Three weeks into quirk control classes, and Haruto had learned two important things:
One: Resisting your quirk constantly was like trying not to scratch an itch. Technically possible, but psychologically torturous.
Two: Plants were gossipy little bastards.
I mean it, Haruto thought, sitting on a park bench while his mother chatted with Inko nearby. They don't shut up.
The park was full of plants—grass, trees, flowers, bushes—and every single one of them had opinions.
The oak tree near the playground was complaining about children carving hearts into its bark. The roses by the fountain were arguing about who got more sunlight. The grass was collectively irritated about being walked on.
It's GRASS, Haruto thought at them. That's literally your job. To be walked on.
The grass did not appreciate this observation.
"Haru-kun!" Izuku ran over, slightly muddy and entirely enthusiastic. "Come play! We're being heroes!"
We're two and three years old respectively, Haruto thought. We're not being heroes. We're being tiny humans who lack impulse control.
But Izuku looked so excited that Haruto slid off the bench and followed him to where Bakugo was standing on top of the slide, arms crossed like a tiny dictator.
"About time, Haru!" Bakugo shouted down. "We need someone to be the civilian!"
Of course. I'm always the civilian.
"Why am I the civilian?" Haruto asked.
"Because Deku's the sidekick and I'm the hero!" Bakugo declared. "You get to be rescued!"
"I don't want to be rescued."
"Too bad! It's already decided!"
Democracy is dead, Haruto thought.
"What if I want to be the villain?" Haruto suggested, mostly to be contrary.
Bakugo's eyes lit up. "YEAH! Haru can be the villain! And then I defeat him with EXPLOSIONS!"
I've made a terrible mistake.
"Wait," Izuku said, looking between them with concern. "But Haru-kun isn't a villain. He's nice."
"It's pretend, Deku!" Bakugo rolled his eyes. "He's pretending to be a villain!"
"Oh." Izuku thought about this. "Okay! But we have to be careful not to actually hurt each other!"
The fact that this needs to be said is concerning, Haruto thought.
They spent the next twenty minutes playing the worst game of heroes and villains in recorded history. Bakugo kept trying to use his quirk, which resulted in Miss Yamada's voice echoing in Haruto's head: "Recognize your signals! Control your impulses!"
Haruto, as the "villain," mostly just stood there while Bakugo ran circles around him making explosion noises. Izuku provided commentary like a sports announcer.
"And the villain—uh, what's your villain name, Haru-kun?"
Haruto hadn't thought about a villain name. He'd been too busy being annoyed at being voluntold for this role.
"Tree Man," he said, because his brain was tired and had given up.
"TREE MAN?!" Bakugo stopped running. "That's the WORST villain name EVER!"
I know. That's why I said it.
"And the villain Tree Man is—is—" Izuku struggled to make Tree Man sound threatening. "He's really tall! Like a tree!"
"I'm not tall," Haruto pointed out. "I'm two."
"Pretend tall!" Izuku insisted.
This is my life now. Pretending to be a tall tree villain while a four-year-old with anger management issues pretends to blow me up.
Bakugo "defeated" Tree Man with a dramatic finishing move that mostly involved him jumping off a low wall and nearly twisting his ankle. His mother, who'd been watching from a nearby bench, called him over for a stern talking-to about "using quirks safely."
While Bakugo was getting lectured, Izuku sat down next to Haruto in the grass.
"You'd make a good hero," Izuku said seriously. "Not a villain."
"Thanks," Haruto said, because what else could he say? Actually, I'm planning to eliminate villains permanently, which most people would consider morally questionable at best?
"Your quirk is really cool," Izuku continued. "You could save lots of people with plants. Make shelters, grow food, stop floods..."
Or trap villains in wooden prisons they can't escape from, Haruto thought. But sure, let's focus on the flood prevention.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Izuku asked suddenly.
A morally grey vigilante who operates outside the law, Haruto thought.
"Hero," he said out loud, because that was the expected answer.
"Me too!" Izuku's face fell slightly. "Well... if I can. Without a quirk."
Oh, Izuku.
The quirkless diagnosis was still fresh, only a few months old. Izuku tried to be positive about it, but Haruto could see the hurt underneath.
"You'll be a hero," Haruto said firmly. "Quirk or no quirk."
"You really think so?"
I know so. Because you're going to inherit One For All from All Might and become the number one hero. But I can't tell you that.
"Yeah," Haruto said. "You're... stubborn. And smart. You'll find a way."
Izuku smiled—that bright, impossible-to-fake smile. "Thanks, Haru-kun. You're a really good friend."
I'm really not, Haruto thought. I'm using our friendship as a way to stay close to the protagonist and monitor events. That's not what good friends do.
But he smiled back anyway, because that's what you did when you were maintaining a cover.
A strong gust of wind blew through the park, and Haruto suddenly felt every plant around them shudder.
Something's wrong.
The feeling came from the old cherry tree near the pond. Not pain, exactly, but... distress? A warning?
Haruto stood up, frowning.
"What's wrong?" Izuku asked, immediately noticing the change in Haruto's expression.
"Tree," Haruto said, walking toward the cherry tree. "Something's wrong with the tree."
"How do you know?"
Because it's screaming at me in plant language, Haruto thought. But that sounds insane.
"Just know," he said instead.
He approached the tree, placing his hand on its bark. The sensation was overwhelming—decay, disease, something eating away at the tree's core.
Oh no.
"What is it?" Izuku had followed him, concern written all over his face.
"Sick," Haruto said. "The tree's sick."
"How can you tell?"
Because it's telling me. In great detail. With feelings.
"Just can."
He closed his eyes and focused on the connection. The tree was old—really old. And something was wrong inside it, spreading through its trunk. Some kind of rot or disease.
Can I fix this? Haruto wondered. Can I use my quirk to help?
He'd never tried healing a plant before. Only growing them.
But growth is life, he reasoned. And life fights disease. Maybe...
He pushed energy into the tree, focusing on the healthy parts, encouraging them to grow stronger, to fight back against whatever was making the tree sick.
The tree responded immediately. Haruto felt it drawing on his energy, using it to bolster its immune system, to seal off the diseased sections.
It was working.
It was also exhausting.
"Haru-kun?" Izuku's voice sounded distant. "Are you okay? You look weird."
I'm having a magical healing moment with a tree, Haruto thought distantly. This is fine.
He pushed more energy into the tree, and—
Someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away.
"Haruto!" His mother's voice was sharp with concern. "What are you doing?"
Haruto blinked, the connection breaking. He felt dizzy, like he'd just run a marathon.
"Tree was sick," he mumbled. "Fixed it."
"Fixed it?" His mother looked at the tree, then back at him. "Sweetie, you can't just—you look pale. Are you feeling okay?"
Tired, Haruto realized. Really, really tired.
"Sleepy," he said.
Inko rushed over. "Is he alright?"
"I think he overused his quirk," his mother said, picking Haruto up. He didn't protest. "We should go home."
"The tree!" Izuku pointed. "Look at the tree!"
Everyone turned.
The cherry tree, which had looked old and slightly droopy before, now stood straighter. Its bark looked healthier. New buds were forming on branches that had been bare.
"Did Haruto do that?" someone asked.
"That's incredible," another voice said.
Oh no, Haruto thought through his exhaustion. I made a scene. I wasn't supposed to make a scene.
His mother was already hurrying toward the parking lot, Haruto in her arms. Inko and Izuku followed.
"What happened?" Inko asked, worried. "Did he hurt himself?"
"I don't know," his mother said. "He just touched the tree and then—I don't know."
In the car, Haruto leaned against the window, fighting to keep his eyes open. He could still feel the cherry tree in his mind, stronger now, healthier.
I did that, he thought with a mix of pride and concern. I healed it.
I didn't know I could do that.
When they got home, his father took one look at Haruto and immediately got concerned.
"What happened?"
"I think he overused his quirk," his mother said, setting Haruto on the couch. "He was doing something to a tree at the park and now he's exhausted."
His father knelt down. "Haru, can you tell us what you were doing?"
"Tree was sick," Haruto said. His tongue felt thick. "Fixed it."
"Fixed it how?"
"Pushed... energy. Life. Made it healthy."
His parents exchanged another one of those looks.
"I'm calling Dr. Yamada," his mother said, pulling out her phone.
Great, Haruto thought. More doctors.
While his mother talked to the doctor, his father sat next to Haruto on the couch.
"That was a very kind thing you did," he said quietly. "Helping the tree. But you need to be more careful. Using too much of your quirk can hurt you."
I know, Haruto thought. Miss Yamada covered this in week two. 'Know your limits' and all that.
"I'm okay," he said out loud. "Just tired."
"The doctor wants us to bring you in tomorrow," his mother said, hanging up. "Just to make sure everything's okay."
More tests. More poking. More people trying to figure out why I'm weird.
Haruto must have dozed off on the couch because the next thing he knew, it was evening and he was in his crib. Someone—probably his father—had changed him into pajamas.
He lay there, feeling the plants throughout the apartment. They were quiet now, peaceful. Even Gerald was just... existing, content.
I healed a tree today, Haruto thought. I didn't know I could do that.
What else can I do?
The possibilities were exciting and terrifying in equal measure.
If I can heal plants... can I control them? Make them move? Use them as weapons?
That's what Hashirama could do. Mokuton wasn't just growing plants. It was controlling them. Creating living weapons. Entire forests that could fight.
Is that what my quirk can become?
The thought was intoxicating.
And dangerous.
Miss Yamada would have a heart attack, Haruto thought. She's trying to teach me not to use my quirk. And I'm over here planning botanical warfare.
From the balcony, Gerald rustled.
You did good today, the fern seemed to say. The big tree thanks you.
The big tree can talk to you? Haruto thought, surprised.
All plants talk, Gerald responded. You just learned to listen.
Great. So it's not just the plants near me. It's all plants. Everywhere.
That's... that's a lot of voices.
You'll get used to it, Gerald assured him. We're very good company.
You're literally a fern.
And you're literally a small human. We all have our limitations.
Did Gerald just sass me? Haruto wondered. Is my fern developing an attitude?
He was too tired to unpack that, so he just closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
Tomorrow would bring doctors and questions and probably more concerned looks from his parents.
But tonight, he could rest, knowing that he'd helped something. That his quirk could heal as well as grow.
That's good, he thought as sleep pulled him under. That's useful.
If I can heal plants, maybe I can protect people too.
Maybe I can actually be the hero everyone thinks I'll be.
Or at least... something close to it.
The fake stars spun overhead, and the plants hummed their quiet songs, and Haruto drifted into dreams of forests and power and possibilities he was only beginning to understand.