Haruto was sitting in his high chair, waging war against a bowl of oatmeal, when his mother announced the news.
"We have a doctor's appointment today," she said cheerfully, wiping oatmeal off his eyebrow. How it got there, even Haruto wasn't sure. "Just a regular checkup. Nothing scary!"
*Nothing scary,* Haruto thought grimly, *except the part where they're going to confirm I'm either quirkless or have some weird mutation that'll make me a medical anomaly.*
The oatmeal chose that moment to slide off his spoon and land directly in his lap.
His mother sighed. "Let's get you cleaned up. Again."
---
The pediatrician's office was aggressively cheerful. Bright colors everywhere. Cartoon characters on the walls. A play area in the corner with toys that had definitely seen better days.
Haruto sat in his mother's lap, eyeing a poster of All Might giving a thumbs up with the caption "Plus Ultra Your Health!"
*Even here,* Haruto thought. *The man is inescapable. I bet there's All Might toilet paper. All Might brand vitamins. All Might hemorrhoid cream.*
"Haruto Senju?" A nurse called from the doorway.
His mother stood, hitching him up on her hip. "That's us!"
The examination room was smaller but no less aggressively cheerful. More All Might posters. Haruto was starting to think the Symbol of Peace had a very aggressive marketing team.
Dr. Yamada was a kind-looking woman with glasses and a quirk that made her eyes literally sparkle when she smiled. It was disconcerting.
"Hello, Haruto!" She smiled, and her eyes did the thing. "How are we feeling today?"
*Existentially troubled and mildly constipated,* Haruto thought, but he just stared at her blankly.
"He's been good," his mother answered. "Very healthy. Eating well, sleeping through the night most of the time."
"Excellent! Let's do some measurements, shall we?"
What followed was the standard barrage of medical prodding. Height, weight, temperature. Dr. Yamada checked his eyes, his ears, his reflexes. She made him stack blocks to test his motor skills, which Haruto did competently while internally screaming about the indignity of it all.
"He's developing wonderfully," Dr. Yamada declared, making notes on her tablet. "Very advanced for his age, actually. Good coordination, excellent focus."
*That's because I'm a twenty-four-year-old man in a toddler's body,* Haruto thought. *I should hope I can stack blocks better than an actual one-year-old.*
"Now," Dr. Yamada said, pulling out a device that looked vaguely sci-fi. "Let's do a quirk factor analysis. Just a quick scan, nothing invasive."
Haruto's attention sharpened. This was it. The moment of truth.
The device whirred to life, and Dr. Yamada passed it over Haruto's body. He watched her face carefully, looking for any reaction.
Her eyebrows rose slightly.
*Oh no.*
"Interesting," she murmured.
*'Interesting' is never good. 'Interesting' is doctor-speak for 'something weird is happening and I'm not sure what.'*
"What is it?" his mother asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong, exactly. Just... unusual." Dr. Yamada adjusted her glasses. "Haruto definitely has a quirk factor. Actually, it's quite strong. But it hasn't manifested yet."
"Is that normal?"
"It's not abnormal. Some children don't manifest until four or five years old, even with a strong quirk factor. The scan shows..." She tilted the device, frowning. "It's concentrated in his hands and feet, primarily. And there's unusual activity when he's near plant matter."
His mother blinked. "Plant matter?"
"Yes. See this reading?" Dr. Yamada showed her the screen, which meant nothing to Haruto from his vantage point. "His quirk factor spikes when he's in contact with or near plants. My preliminary assessment would be some sort of plant-based quirk. Possibly plant manipulation or growth acceleration."
*Bingo,* Haruto thought, trying not to look too smug. *Mokuton, here I come.*
"That's wonderful!" his mother clasped her hands together. "He's always loved plants. He has a little garden on our balcony!"
"That's perfect! Exposure to his quirk's focus area before manifestation can help with control later." Dr. Yamada smiled, eyes sparkling again. "I'd say expect manifestation within the next two to three years. Until then, just keep doing what you're doing."
Two to three YEARS?
Haruto stared at her in horror.
*Two to three years? I have to wait TWO TO THREE YEARS? I'm going to be four years old before I can do anything useful? FOUR?*
"Is that a long time?" his mother asked, noticing Haruto's expression and misinterpreting it entirely. "Is he upset?"
"Some children are eager for their quirks," Dr. Yamada said kindly. "But really, there's no rush. Early manifestation isn't always better. It gives you time to prepare!"
*Prepare for what? More oatmeal battles? More diaper incidents? More pretending to be amazed by stacking blocks?*
Haruto slumped in his mother's lap, thoroughly defeated.
"Aw, sweetie," his mother rubbed his back. "It's okay! Your quirk will come when it's ready! And we'll love you no matter what!"
*That's not the issue,* Haruto thought miserably. *The issue is that I have to spend THREE MORE YEARS being a useless toddler.*
The rest of the appointment passed in a blur. Dr. Yamada gave his mother some pamphlets about quirk development. Recommended some books. Suggested they keep a "quirk journal" to document any unusual occurrences.
Haruto tuned it all out, too busy mourning the loss of three years of his second life.
---
On the car ride home, his mother chatted happily about quirk possibilities.
"A plant quirk! Oh, that'll be so lovely, Haru! You could be a rescue hero! Or work in agriculture! Or—oh! You could help with reforestation efforts! There are so many options!"
*Or I could use it to trap villains in wooden prisons and eliminate them before they become problems,* Haruto thought, *but sure, reforestation sounds nice too.*
"We should tell the Midoriyas! Inko will be so excited!"
*Great. More excitement. Just what I need.*
When they got home, his mother immediately called Inko, who immediately came over with Izuku.
"A plant quirk!" Inko gushed. "Oh, that's wonderful! Izuku, did you hear? Haru-kun's going to have a plant quirk!"
Izuku, who'd been playing with his All Might figure, looked up with wide eyes. "Really? That's so cool! You can grow trees and flowers and—and—and you can make a forest! A whole forest!"
"Eventually," Haruto's mother laughed. "First, he has to manifest it! The doctor said two to three years."
Izuku's face fell. "That long?"
"That's normal, sweetie," Inko assured him. "Some quirks take time."
"But I want Haru-kun to have his quirk now!" Izuku protested. "Then we can play heroes for real!"
*You and me both, kid,* Haruto thought.
"My appointment is next week," Izuku continued, brightening. "The doctor's gonna tell me about my quirk too! Maybe we'll both have to wait!"
Haruto felt his stomach drop.
Right. Izuku's appointment. The one where he'd learn he was quirkless. The one that would devastate him and set the stage for years of bullying and self-doubt.
"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful quirk," Inko said softly, running her fingers through Izuku's hair. "Whatever it is."
The hope in her voice was painful to hear.
*She knows,* Haruto realized. *Or at least suspects. She's been preparing for this.*
Izuku, oblivious to his mother's worry, launched into speculation about what his quirk might be. "Maybe I'll have a strength quirk like All Might! Or a fire quirk like Endeavor! Or—or—or maybe something totally new that nobody's ever seen before!"
"Maybe," Haruto said quietly.
"We could be a team!" Izuku grabbed Haruto's hands, squeezing tight. "You with your plants and me with whatever I get! We'll be the best hero duo ever!"
*Oh, Izuku.*
Haruto squeezed back, wishing he could warn him. Wishing he could prepare him for the disappointment coming.
But he couldn't. The timeline had to progress. Izuku needed to be quirkless to eventually receive One For All. Changing that would change everything.
So Haruto just nodded and let Izuku talk about their future hero careers while their mothers cooed over how cute they were together.
---
That night, Haruto lay in his crib, staring at the ceiling.
Two to three years until his quirk manifested.
Two to three years of being essentially powerless.
Two to three years of watching events unfold that he knew were coming but couldn't stop.
*This is fine,* he told himself. *This is fine. I knew there'd be a waiting period. I can use this time to prepare. To plan. To—*
His stomach growled.
*To be hungry, apparently.*
He called out for his mother, who came in immediately.
"What's wrong, sweetie? Hungry? You just ate!"
*This body has no concept of meal scheduling,* Haruto thought irritably. *It just demands food at random intervals like some kind of tiny dictator.*
She picked him up, and Haruto buried his face in her shoulder, suddenly exhausted by everything.
"It's okay," she murmured, rocking him gently. "I know you're disappointed about having to wait for your quirk. But good things take time, Haru. The best things take time."
*Does eliminating All For One before he can groom Shigaraki count as a good thing?* Haruto wondered. *Because that's definitely going to take time.*
His mother carried him to the kitchen and got him a bottle—yes, he was still on bottles occasionally, another indignity of toddlerhood—and he drank it while she hummed softly.
"You're going to be amazing," she said. "Whatever your quirk turns out to be, however long it takes, you're going to be amazing. Because you're kind and smart and you care about people. That's what matters."
*I'm really not that kind,* Haruto thought. *I'm just good at pretending.*
But he leaned into her warmth anyway, letting himself have this moment of comfort before he went back to planning and scheming and carrying the weight of knowledge he shouldn't have.
"Love you, baby," she whispered.
And despite everything—despite his plans, his secrets, his duplicity—Haruto found himself thinking, *I love you too.*
Even if he couldn't say it.
Even if she'd probably stop loving him if she knew the truth.
The bottle finished, his mother put him back to bed. The fake stars spun overhead, and Haruto closed his eyes.
Two to three years.
He could do this.
He'd already survived being born, learning to walk, and the Sweet Potato Incident of last month.
He could survive waiting for his quirk.
Probably.
Maybe.
*This is going to be a very long three years,* Haruto thought, and drifted off to sleep.
---