This morning in Mustafa was particularly pleasant. The cloudless sky, light warm breeze, and gentle sun seemed to hint that there was no need to rush anywhere today. On days like this, you want to wander wherever your eyes take you, enjoying the beauty of the streets and the greenery of the parks, spending time with friends or family.
That's what most people thought — except for the adults who were rushing to work, afraid of being late, and the teenagers who were reluctantly trudging to school to avoid their parents' scolding.
At the school in Oruedero, as soon as the sun touched the rooftops, alarm clocks rang. Students suppressed yawns, got out of bed, put on their uniforms, and went to the bathroom to wash up. For them, this day was no different from yesterday.
Except...
"Why me..." whispered a boy dejectedly, sitting on his knees in the middle of his room. He was barely holding back tears, staring at the floor as if he could find the answer to his question there.
For a boy named Izuku Midoriya, this day would forever remain one of the most shameful days of his life.
It was all because of his strange curse, which he himself called "Cartoon Choice." He never understood where it came from or what its source was. But he knew one thing for sure: he couldn't refuse to make a choice. And if he dared not to, his head would be pierced by unbearable pain. He had experienced it once... and never took the risk again.
Two years ago.
That day, Izuku decided to take a walk in the park after school. Fresh air and silence were just what he needed. Sometimes he simply had to be alone. The constant teasing about his lack of quirks and his mother's suffocating overprotectiveness were wearing him down. He was walking down the alley, breathing in the smell of grass and wet earth after the morning dew, when he suddenly noticed something on the side of the road... a dirty, crumpled, explicit magazine. He was about to walk past it when he heard a clear voice in his head:
"Choose."
Lines flashed before his eyes, hovering above the ground like choice windows in a romantic game. Izuku froze. Was it a joke? Someone's whim? But when he turned around, he saw no one.
The voice repeated, this time more insistently:
"Choose."
And then he read what was written in front of him...
There was a choice between:
[1. Masturbate to pictures of naked girls.]
[2. Sniff photos from a porn magazine.]
Izuku stared at the lines floating in front of him, blinking more and more rapidly, as if that would make them disappear. If this was a joke, it had crossed every line imaginable.
He spun around, looking for the slightest hint of someone's presence. But all around him was an empty alley, only distant figures of passers-by and the rustling of leaves. And the words... the words began to multiply. They flashed on the sidewalk, appeared on the cracked ground, lined up on the sign of the nearest kiosk, and even flickered in the air like neon advertisements. Wherever he looked, it was the same thing — these two options.
"Choose."
"No... I won't!" he blurted out.
At that very moment, a sharp, almost unbearable pain pierced his head. It hit him so hard that he clutched his temples with his hands, clenching his teeth, and the voice inside became more insistent, almost furious:
"Choose."
Realizing that otherwise he would simply collapse on the spot, Izuku exhaled in panic, clenched his fists... and chose the second option.
With trembling hands, he picked up the magazine from the ground, opened it, and, closing his eyes, pressed the page sharply against his face. It was stupid, ridiculous, disgusting — and that was exactly why his face instantly flushed red.
If only no one saw... if only no one saw...
But then he heard a voice;
"Hey!"
Midorija jerked so violently that he almost dropped the magazine. His heart instantly sank, and a cold wave of horror ran down his spine. Slowly, with the expression of a man walking to his execution, he turned his head toward the voice...
A few steps away stood a strange child—noticeable for his purple hair, which was shaped like a ball. Probably just a quirk.
"Yes, you! That's my magazine, actually!" he said discontentedly.
Inside, Izuku had already made up his mind to run away immediately and never return.
"This... someone played a joke on me and... made me smell it," he stammered, waving his hands as if he could erase what had happened with that gesture.
"Yeah, right, I believe you," the boy said skeptically, narrowing his eyes.
"It's true! And anyway, you... how can you read something like that? You're just a kid!" Izuku blurted out, suddenly remembering that he was probably older than him.
"You...," the boy stammered, clearly hurt. His eyes moistened. "I'm not a child! It's just my height!" He pointed at Izuku. "I'm twelve years old, actually!"
Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but...
"Choose."
The voice returned. And it was much scarier than the boy's angry glare.
The familiar translucent choice plates flashed before his face again:
[1. Throw the magazine in his face and run away.]
[2. Continue sniffing the photos.]
"What the..." was all he managed to mutter before he was called out again:
"Give me back my magazine!" demanded the purple-haired boy, clenching his fists.
Izuku froze for a couple of seconds. Thoughts raced through his mind: "If I choose the second option, I'll become the official town lunatic. If I choose the first, I'll run away, but I might get hit in the back with that magazine."
"Okay, better run..."
Grabbing the ill-fated magazine by the edge, he threw it at the boy like a baseball. The paper "projectile" landed softly but with a stinging slap right on his face.
"Ouch!" he yelped, losing his balance.
Without waiting for a response, Midoriya ran away, shouting as he went:
"I'm sorry! It wasn't me, it was... a long story!"
He ran until his lungs were on fire and his legs felt like jelly. When he got home, he collapsed against the door, gasping for air.
***
From that day on, the multichoice wouldn't leave him alone. It would appear suddenly and make him do things that caused his neighbors to look at him with suspicion, and some even whispered that Midoria had gone mad because of some quirk he didn't have.
But his mother was even more alarmed.
Izuku had no choice but to tell his mother the truth. Inko listened to him, snorted skeptically, but still said that she didn't see anything wrong with it — let him do his weird things, as long as they didn't hurt anyone. However, she soon began to notice that the multichoice sometimes affected not only her son, but also the world around him.
He remembered one incident well. It was a clear morning with not a cloud in the sky, and the sun was so hot that the asphalt began to glisten. Suddenly, a choice appeared before his eyes:
[1. It will rain very hard at school.]
[2. Lightning will strike the school.]
Izuku stared at the signs in bewilderment. What nonsense? he thought, and, choosing the more "harmless" option, continued on his way.
When he entered the classroom, a downpour of such intensity hit the school that the glass windows shook from the impact of the raindrops. And the strangest thing was that the rain clouds hung only over the school building. Outside, the sun was still shining.
The story quickly spread across social media: students posted photos and videos, discussed it in chat rooms, and even a whole thread appeared on Reddit trying to solve the "Mustafa mystery." There were many versions: from a weather experiment to a prank by a student with a penchant for weather control. But no one ever came to a unanimous conclusion.
And this was far from an isolated incident. Sometimes snow would unexpectedly fall on the school — right in the middle of spring. Once, one of the classrooms was found filled to the brim with porn magazines. And there was another case when a tied-up villain was suddenly discovered in the principal's office, who, according to him, was "just passing by."
Of course, all these events were caused by the cursed multichoice. But no one knew about this except Izuku himself.
But even that didn't seem the strangest thing — although it was strange, like everything else in his life. The real shock came during school lunch.
Three bullies, as usual, decided to "borrow" his food. Izuku braced himself for another scene of humiliation, but this time the selection plates looked... different:
[1. They'll have diarrhea for the rest of their lives.
[2. They will vomit violently.]
He froze. The choices were downright evil.
Izuku frantically ran through the options in his head — both seemed terrible, but one was clearly worse. Forever? He even shuddered at the thought. So, with a heavy heart, he chose the second option.
The result was immediate: the trio had barely moved away from the table when they were seized by cramps. They got down on all fours, clutching their stomachs, and vomited right in front of everyone.
Accusations flew instantly. He was called a poisoner, the police were called, and the food was inspected. But the tests showed that there was nothing unusual in it. The parents of the victims tried to insist otherwise, but no evidence was found.
Since then, no one has tried to steal his lunch. However, that wasn't the main reason why the students started to stay away from him, and it wasn't just about the food. Rumors gradually spread throughout the school: something strange was going on with Midoria. Too strange. It seemed that those who had hit him even once somehow... got their comeuppance, their offenders got what they deserved. Especially Katsuki.
Of course, that didn't stop them from glaring at him or whispering behind his back, but now, with rare exceptions, no one dared to lay a hand on him. For Izuku, it was a strange relief: better to be considered a weirdo with a bad aura than to be beaten up again.
These oddities prompted Izuku to start keeping notes. He called it "absolute choice" and filled notebooks with theories and guesses. Sometimes he caught himself thinking, "What if this is just my quirk after all?"
Medicine said it was impossible, but quirks weren't fully understood. And checking the joints in his toes wasn't the only way to diagnose it. What if the doctor was just wrong?
That didn't change the main thing: now people saw him as a weirdo... or a nutcase.
***
So all that was left was to choose the least bad option. Sighing, the guy quietly said:
"The second one." As soon as the words left his lips, the letters floating before his eyes dissolved into thin air. "I hope this day doesn't get any worse," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Getting up from the floor, he didn't even bother to get dressed and headed for the bathroom. While brushing his teeth, Izuku stared thoughtfully at the mirror. Staring back at him was a fourteen-year-old teenager: freckles, tousled green hair darkening to a marshy shade at the ends, round emerald eyes, and soft features that gave him a slightly harmless, almost childlike appearance.
After finishing his morning routine—rinsing his mouth, washing his face with ice-cold water, and drying his face and hands with a towel—he left the bathroom and went downstairs to the kitchen. There, at the table, his mother, Inko Midoria, was already waiting for him.
"Good morning, Izuku," she greeted him with a gentle smile. But her expression quickly changed when she noticed that her son was standing in front of her wearing only his underwear. "I-Izuku... why aren't you wearing any clothes?" There was a hint of surprise in her voice.
"It's...," he said, mechanically glancing down at himself and shrugging his shoulders. "Well... I need to be naked for a while. I hope you don't mind?" He tried to smile, but it came out nervous.
"Is this because of the curse of choice?" Inko frowned, her voice already betraying her familiar irritation.
"Yes!" the guy replied immediately, almost with relief.
"And what was the choice this time?" his mother asked with a sigh, but her expression already revealed that she suspected the answer would not please her.
"The choice was between 'spending the whole day completely naked' and 'spending the whole day in my underwear and shoes.' Obviously, I chose the latter," Midoria replied dryly, sitting down at the table.
"I see..." Inko nodded, but the corners of her lips twitched into a restrained smile. She knew very well that her son didn't find it funny, but it was difficult to resist the irony. "All right, you eat, and I'll make your favorite katsudon for dinner. Don't worry about the teachers, I'll explain everything to them."
At these words, Izuku's eyes lit up — his mother's favorite dish had always been the best medicine for him when he was upset.
They continued their breakfast without mentioning the curse of choice. The conversation smoothly shifted to heroes and their quirks. Izuku did most of the talking, gesturing enthusiastically and almost jumping up and down with excitement, while Inko listened, occasionally interjecting and asking clarifying questions. He answered each of her questions with such enthusiasm, as if he were defending a thesis on who was stronger — Best Jinist or Edge Shot.
Finishing breakfast and quickly clearing the dishes, Izuku put on his red boots and left the house. He immediately felt the sidelong glances of passersby: some grunted, some laughed openly, and the particularly "talented" ones took out their phones to film the guy running down the street in his underwear and boots.
Midoriya tried not to pay attention... until his gaze was caught by a commotion ahead. A battle was unfolding between a hero and a villain on one of the streets. His heart began to beat faster — the familiar excitement replaced his awkwardness. He immediately quickened his pace, taking a worn notebook out of his bag.
No matter what anyone said, even without his own quirks, he was in love with heroism... and with the detailed analysis of every fight.
Pushing his way through the dense crowd, Izuku tried to get as close as possible to the barrier held by the hero nicknamed Reverse Thrust. The transparent wall of swirling water rippled, reflecting the sun's glare.
"Who's fighting?" he asked the nearest onlooker, trying to shout over the roar of the crowd.
"That's Wooden Komui, a young talent, a rising star among superheroes!" Izuku blurted out admiringly.
"You asked and got a detailed answer. Are you a fan or something?" the man standing next to him smiled friendly, glancing at Izuku.
"Well... yeah, sort of," Midoriya admitted, a little embarrassed, scratching his cheek.
The man was about to turn back to the fight, but then his gaze slid down and he noticed that the teenager was wearing only red boots and plain shorts.
"Um... why are you wearing only shorts?" he asked with genuine surprise.
Izuku looked at him and only now noticed that his companion had strange shapes in the shape of Latin "X" sticking out of the sides of his head — apparently a quirk.
After a short pause and some internal hesitation, he said:
"Oh... that. Well, it's just a quirk of mine. I have to walk around like this all day today. If I don't, I'll get a terrible headache."
"Ah, I see! I can imagine how that feels," the man laughed. There was no mockery in his laughter.
"Yeah..." Izuku nodded and turned his attention back to the fight.
At that moment, Wooden Komui stepped forward, his voice full of determination, declaring:
"You broke the law and endangered the lives of innocent people!" And without wasting any time, he began his transformation.
The skin on his hands darkened, covering himself with rough bark, his fingers stretched out, turning into flexible branches. Thin veins ran along them, as if on a living tree. The crowd gasped, anticipating the final blow.
"Oh, here it comes!" Izuku exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the battlefield.
"Come on, wooden man, show us something cool!" encouraged the same man.
"Total..." Izuku began solemnly.
"SHARPENING: PRISON-LAKED CHAINS!" the hero proclaimed loudly, his hands, already transformed into wood, began to rapidly thicken and become covered with dark lacquered bark. Long, twisted branches, as if alive, burst from his outstretched fingers, intertwining into chains.
They lashed out at the villain with force, ready to wrap themselves around his body.
The enemy raised his arms sharply, trying to defend himself, but at that moment a clear female voice rang out over the battlefield:
"CANON CRACK!"
Suddenly, a giant foot the size of a bus emerged from behind the nearest building and slammed into the villain's face with terrifying force. There was a dull thud, and before he could understand what had happened, he collapsed unconscious, knocking a piece of the sidewalk with his head. The crowd gasped, and Wooden Komui froze in place, his arms raised, like a wooden statue.
It turned out to be a giant girl with short blond hair and a confident smile, also dressed as a hero. At the sight of her leaning forward, a significant portion of the male audience—especially the otaku and photographers—simultaneously raised their cameras. The clicking of shutters merged into a continuous trill.
"Today is my first day!" she announced loudly, proudly placing her fist on her hip. "I'm the Mountain Lady. Nice to meet you!" She winked at the crowd, and the clicking of cameras only grew louder.
As the crowd applauded, the girl hero began to shrink rapidly, returning to her normal height. The police officers who had arrived quickly put special chains on the villain, and reporters immediately surrounded the newly minted heroine, showering her with questions.
The crowd began to gradually disperse.
Izuku took out his notebook, opened it to a blank page, and with burning eyes began to hurriedly write down everything he had seen, adding schematic sketches of her technique.
"Gigantification..." Izuku continued to mutter under his breath, hastily jotting down lines in his notebook. "With such a quirk, it's easy to attract attention and quickly gain popularity. But at the same time, there's a major limitation: in large form, it's difficult not to cause damage to the city. Although... if she's able to control her growth..."
"Hey, hey, hey!" interrupted a familiar male voice. "You're taking notes?! You want to be a hero yourself, huh? Way to go, kid!" The man smiled broadly and gave him a thumbs up.
Midorija looked up, and a warm smile spread across his face.
"Yes! I'll try!"
However, glancing at his phone screen, Izuku shuddered — the clock hands mercilessly showed that he was late. Stuffing his notebook and pen into his bag, he thanked the man for his support and rushed off toward the school.
***
He stopped in front of the gate, catching his breath. The thought that he wasn't late after all lifted his spirits slightly... but not for long. As soon as he stepped onto the grounds, he felt a barrage of sidelong, irritated glances directed at him. No one said anything out loud, but the silence and mocking attention spoke for themselves.
Izuku forced himself to look straight ahead, pretending not to notice these reactions. When he reached the classroom, he slipped to his desk as inconspicuously as possible, trying not to attract attention. Of course, it was useless — several classmates were still staring at him... or rather, at him in his underwear and shoes.
"Hey! Look at him!" came a mocking voice from the back of the classroom.
"Is he seriously wearing just his underwear?" another one chuckled.
"Yeah... he's really going for it," muttered a third, low enough for Izuku to hear.
"Midoriiya decided to annoy the teachers again?"
Izuku, feeling dozens of eyes drilling into his back, tried to lighten the mood with a crooked smile:
"I just... decided it was too hot, heh..." His words sounded uncertain, and his forced smile only seemed to increase the tension in the classroom.
A couple of students sitting closer to him involuntarily moved away, as if afraid to be near him. There was something strange in the air — a barely perceptible but unpleasant pressure that made him want to stay away.
And then, as if on cue, that cold, merciless voice that always brought trouble rang in his head:
"Choose."
Semi-transparent icons slowly appeared before his eyes, pulsing as if teasing him:
[1. Say something sexy: "Want to see me naked, baby?"]
[2. Shout, "This is how a real man behaves!"]
Midoria had never tried to speak in a sexy tone in his life — and in principle, he would hardly have been able to. He managed to scare people away with his strange reputation alone. Therefore...
"*Inhale* THIS IS HOW A REAL MAN SHOULD BEHAVE!" he blurted out, so loudly that even the glass in the windows rattled.
The student closest to him flinched as if from an electric shock and, clutching his heart, took a couple of steps back, looking at Izuka with the same expression one might look at a madman who could lunge at any moment. The others weren't as visibly frightened, but an oppressive silence hung in the classroom: his classmates' eyes lingered on him longer than they wanted to, and in those glances there was a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Even Bakugo, who usually didn't care about other people's antics, narrowed his eyes in displeasure — not because he was scared, but because the scream had shaken him to the core.
The frightened student, breathing heavily, had already opened his mouth to protest, but...
"I'm sorry for yelling," Midoriya bowed, and for some reason it didn't look like an apology, but rather a strange ritual, after which he felt even more uncomfortable.
Deciding not to mess with "that weirdo," the kids went back to their conversations, although they kept casting wary glances at him until the lesson began. The door creaked, and their teacher entered the classroom, holding a stack of papers in his hands.
"So, now that you're in third grade, it's time to think seriously about your future. I'm going to hand out career guidance forms, but..." He suddenly smiled slyly, lifted the stack, turned around, and threw the sheets into the air with a swing. "You all..."
"Want to be in the hero group!" the students shouted in unison, instantly beginning to demonstrate their quirks, completely forgetting about school rules.
"Yes, yes, yes, each of you has a great quirk," the teacher grunted, gathering the scattered sheets back together. "But using your powers at school is strictly against the rules."
"Teacher," a haughty voice rang out, "don't put my quirk in the same category as these losers' abilities. My power is on a different level, so don't compare me to these extras."
His classmates murmured in unison, indignant at Katsuki's arrogance and hurling barbs in his direction. But Bakugo just grinned, relishing the opportunity to add fuel to the fire, and responded with a new round of insults, clearly enjoying the moment.
"Oh, if I'm not mistaken, Bakugo wants to get into Yuei High School," the teacher said with interest, as if by accident, not even realizing that these words were like throwing a grenade into a crowd.
The indignant remarks in the classroom instantly fell silent, replaced by surprised exclamations. No wonder — Yuei was officially considered the number one school among all educational institutions for future heroes. Its graduates were among the most popular and successful pro-heroes. For any teenager with ambitions, getting in was like becoming part of a legend. But the competition was fierce: thousands of applicants and only a handful of lucky ones who could pass the selection process. So the admiration and respectful whispers that ran through the classroom seemed quite natural.
Feeling the attention on him, Bakugo jumped onto his desk with a smug smile and, as if standing on stage, began to proclaim his superiority, saying that he was the only one in this backwater class worthy of the title of "Yuei" student, and that he would become the number one hero, surpassing even the Almighty. No one even thought of interrupting him — not because they agreed, but because they knew that arguing with Katsuki would be more trouble than it was worth.
"Oh yes," the same teacher suddenly said in an innocent tone, "I think Midoriya was also planning to apply to Yuei."
These words pierced the classroom like a thunderclap. Bakugo froze as if someone had pressed pause, and with him, everyone else fell silent, staring at him and Midoriya. The air in the room grew heavy, and the glances grew sharper.
"What, Midoriya? Are you serious?" a voice rang out.
"No way," said another.
"You can't get into the heroic course just by cramming!"
"That nutcase should have been kicked out of school a long time ago," someone muttered from the back row.
Midorija jumped up abruptly, trying to protest, but all he heard in response was a quiet hum of laughter and whispers that seemed to surround him. He could see that in their eyes, he was no longer just "unremarkable." He was the strange one, the one to stay away from so as not to run into... "inexplicable" consequences.
Bakugo approached decisively, his footsteps sounding like drumbeats. He placed his hand on Midoriya's desk and activated his quirk with a sharp movement. There was a flash, a smell of burning, and the desk exploded, throwing Izuku to the floor.
"Hey, Deku," Katsuki's voice was tinged with contempt and malice, "you're worse than trash. You don't even have a quirk, and you're a damn weirdo who came to school in your underwear. Tell me, what the hell makes you think you can compare yourself to me?"
"W-wait... That's not true... I..." Midoriya raised his hands, trying to calm him down, but at that moment he heard that same cold, oppressive whisper:
"Choose."
Two options flashed before his eyes again:
[1. Stand in an epic pose and say, "I challenge you."]
[2. Throw his underwear in his face.]
Not wanting to sink into shame completely, Izuku slowly got up. Fortunately, Katsuki wasn't in a hurry to hit him yet. He frantically scrolled through dozens of poses he had seen from heroes in his head, but in the end, he always returned to one image — the Almighty.
Taking a deep breath, he spread his legs slightly, straightened up, put his hands on his hips, and, looking straight into Bakugo's eyes, shouted:
"I CHALLENGE YOU!" Midoriya's voice sounded unexpectedly firm, and his stance — with his feet slightly wider than his shoulders and his hands at his sides — looked almost comical... if not for the strange chill that swept through the classroom. Yes, that was exactly how the Almighty stood on the posters, but now it looked different — defiant.
In an instant, the conversations died down. Even the teacher, who had been standing at the blackboard, quietly dropped behind his desk, as if looking for cover. A silence fell over the classroom, creating an oppressive atmosphere, as if time itself had stopped. It was that oppressive calm before the storm, when everyone is afraid to even move. No one knew how it would end, but everyone expected the worst.
Experience told them that if Midoriya and Bakugo even raised their voices at each other, the entire neighborhood within a kilometer radius would be considered a danger zone. It didn't matter that it was a school — there would be consequences either way.
Why was everyone so afraid of this? Because even separately, these two were walking disasters. Together... it was a catastrophe that no one wanted to see up close.
Each of them is a source of trouble on their own. Katsuki, because of his explosive temper, outbursts of rage, and willingness to use his destructive quirk at the slightest provocation. His friends knew that if he got angry, it was best to stay away.
Midorika, on the other hand, (due to the curse of choice), is a psychopath who seems to deliberately punish those who dare to offend him. Just remember how he once made three classmates throw up right in the middle of class. And then there were the sudden falls, bruises, and strange illnesses — all of which seemed to find their way to his offenders. Even when joking around with him, his classmates tried not to go too far — who knows what might happen.
But together they became like two elements, ready to collide in a deadly whirlwind. And now these two disasters were face to face. All that remained was to wait for a madman who would dare to intervene.
Bakugo opened his mouth, and at that moment, everyone was certain: the apocalypse was beginning.
"You think I'm joking?" he said slowly, almost hissing.
Midorija didn't back down and, looking straight into Katsuki's eyes, replied calmly:
"No, Kachan. I'm completely serious."