Haruto's mother had decided he needed "socialization."
This was how Haruto found himself at a community center playgroup with ten other toddlers, all of whom seemed to have endless energy and zero sense of personal space.
*This is hell,* Haruto thought, watching a kid named Takeshi eat a crayon. *Actual, literal hell.*
"Now children," the playgroup leader—a cheerful woman named Miss Yuki who had a quirk that made her hair change colors with her emotions—clapped her hands together. "Today we're going to play a game! Who wants to show us their quirk?"
Every hand shot up except Haruto's and one other kid who was currently trying to fit a square block through a circular hole with the determination of someone who'd never heard of shapes.
*Oh good,* Haruto thought. *Toddler show-and-tell. My favorite.*
"Wonderful! Let's start with... Kenji-kun!"
A boy with spiky black hair stood up proudly. "My quirk is super strength! Watch!"
He picked up a toy car with both hands, lifted it above his head, and promptly lost his balance, toppling backward.
Miss Yuki caught him before he could brain himself on the floor. "Very good! But let's keep our demonstrations a little safer, okay?"
*Very good? He almost gave himself a concussion. The bar is so low it's underground.*
"Who's next? How about... Mina-chan!"
A little girl with pink skin—*wait, pink skin, is that Mina Ashido?*—jumped up excitedly. "I can make acid! Look!"
She held out her palm, and a few drops of liquid pooled there, immediately burning a small hole in the floor mat.
"Ah! Mina-chan, we talked about this!" Miss Yuki's hair turned orange with alarm. "No acid indoors!"
"Sorry, Miss Yuki!"
*Is this safe?* Haruto wondered. *Is any of this safe? We're in a room full of toddlers with superpowers and minimal supervision. This is a lawsuit waiting to happen.*
Several more kids demonstrated their quirks. One could stick to walls but got stuck to the ceiling and had to be peeled off. Another could change the color of objects but accidentally turned Miss Yuki's hair permanently blue (her quirk was fighting it, creating a weird tie-dye effect).
One kid could make small explosions.
*Wait.*
Haruto looked closer. Blonde hair, red eyes, permanent scowl.
*Oh no.*
"Katsuki-kun!" Miss Yuki called, hair flickering between blue and anxious purple. "Would you like to show your quirk?"
"Obviously!" Bakugo strutted to the center of the circle. "Watch this!"
He held up his palms and set off a series of small explosions that were honestly impressive for a four-year-old.
They were also loud enough to make half the kids start crying.
"Very... very powerful, Katsuki-kun," Miss Yuki said weakly, hair now fully purple. "But maybe a little quieter next time?"
"That's how explosions work!" Bakugo protested. "They're loud!"
*Can't argue with that logic,* Haruto thought.
Bakugo's eyes swept the room and landed on Haruto. His scowl deepened. "What about him? What's his quirk?"
Every eye turned to Haruto.
*Thanks, Bakugo. Really appreciate being put on the spot.*
"Haruto-kun?" Miss Yuki prompted gently. "Would you like to show us?"
Not really, no. His quirk was still in the preview phase, unpredictable and limited. Plus, showing off felt like tempting fate.
But everyone was staring at him, and Haruto had learned that the fastest way through awkward situations was just to get them over with.
He stood up, walked over to the sad potted plant in the corner—some kind of fern that looked like it was contemplating suicide—and placed his hand on it.
*Grow,* he thought. *Just a little. Don't embarrass me.*
The fern responded immediately. New fronds unfurled. The color brightened from sickly yellow-green to vibrant emerald. In ten seconds, it went from "please water me" to "I'm thriving, thanks for asking."
The room went quiet.
"Whoa," someone whispered.
Miss Yuki's hair turned bright yellow with excitement. "Haruto-kun! That's wonderful! A plant quirk!"
"That's boring," Bakugo declared loudly. "Plants don't do anything cool."
*Plants can literally strangle you to death,* Haruto thought, *but sure, let's call them boring.*
"Plants are very useful, Katsuki-kun," Miss Yuki said firmly. "They provide oxygen, food, shelter—"
"Boring," Bakugo repeated.
Before Haruto could respond—or decide if responding was even worth it—Mina bounced over to the fern.
"It's so pretty now!" She reached out to touch it. "Can you make flowers?"
"Don't know," Haruto admitted. He'd only practiced on his sunflower so far. Other plants were hit or miss.
"Try! Try!" Several kids crowded around him now, curious.
*Great. An audience. Just what I wanted.*
Haruto looked at the fern. Flowers. Could he make it flower? He wasn't even sure ferns could flower. Weren't they spore-based or something?
*I should've paid more attention in biology class,* he thought, then: *Wait, do toddlers even take biology? Why do I know what spores are?*
He placed his hand on the fern again and thought: *Flower.*
Nothing happened.
*Okay, so I can't make plants do things they're biologically incapable of. Good to know.*
"Maybe later," he told the expectant crowd.
"Aw."
"Told you it was boring," Bakugo muttered.
*I'm adding you to my list,* Haruto thought darkly. *The list of people who need attitude adjustments.*
"Alright, children!" Miss Yuki clapped her hands, hair settling into a calm green. "That was wonderful! Everyone did such a good job! Now, let's do some crafts!"
The kids dispersed to the craft table, and Haruto thought he was safe.
He was wrong.
Bakugo cornered him by the crayons.
"Your quirk is weak," Bakugo announced, like this was a medical fact.
"Okay," Haruto said, because arguing with Bakugo was like arguing with a brick wall. A brick wall that could explode.
"My quirk is way better. Explosions are the best quirk."
"Cool."
"You're not even arguing!" Bakugo looked frustrated. "Why aren't you arguing?"
*Because I'm mentally twenty-five years old and I'm not getting into a pissing contest with a four-year-old about whose superpower is cooler.*
"Don't care," Haruto said instead.
"You should care! We're gonna be heroes! Heroes need strong quirks!"
"Plants are strong."
"Are not!"
"Are too."
"Are NOT!"
"Think what you want," Haruto shrugged, reaching for a green crayon.
Bakugo stared at him like Haruto had just spoken a foreign language. Apparently, indifference was not a response he encountered often.
"You're weird," Bakugo finally declared.
"Okay."
"Stop saying okay!"
"Okay."
"ARGH!" Bakugo stomped off to terrorize some other kid, and Haruto went back to his coloring in peace.
*That was exhausting,* he thought, carefully coloring inside the lines of a tree. *And I didn't even do anything.*
"Is Bakugo always like that?"
Haruto looked up to find Mina sitting next to him, her pink face scrunched in confusion.
"Yeah," Haruto confirmed.
"He's really loud."
"Yeah."
"And kinda mean."
"Yeah."
"But his explosions are cool," Mina admitted.
*Even at four, everyone's impressed by flashy destructive powers,* Haruto thought. *Tale as old as time.*
"Your quirk is cool too," Mina continued, picking up a pink crayon. "My mama says plant quirks are really rare! And useful!"
"Thanks."
"Can you really grow anything?"
"Don't know yet. Still learning."
"That's okay! My mama says quirks take practice!" Mina started drawing what might have been a cat or possibly a demon. Hard to tell. "I'm practicing not melting stuff. Last week I melted my bedframe."
*How do you accidentally melt a bedframe?*
"Accident?"
"I had a bad dream and my hands got sweaty and then there was acid everywhere and Mama was really mad but also worried and I had to sleep on the couch for three days until we got a new bed." She said this all in one breath. "But it's okay now! We got a metal bedframe! Acid-resistant!"
*The fact that 'acid-resistant bedframe' is a normal purchase in this world says a lot about quirk society.*
They colored in companionable silence for a while. Haruto's tree was coming along nicely. Mina's demon-cat was... abstract.
"You're a really good colorerer," Mina observed.
*Colorerer isn't a word,* Haruto thought, but said, "Thanks."
"Wanna be friends?"
Haruto paused mid-stroke. Friends. He already had Izuku, and that was complicated enough. Did he really need more friends?
But Mina was looking at him with big golden eyes, hopeful and genuine, and Haruto remembered: *She's going to be in Class 1-A. She's going to be one of the heroes fighting the League of Villains.*
Having a connection to her now could be useful later.
*I'm a terrible person,* Haruto thought, *making friends based on strategic value.*
"Okay," he said.
"Yay!" Mina bounced in her seat. "We're friends! You're my first friend with a plant quirk!"
*I'm probably your first friend with any plant-related anything,* Haruto thought, but he just nodded.
The rest of playgroup passed without incident. Well, without major incident. Takeshi ate another crayon. The kid who could stick to walls got stuck again. Bakugo set off more explosions and made more kids cry.
Normal toddler chaos.
When Haruto's mother came to pick him up, Miss Yuki pulled her aside.
"Haruto did wonderful today!" Her hair was a pleased yellow. "His quirk demonstration was very controlled. Much more controlled than most children his age."
*That's because I have an adult brain,* Haruto thought. *But you can't know that.*
"Though I will say," Miss Yuki continued, "he's very... reserved. He doesn't play much with the other children. Mostly observes."
*Because playing is exhausting when you're faking being a child.*
"He's always been quiet," his mother said, a hint of worry in her voice. "Is that bad?"
"Not bad! Just different. Some children are naturally more introverted. As long as he's happy, there's nothing to worry about."
*I'm not happy,* Haruto thought. *I'm stressed, guilty, and planning to fundamentally alter the course of this world's future. But sure, let's call it introverted.*
In the car on the way home, his mother kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror.
"Did you have fun, sweetie?"
*No.*
"Yes," Haruto lied.
"Make any friends?"
"Mina."
"That's wonderful! See? Playgroup is good for you!"
*Playgroup is torture designed to look educational,* Haruto thought, but he just nodded.
When they got home, his father was on the balcony, looking at the sunflower with an expression of deep concern.
"Yuki," he called. "Why is the sunflower three feet tall?"
"What?" His mother rushed out. "It was only a foot tall this morning!"
They both stared at the plant, which had indeed grown significantly. The pot was barely containing its roots anymore.
"Haru," his mother said slowly. "Did you... did you do this?"
Haruto looked at the sunflower. He'd touched it this morning before playgroup. Had thought *grow* at it, just as practice.
Apparently, he'd thought it too hard.
"Maybe," he admitted.
His father pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're going to need a bigger pot."
"We're going to need a bigger balcony," his mother corrected.
*Or,* Haruto thought, looking at his rapidly-growing sunflower with a mix of pride and concern, *I need to learn some control before I accidentally grow a forest in our living room.*
But the sunflower looked healthy and vibrant, reaching toward the sky like it had ambitions.
*I know how you feel,* Haruto thought at it. *Big dreams, small pot.*
The sunflower swayed in the breeze, and Haruto could swear it was agreeing with him.
*I'm going insane,* he thought. *I'm having philosophical conversations with a plant.*
*This is fine.*
*Everything is fine.*
The sunflower grew another inch.
*Everything is definitely not fine.*
---