**Age 7**
The Gotham Public Library's West Narrows End branch was falling apart like everything else in the neighborhood, but it still had books, and books had become Suguro's escape from the apartment that served as his prison.
He'd discovered the library by accident during one of the rare occasions his grandmother had told him to "get out and stop ruining her day." She'd been drunk again, she was drunk most days now, and had shoved him out the apartment door with instructions not to come back until dark. Suguro, seven years old, alone in Gotham's heavy rainfall soaking wet, had wandered the dangerous streets until he'd found the library's crumbling facade.
Inside, it was quieter than anywhere he'd ever been. The librarian, an elderly woman named Mrs. Chen, who seemed to be one of only staff members choosing to keep the place running. had looked at him with the kind of pity he'd learned to recognize and hate, but she'd let him stay. She'd even pointed him toward the children's section, though Suguro had quickly gravitated toward the adult non-fiction shelves instead.
That had been six months ago. Now, he came any day that he could to escape that apartment, and Mrs. Chen had stopped trying to redirect him to age-appropriate material. She'd noticed that the thin, quiet boy with the too-old eyes was actually reading the complex texts he pulled down, and was actually understanding them.
Today, Suguro sat cross-legged on the floor of the science section, surrounded by books about chemistry, and the psychology of fear. He'd taught himself to read at an advanced level out of pure necessity but books were his only teachers, his only window into knowledge that might help him understand his Quirk and, more importantly, help him survive.
He was deep into a book on how fear can change behaviour when a shadow fell across his page.
"That's pretty advanced reading for someone your age."
Suguro looked up to find a woman in his thirties standing over him, wearing clothes that marked him as not from this neighborhood, too clean, too new and expensive. The woman had a kind face and standing next to her was what he assumed was her daughter a girl around his age
"I can understand it if that's what you are wondering," Suguro said quietly, his voice flat and emotionless.
"I'm sure you can." The lady crouched down to Suguro's level. "My name is Dr. Alcia Webb. I'm a professor at Gotham University. Mrs. Chen told me about you, said there's a young boy who comes in here reading college textbooks. I had to see for myself."
Suguro said nothing, waiting. Adults who showed interest in him usually wanted something, and it was rarely good.
"What's your name?"
"Suguro."
"Well, Suguro, it is nice to meet you and this is my daughter Charlotte?"
She motioned to the girl standing slightly behind her mom peaking out at the boy
"Hi"
"Now" she began "what would a boy from the narrows want to learn from a book so advanced?"
Suguro considered lying but decided the truth was safer, "I want to understand how my quirk works. How it can affect thinking and behavior."
"That's a sophisticated interest for a seven year old." Dr. Webb settled more comfortably at the table, seeming genuinely curious rather than condescending.
"I study Quirk biology at the university. The intersection of Quirk factors and human biochemistry. It's fascinating work." Dr. Webb paused, studying Suguro carefully. "If you dont mind me asking what your Quirk is, Suguro?"
"Yes."
"Would you be willing to tell me about it?"
Suguro hesitated, then made a decision. "I produce a gas. From my skin. It makes people hallucinate. They see their fears."
Dr. Webb's eyes widened slightly. "That's... that's an incredibly powerful Quirk. And complex. A psychoactive compound produced biologically—that's rare. How long have you had it?"
"Since I was four."
"And you've been researching to understand it." Dr. Webb's expression shifted to something that looked like respect. "That's brilliant, Suguro. Really brilliant. Self-directed research at your age I've never seen anything like it."
Charlotte smiled and moved closer now interested as well
Something warm and unfamiliar stirred in Suguro's chest, but he began trying to ruthlessly suppress it. Attention was dangerous. He'd learned this.
"I need to understand it," Suguro said simply. "To control it."
"Of course. That's very responsible." Dr. Webb glanced at the books surrounding Suguro. "These are good resources, but they're not written for someone learning the fundamentals. Would you like some help? I could recommend books that would build your knowledge more systematically, maybe even bring some of my own materials for you to study."
"Why?" The question came out blunt, suspicious as no one in his part of Gotham would ever do something for anyone just out of kindness.
Dr. Webb smiled sadly. "Because I was a kid like you once, trying to understand my Quirk, feeling like I didn't fit anywhere. Someone helped me then. I'd like to pay that forward."
Suguro studied the man's face, looking for deception, for the hidden agenda. But all he saw was what appeared to be genuine kindness, genuine interest in helping.
"Okay," Suguro said finally.
For the next eight months, Dr. Webb became Suguro's unofficial tutor. She and her daughter would spend hours at the library with Suguro, explaining complex concepts to him and Charlotte in ways that an eight-year-old mind could grasp, answering questions without condescension, treating them like students rather than children.
Suguro absorbed everything with desperate intensity. He learned about molecular structures and chemical reactions. He explored the emerging field of Quirk biology, understanding how the Quirk factor integrated with human genetics to produce superhuman abilities.
And he began to understand his own power.
He even began to have a friend in Charlotte
His Quirk, Dr. Webb explained, was producing some kind of psychoactive compound, probably something similar to hallucinogenic drugs, but specifically targeting the fear-processing centers of the brain. The fact that he could produce it through his skin suggested his body had adapted at a cellular level, treating the compound like sweat or other secretions.
"It's elegant, really," Dr. Webb had said during one of their sessions. "Your Quirk essentially weaponizes the brain's own fear responses. You're not creating the fears, they already exist in your target's subconscious but you are the one bringing them to the surface and making them feel real."
Suguro had written all of this down in his notebooks, he had several now, hidden in the wall of his room where his grandmother wouldn't find them. He documented everything: the science behind his Quirk, experiments he conducted (always on animals, never revealing to Dr. Webb the full extent of his testing), observations about dosage and effects.
For the first time in his life, Suguro felt something like hope. Maybe happiness, or perhaps he was still too damaged for that, still enduring nightly abuse from his grandmother, still living in poverty and isolation. But hope that his quirk and knowledge could be his escape, that understanding the world might give him power over it.
Then, one Tuesday afternoon, Dr. Webb and Charlotte didn't come to the library.
He walked outside and saw their car down the street and Dr Webb unconscious next to and quickly ran over to her and began trying to wake her up and she did but frantically looked around asking where Charlotte was, Suguro didnt know and the two began looking through the streets and alleys until...
The say a trash can with blood dripping over the sides and when Webb went to looked she screamed and threw up and stumbled back knocking over the can and Suguro saw his friend... the only thing close to a friend he had ever had...
Cut up into pieces spilling out onto the wet alley pavement...
He froze at the scene staring at it and the constant noise of Gotham's streets, trains, distant gunfire, everything even Webb's crying and screams began to tune out a for the first time in years a tear began to fall down his cheek...
Webb called the police but the police only agreed to come once she told them who she was and the police begrudgingly sent an ambulance and crime team to the scene. But for Crane the next hours were like a blur as he sat at a nearby bench staring off into Gotham's busy streets with passers by not stopping to care about another crime scene and Webb saying goodbye to him as she went to the police station.
Days passed then weeks and each day Suguro would go to the Library hoping to see Webb again and learn about what happend
Then almost a month later he was sitting in the library
Suguro waited, reading his current textbook, glancing at the entrance every time the door opened. But Dr. Webb never appeared.
Finally, tired of waiting, Suguro worked up the courage to ask Mrs. Chen if she'd heard from her.
The librarian's face fell. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. Dr Webb... She was in an accident. A car crash and didn't make it."
The words didn't process at first. Suguro just stared at her, his mind refusing to accept the information.
"She spoke very highly of you," Mrs. Chen continued gently. "She said you were the brightest student she had ever taught and were the closest friend little Charlotte had. She left some things for you, books, notebooks, and a letter she wanted you to have."
She led Suguro to her desk and pulled out a box. Inside were advanced textbooks, laboratory equipment, and a letter with Suguro's name on it.
Suguro took the box with numb hands and carried it to his usual spot. He opened the letter with trembling fingers—the first time in months he'd felt anything strongly enough to show physical symptoms.
*Dear Suguro,*
*If you're reading this, it means something has happened to me. I've been in poor health lately after... Charlotte's passing... and I wanted to make sure you had what you needed to continue your studies.*
*You have an extraordinary mind, Suguro. In another world, with different circumstances, you could have been anything, a researcher, a doctor, a professor. I don't know what circumstances you're living under, but I've seen enough to guess they're not good. I've seen the bruises you try to hide, the way you flinch at sudden movements, the hunger in your eyes that isn't just for knowledge.*
*I wish I could do more for you. I wish I could give you the childhood you deserve, the education you should have, the safety every child needs. But all I can offer is this: knowledge is power, and you have the capacity to acquire more knowledge than most people dream of. Use it. Survive. And someday, perhaps, thrive.*
*Whatever you become, Suguro, I hope you remember that someone saw your potential and believed in you.*
*With hope for your future,*
*Dr. Alicia Webb*
Suguro read the letter three times, his face expressionless, his eyes dry. Then he carefully folded it, placed it in the bottom of the box, and began examining the books and materials Dr. Webb had left him.
Something inside him, something that might have grown into warmth, into trust, into human connection, curled up and died in that moment. The Webbs had been the only ones in his life who'd ever shown him kindness without wanting something in return, and now they were gone.
The universe had taught Suguro another lesson: caring about people was a vulnerability, and vulnerability was death.
And that you need to be the one who hurts other so that you cant ever be scared or hurt in the hell on earth that Gotham was
That night, in his locked room, Suguro opened his notebooks and began designing experiments that Dr. Webb would have been horrified by. If knowledge was power, then Suguro would pursue knowledge without moral limits, without ethical constraints, without the weakness of compassion.
He would become the perfect student, cold, brilliant, and absolutely ruthless.