Chapter 1 – The Boy with a Monstrous Face
The skies above Musutafu were as clear as they ever were, birds soaring past tall buildings where massive digital screens blared updates about the latest hero activity. A highlight reel played in the background, showing pro-heroes blasting through villains, cheering crowds, and of course, the golden girl of the hour—
"Mirko — the Rabbit Hero — strikes again!"
"Still in her second year, yet outperforming even some top ten heroes."
"Absolute power, unmatched speed, and a fearless heart."
Applause rang across the street. People stopped walking just to watch the screen, faces lit up in admiration. Down the same street, almost blending into the shadows, a boy shuffled past the crowd — thick black hoodie pulled up over his head, a surgical mask hiding most of his face.
He didn't stop to watch. He never did.
---
Inside U.A. High, Class 2-C wasn't exactly known for fame. It was where the less flashy quirks went — where the school sent students who had potential, but not "marketable appeal."
Kaito Moriyama sat in the back corner, second row from the window. Always the same seat. Always alone.
Thick glasses sat on the bridge of his wide, flattened nose. His cheeks sagged slightly, jaw thick and misshapen, the skin beneath his eyes dark with shadow. He had the look of someone exhausted by life before even beginning it. His body was broad, heavy-set — not muscular, just big. He wore his weight like armor, and people stayed away from him for it.
But it wasn't the body that unsettled people.
It was the face.
Even covered partially, there was something unnatural. Twisted. Too symmetrical in some parts, painfully lopsided in others. As if his face had been molded by hands that didn't understand human expression. Some days it worsened. Some days it throbbed and shifted after quirk training.
That was the cost.
Quirk: Hollow Surge.
Strength. Speed. Energy output beyond normal limits. A quirk made for heroes.
But the more power he used, the more his face distorted.
A curse wrapped in a gift.
---
Kaito kept to himself. He took notes in silence. He trained longer than others after hours when the gym was empty. He read every hero report, every rescue manual. He had perfect records in his rescue classes — zero civilian injuries, zero property damage.
But no one ever thanked him.
He once offered a classmate a bento lunch when hers fell. She took one look at his face and said she wasn't hungry. He just smiled. Quietly folded it back and ate alone.
---
Flashback: Four Years Ago
A burning building. Civilians trapped inside. Pro heroes nowhere nearby.
Young Kaito, barely thirteen, rushed in without thinking.
He pulled out a woman and her daughter, coughing through the smoke, limbs burned and shaking.
She looked at him, tears in her eyes.
Then her expression froze.
She grabbed her daughter, screamed, "STAY AWAY!"
The girl began crying again — not from fear of the fire — but from him.
Firefighters arrived moments later. They saw Kaito walking away through the smoke.
One of them asked, "Was that a villain?"
Kaito didn't correct them.
---
Back to Present:
The teacher droned on about hero ethics, but Kaito wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed out the window.
In the courtyard below, Rumi Usagiyama was stretching after training — muscles taut, ears twitching, grinning like she had the whole world under her foot.
Kaito didn't stare because of attraction.
He stared because… she never flinched.
Not even when she looked directly at him once.
She didn't say anything either. But she didn't look away.
That alone made her unforgettable.
---
Later That Day – Villain Incident Downtown
A villain rampaged through a shopping center. Civilians screamed, heroes delayed by traffic and media presence. The area was collapsing.
Then — a figure burst through the smoke.
Not flashy. No hero costume.
Just a big, heavy-set boy with a hoodie and a monstrous face.
Kaito didn't shout or pose.
He just moved.
Fast. Efficient. Calm.
He pulled trapped civilians to safety, lifted debris no one else could, rerouted a gas leak, and took a blow for a crying kid without flinching. His hands bled. His face began… shifting.
Worse.
More twisted. More unnatural.
But the people were alive.
He stood at the edge of the street once it was done. Breathing hard. Looking at the people he saved.
They looked back…
…and backed away.
One mother snatched up her son. "Don't go near him."
A few heroes arrived, late, surveying the scene.
"Who the hell did all this?" one asked.
"Some villain freak…" someone muttered.
Kaito didn't argue. He walked away again.
---
Final Scene:
Back in his small apartment, Kaito peeled off his hoodie. His reflection stared back — horrifying, grotesque, alien.
He sat down, notebook in hand, writing notes on how to improve his rescue methods. Notes no one would read.
He paused.
Then quietly whispered,
"…I'm not here for applause. I'm here… so no one else has to cry like I did."