Sometimes I forget how small we really are.
I was sitting on the edge of the sandbox, observing the playground with a calm that wasn't typical for a four-year-old. There were no "jungles" or "predators" here, just kids learning to use their bodies and voices, sometimes with cruelty because no one had taught them better. Child psychology is fascinating, but exhausting when you have an adult mind trapped in a preschooler's body.
I sighed, shaking the sand off my sneakers. My goal in this life isn't to be the "king" of this place, but to ensure the future is better than the story I know.
"Leave me alone!" Izuku's voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up. Near the swings, three kids were surrounding Izuku. It wasn't an epic fight; they were just bullying him. They were laughing at him, shoving him gently, mocking his lack of a Quirk. Izuku, as always, tried to make himself small, hugging his notebook against his chest, holding back tears.
I felt a pang of annoyance, not with Izuku, but with the situation. In the original canon, I would have been right there, leading the mockery. But now... now I just saw a kind boy being punished for something he didn't choose.
I stood up and walked toward them. I didn't need explosions or theatrical shouting. I simply walked at a steady pace.
"That's enough," I said when I reached them. My tone was calm, almost bored, but firm.
The three kids stopped. They knew me. They knew my Quirk was strong, but more than that, they knew I didn't play their silly games.
"K-Katsuki... we were just telling Deku that..." one started.
"I know what you were doing," I interrupted, stepping between them and Izuku. I didn't adopt a combat stance; I simply drew a line. I looked the kid in the eye. "Izuku is my training partner. If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. And honestly, I prefer using my time on more productive things than arguing with you. Is that clear?"
The kids exchanged uncomfortable glances. Without the fun of an easy victim, the game lost its appeal. They muttered a reluctant "yes" and scattered quickly.
I turned to Izuku. He was already wiping his eyes, trying to smile.
"Thanks, Kacchan... sorry for bothering you."
I shook my head gently.
"You're not a bother, Izuku. But you have to stop listening to what the extras say. Your worth doesn't depend on what they think." I patted him on the shoulder. "Come on. We have training in the woods. That's the only thing that matters right now."
The forest was quiet that afternoon. The "training" we did was simple: running, climbing, strengthening the body. I knew Izuku needed a solid physical base long before receiving One For All, and I needed to perfect my control.
It wasn't a competition. We were two hopefuls running side by side.
"Kacchan, look! I can keep up with you!" Izuku said, panting, but with a bright determination in his eyes.
"I see that," I replied, slowing down a bit so we ran abreast. "You're improving your stamina. Good job!"
We reached the river. The old fallen log crossed from one side to the other. It was our last obstacle of the day.
"Be careful, it rained yesterday. The moss must be slippery," I warned, going first.
I walked carefully, focused. I wasn't showing off, I just wanted to cross. But a four-year-old body sometimes betrays even the most prepared mind. I stepped on a piece of rotten bark, my foot gave way, and I lost my balance.
There was no time to react.
Splash!
I fell backward into the cold water. The impact stunned me for a second, more from surprise than pain. I sat on the riverbed, waist-deep in water, blinking.
Wow... how clumsy, I thought, with a mix of shame and resignation. Even with an adult mind, gravity is relentless.
"Kacchan!"
Izuku's voice sounded alarmed. I heard the frantic splashing before I saw him.
Izuku had jumped into the water without a second thought. He reached my side, pale with worry, and held out his hand.
"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" he asked, his eyes scanning my body for injuries.
I stared at him. The scene superimposed over my memories of the manga, over that iconic image of his outstretched hand. But this time, I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel looked down upon.
What I saw was simply Izuku. The pure essence of a hero who doesn't need power to act. He didn't think about himself or if I would get mad. He just wanted to help his friend.
It's incredible, I thought, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with my Quirk. Even now, being so small, he is already who he needs to be.
I smiled. A small, genuine smile.
"I'm fine, Izuku. I just slipped." I took his hand. His grip was firm and warm.
He sighed with relief and used all his childish strength to help me up.
"You scared me," he admitted, letting out a nervous giggle.
"I scared myself too," I acknowledged, shaking the water off my arms. "Thanks for the help."
Izuku lit up like I had given him the best gift in the world.
We got out of the river, soaked but calm. As we walked back, with the setting sun drying us a bit, I looked sideways at Izuku.
This was the closing of a chapter. Preschool was over. The real story, the one about school and the path to U.A., was about to begin. But this time, the foundation was different. There was no resentment or toxic inferiority complexes.
There was respect.
"Hey, Izuku," I said.
"Yes, Kacchan?"
"Keep it up." I looked ahead, toward the road home. "We're going to be great heroes. Both of us."
Izuku nodded with a determined smile.
"Yes!"
[End of Preschool Arc]