Izuku Midoriya walked alone through the streets. His backpack hung loosely over one shoulder, his green uniform wrinkled and dust-smudged from the earlier chaos. But he didn't notice. His mind was still racing.
All Might chose me… Even just thinking it sent a fresh wave of disbelief crashing over him. His legs felt like they were moving on autopilot, carrying him through the city without a real destination in mind—until his feet stopped at the edge of a familiar place.
Dagobah Municipal Beach Park.
It was quieter than usual, the air filled only with the soft crashing of waves and the distant cries of gulls. The beach was still a mess—piles of trash, discarded appliances, rusted metal all scattered like forgotten memories. But Izuku didn't care. The chaos of the shoreline somehow matched the whirlwind inside his chest.
But then he saw him—the white-haired kid who saved his life. Mustering every single ounce of courage he had, he walked up to him.
Flashback End
The green-haired kid looked unsure of himself, like he'd been rehearsing what to say and forgot the lines the second he opened his mouth. "…You again," Accelerator said flatly. "Didn't you get your daily dose of trauma already?" Izuku scratched the back of his neck. "Y-yeah, I mean… kind of. I just… wanted to thank you." Accelerator blinked. "For what? Not letting you die horribly while the pros stood around with their dicks in their hands? Izuku flinched but nodded. Accelerator sighed and looked back at the ocean. "Whatever. Doesn't change anything."
Izuku swallowed but smiled faintly. "So… what's your name, anyway?" Accelerator scoffed, folding his arms. "Accelerator." Izuku tilted his head. "Oh, like an alias?" "Nope," Accelerator said flatly. Izuku nodded, impressed despite his earlier. "Huh. That's… pretty cool." A brief silence fell, the waves crashing softly in the background. Izuku took a deep breath. "Thanks again. For what you did back there." Accelerator's unreadable gaze met his. After a pause, he muttered, "Don't mention it." Izuku searched his face, hoping for something more, but found nothing.
Izuku was about to leave, but in one last-ditch effort to make a friend, he called out, "My mom's making katsudon for dinner. Want to come? I'm sure there's enough." Accelerator let out a quiet sigh, glancing off to the side. "Tch… whatever. Katsudon's fine." He didn't move at first, but then nodded slightly. "Lead the way, broccoli boy." Izuku's heart skipped a beat, a small smile breaking through his nervousness.