---
“We have some concerns, Ma’am,” the kindergarten teacher sighed, glancing at the small woman before her. The little girl sitting cross-legged on the floor beyond the office door had the same hair color as her. A mischievous sparkle danced in those eyes.
“We know that raising a child with a quirk without a quirked parent around can be… more challenging,” the teacher continued, carefully. The woman’s head dipped, a familiar shame washing over her. She’d known this day would come, but two months after Y/N’s quirk manifested? It felt too soon.
“I’m very sorry. I’ll pay for whatever damage she’s caused,” she offered, bowing deeply.
They waved it off. “That’s not the problem. She hasn’t broken anything.” As soon as the woman’s brow furrowed in confusion, the teacher pressed on. “She’s using her quirk to make her classmates do things they shouldn’t. We just want her to understand she can’t keep doing that or she’ll lose all her friends.” A small sigh escaped the h/c haired woman as she peered through the glass of the door. She could see the sparkle in her eyes as she messed around with her toys, the strings that attached them to the tips of her fingers moved around almost unnoticeably, they were so thin, yet so strong.
“I’ll talk to her. Maybe get some help too,” she offered. The teachers seemed satisfied.
Once more, the mortified woman bowed. As she turned the knob, she spoke softly. “Thank you for your time. I hope Y/N won’t cause any more trouble in the future.” She walked past the door, her h/c hair swaying gently as she knelt down to meet her daughter’s eye level.
“Come on, you little spider monkey, let’s go home.” And with that, they left.
The next few months were… challenging, to say the least.
Y/N ran around the house, strings snapping out to grab anything and everything. She’d giggle, swinging toys and furniture, the thrill of it all sending her into fits of laughter.
“Y/N, please stop!” her mother gasped, watching her five-year-old climb onto the dining table, plates dangling from her strings as she spun in dizzying circles.
“Mama, I’m a merry-go-round!” she chirped, spinning faster. Her mother stared, frozen in terror.
She took a step forward, trying to calculate the best moment to intervene with minimal damage.
She’s going to get herself killed, her mother thought, and lunged forward, grabbing Y/N and pulling her close. She let out a shaky breath and turned to face her toddler, worry etched on her face.
“Please, baby, let go of the plates,” she said, holding her daughter tightly.
Y/N smiled and nodded, retracting her strings instantly. The plates crashed onto the floor, shattering near her mother’s feet.
“That’s… good girl,” M/N sighed, a small smile appearing on her lips.
She stepped carefully over the broken ceramic, her slippers cracking under the weight of the shards.
“Mama,” Y/N whispered, staring up at her parent.
“What is it, spider monkey?” she asked, picking up the broom leaning against the wall.
“Why am I not in school today?” Y/N asked, her mouth forming a small pout.
M/N didn’t turn around, her gaze fixed on the broom as she swayed gently, sweeping up the mess. The past few months had been exhausting. Y/N kept using her powers at school, scaring and endangering her classmates. Her mother had talked to her, tried to explain when and how to use her quirk, but being quirkless herself, she couldn’t demonstrate it, making it impossible for her daughter to grasp the boundaries.
The last incident? Y/N had latched onto a boy with her strings and commanded his body to run and dive into the school pool because he was yelling at Izuku.
“Baby, I told you, the teachers decided it was too dangerous for you to go back after you threw Katsuki in the pool,” M/N explained, eyeing her daughter, hoping she’d understand.
“HE WAS YELLING AT IZUKU, I HAD TO DO SOMETHING!” Y/N shouted back, crossing her arms. She glared at her mother, knowing they’d already had this conversation.
M/N knew well that she had explained this to her.
“Baby, I know it’s hard, but for now, I’ll just teach you at home. Is that alright?” Her mother hoped her little girl would agree. She knew it wasn’t ideal, not having a quirk herself, but maybe showing her videos of heroes, of people using their powers for good, would help her understand.
Y/N looked up at her mother, who was now gathering the last bits of ceramic. The h/c locks partially obscured her face. She was five, but she understood her mother meant well.
“Yeah, Mama, as long as I get to see Izuku every now and then,” Y/N said, smiling brightly. M/N laughed happily, giving her daughter a wink.
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” she replied, making her child smile even more.
And with that, Y/N never went back to school. Not until U.A, anyway.
She visited Izuku’s house a few times, showing off her quirk, making the small boy laugh until they were both exhausted. But, as childhood friendships often do, they slowly drifted apart as Izuku made new friends and Y/N spent more and more time studying at home with her mother.
M/N, however, would always be grateful to Izuku for binge-watching All Might videos with her child day after day.
By the time they were nine, they had completely lost contact.
Y/N had mostly online friends by now, rarely leaving the house. Midoriya was too engrossed in heroes and studying them to make many friends.
Okay, so this can only be described as a little prologue(?) to the story. Future chapters will be longer. I just can’t wait to get started with the main story aaaa, bye <3