Time Out
Izuku had lived 10 years Quirkless in a Quirked world.
In a society where everyone from your best friend to your next-door neighbor could shoot fireballs, control the weather, or even teleport, Izuku Midoriya had always felt like an outcast. Every day was a reminder that he was different—that he had nothing to offer. But if you had asked him, back when he was younger, if he would want a Quirk, his answer would have been a resounding yes. He dreamt of becoming a hero like All Might, the Symbol of Peace, but those dreams always seemed to be out of his reach.
Well, he wasn’t offered a Quirk, but he was offered something far more unique than a simple power.
It started on an ordinary afternoon. Izuku was running.
Why was he running, you may ask? Well, you see, the answer is simple:
“GET BACK HERE, DEKU!” Bakugo roared, his voice filled with rage. The familiar sound of his footsteps thundered behind Izuku, getting closer with every second.
Izuku didn’t need to look back to know Bakugo was gaining on him. He could feel the heat of his fury, the violent energy that seemed to radiate from his childhood friend—his childhood bully. Ever since they were kids, Bakugo had never let up on him, calling him weak and useless because Izuku was Quirkless. And now, Bakugo had caught wind of Izuku’s latest “failure” to stand up for himself in front of their classmates. As usual, he was ready to make sure Izuku knew just how useless he was.
Izuku's legs burned with the effort to run faster, but he was still no match for Bakugo’s explosive speed. The anger in Bakugo’s voice spurred him on, and for a moment, Izuku thought of turning around to face him. But no, that would be pointless. Instead, he pushed himself harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he ran down the suspiciously empty street.
That’s when he saw him.
A figure stood at the edge of the sidewalk—tall, cloaked in a flowing gold and emerald suit, with a jacket that reached down to his thighs. His stance was graceful, confident, and utterly out of place in the usual chaos of the world.
As Izuku passed him, something strange happened. It was as if the world itself froze. The sound of his footsteps vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. His heart pounded in his chest, but the only noise was his breathing.
And then, he heard it—**a voice with a refined English accent:
“Time Out.”
The words were simple, yet when they were spoken, everything around him seemed to stop. The rustling of leaves in the trees halted mid-descent. Birds, once flapping their wings overhead, froze in midair. The bustling noise of the world… vanished.
Izuku’s eyes widened as e looked around. He was still running, but everything—*everything—had stopped. Bakugo and his cronies were frozen mid-run, their faces contorted in anger and frustration. Even the cars on the street had stopped, their wheels motionless, as if time itself had come to a screeching halt.
Izuku’s gaze shifted back to the man in the gold and emerald suit. He was the only one unaffected, his eyes locked onto Izuku’s with a piercing intensity that made Izuku feel exposed, as though the man could see right through him.
*The man stared at Izuku with his piercing emerald eyes behind golden-rimmed black glasses.
There was something almost hypnotic about his gaze, a quiet, unnerving power that made Izuku’s heart race, though not from fear. There was an odd warmth to the man's presence, an energy that made the air around him shimmer slightly, as though reality itself bent to his will.
Izuku could feel the heat rising around the man, though it wasn’t burning—just a strange, comfortable warmth. It felt as though the very air itself was vibrating with energy.
Looking directly at the man seemed to slightly hurt Izuku’s eyes. It was like staring at the sun—intense, radiant, and impossible to ignore. He blinked, trying to pull his gaze away, but it was as though the man’s eyes had a magnetic pull on him.
After a long, awkward silence, the man finally spoke:
“You wouldn’t happen to be Quirkless, would you, young lad?”
Izuku’s chest tightened, and the weight of the question hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes fell to the ground as a wave of exhaustion, sadness, and shame washed over him. His Quirklessness was something he’d carried with him for as long as he could remember, a constant reminder that he was different, inferior to the rest of the world. To be asked about it so directly—it was as if the man had pulled the very thought from his mind.
Izuku didn’t need to speak. He simply nodded, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth. For a moment, there was silence—an uncomfortable silence where the only sound was the thrum of Izuku’s heartbeat.
Then, to his shock, the man spoke again, his voice gentle and filled with unexpected warmth:
“Perfect. I’d like to offer you a scholarship to my school, if you’re interested.”
Izuku’s head shot up, his eyes wide in disbelief. He had imagined a thousand scenarios in which someone might offer him a Quirk, but this was something else entirely. This wasn’t just about gaining power—it was about being seen for who he was, for what he could become. The man’s gentle smile and the faint glow surrounding him were like a beacon of hope Izuku had never dared to dream about.
After staring at him for what felt like an eternity, Izuku jolted back to reality. He bowed awkwardly, not entirely sure how to respond.
“I would love to, but I’d have to get permission from my mom.”
The man’s smile never faltered. “Naturally. Here, take my card. When you need to speak with me, just tear it.”
Izuku’s eyes were drawn to the card that materialized before him. It was made of shimmering white and gold threads, glowing softly in the stillness of the frozen world. The threads twisted and formed into a solid object, delicate and beautiful. Hesitantly, Izuku reached out and took it.
The man nodded. “Now, why don’t you run home? I’ll take care of your bullies. Besides, we’ve been here long enough, and reality doesn’t like staying past this long.”
The man turned, his cloak swishing as he did. As Izuku watched, a symbol appeared on the back of his cloak—a triangle, a circle, and a line, intricately woven into the fabric. The symbol seemed to pulse with a quiet, resonant energy.
With a final glance over his shoulder, the man vanished into thin air, leaving Izuku standing alone in the frozen world.
Izuku didn’t waste a moment. He ran home as fast as he could, his mind racing with questions, hopes, and a growing sense of wonder. The world around him remained still, as though time had never started again. But the moment his foot crossed the threshold of his home, reality snapped back into place. The sounds of traffic, birds, and people talking returned as if nothing had ever happened.
Izuku stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding in his chest, before he rushed to his mom.
She was in the kitchen, humming a soft tune, but when Izuku entered, she stopped, sensing something was off. She turned to him with a concerned look. “Izuku? Is everything okay?”
Without a word, Izuku reached into his pocket and pulled out the glowing card. His hands shook slightly as he handed it to her.
She looked down at the card, her brows furrowing as she saw the strange symbol, but when she read the name above it, her expression softened.
Professor H. Hallow.
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