A deafening blast tore through the sky as a massive factory erupted in flames. From the churning smoke and falling debris stumbled a boy, blood seeping through tattered clothes. He moved as if in a trance, his steps heavy and unsteady, until he stepped onto the road. A truck rounded the bend too fast – and struck him hard.
Hours later, he jolted awake, gasping. "Ahh… what's happening? Who are you? Where am I?"
A woman with sharp eyes and a calm voice leaned over his bed. "You're Midoriya. I'm your mother, Haumea." She nodded toward a man standing by the window – broad-shouldered, his jaw tight with worry. "That's your father, Jiren."
"Am… am I really your son?" Midoriya whispered.
Just then, a doctor entered the room, clipboard in hand. "He's stable now. You can take him home, but let him rest. Don't push him to remember anything – we'll start the medication soon."
"Thank you, doctor," Haumea said, his voice rough.
The doctor left, and Jiren stood up. "Let's go home."
The house they brought him to sent a shiver down Midoriya's spine. It looked nothing like a home – sharp metal walls, dim lighting, and doors that hissed when they opened. "Is this… where we live?"
"Is that not what you expected?" Jiren asked, leading him down a cold hallway to a room that gleamed with metallic surfaces. "Rest here."
They left him alone. As Midoriya ran his fingers over the smooth walls, he wondered why everything felt so wrong. Down the hall, Jiren and Haumea stepped into a hidden lab. "He seems different from the others," Haumea said, his eyes fixed on a screen showing Midoriya's vitals.
Days blurred into weeks. Scientists monitored Midoriya constantly, their eyes tracking his every move. He hated being cooped up – all he wanted was to go outside, to see the world beyond these walls, to learn what lay around him. He tried talking to Jiren, but she'd always brush him off. Haumea was the only one who'd listen.
One day, Midoriya worked up the courage to speak his mind. "I want to go to high school. I need to see people, make friends – not just be stuck here."
Haumea's face softened. "I know. I'll talk to your father ."
Later that afternoon, Haumea found Jiren in the lab. "He's been alone his whole life. He needs to interact with others – let him go to high school. He deserves a normal childhood."
Jiren spun around, his voice sharp with anger. "Don't be foolish! He's not going anywhere!" She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Jiren stood still, replaying her words. Maybe she's right to be careful, he thought. But he needs to know the world around him. Perhaps it'll even help us learn more about him.
When Midoriya saw Haumea return, he jumped up. "Did you talk to her? What did he say?"
Haumea paused, then smiled gently. "Your father … she says you'll go to school. But you have to be prepared – it won't be easy."
Midoriya's face lit up. He'd dreamed of this moment – of leaving the cold walls behind, of meeting new people. "Thank you," he breathed.
Haumea clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'll make sure he follows through."
Meanwhile, Jiren met with Levious, the head scientist of the lab. "There's something about him that sets him apart," she said. "But I can't put my finger on it."
"Let's get to the point," Levious said, leading her to a monitor. "Check his latest stats."
Jiren's eyes widened. "This is outrageous! How can he have such high power levels? We didn't even know this was possible."
Levious shook his head. "We have no answers yet. Just… be careful with him."
They hurried back to Midoriya's room. The door swung open, and Midoriya looked up, hopeful. "Mom? Dad?"
"Hey, kid," Haumea said warmly. "Jiren wants me to get you some food – I'll be right back."
As Haumea left, Jiren sat beside Midoriya's bed. "So… how have you been? Do you feel… unusual? Like you could do something no one else can?"
Midoriya stared at him, confused. "No. I feel normal. Why would you ask that?"
Jiren said nothing, but when Haumea returned with a tray of food, she pulled him aside. "Do you think his power could have been miscalculated? Or… is it related to the accident?"
"Maybe it's better this way," Haumea murmured. "It makes our work easier." She paused, then added, "I'm going to bring him more food. He seems to have a good appetite now."
After dinner, Midoriya and Haumea sat together, talking for what felt like hours. For the first time, Midoriya felt truly seen. And as the days passed, he grew to trust Haumea more than anyone else in the world.