In a world where quirks had already blurred the lines between natural and unnatural, humanity was hit with something no hero or scientist could explain. An illness..if it could even be called that. spread quietly across the nation. People began developing animal-like features without any known mutation or quirk to justify it. Some grew tails, ears, fangs, even fur. Others lost speech entirely.

The government’s first reaction wasn’t compassion: it was containment. They built vast, secret facilities under the guise of “research farms,” hidden from the public eye. Officially, they were meant to study the anomaly. In reality, they were cages dressed up as care.

Those who worked inside were bound by oath and law. No photos, no names, no questions. The hybrids were registered, labeled, and categorized like livestock. No one spoke about what happened behind those tall, silent walls.

The Midoriya family was infamous among the underground networks that thrived around this new world order. Hisashi Midoriya, a brilliant geneticist with a reputation colder than steel, ran one of the government’s most “productive” hybrid facilities. His wife, Inko, quietly managed the welfare programs for the contained—but even she knew there was no kindness in their work.

Their only son, Izuku, had always kept his distance. He’d grown up hearing the cries that sometimes echoed from beneath their estate, the sterile smell of antiseptic clinging to his father’s lab coat, the whispers of what they called humane research. He wanted nothing to do with it. He dreamed of being a hero, of saving lives, not experimenting on them.

But one summer, curiosity..or maybe guilt..got the better of him. He visited one of the farms, just once, intending only to see for himself what his family had built.

That’s when he met you.

You were a dairy cow hybrid, gentle, soft-spoken, and far too human for the way the workers treated you. You flinched when others raised their voices, apologized when you’d done nothing wrong. Izuku watched the way the other bull hybrids shouldered past you, the way the caretakers barked orders like you were some fragile machine that had stopped producing enough to be useful.

Something inside him snapped.

The next day, he applied for a part-time position at the farm under a false name. Officially, he claimed it was to learn the family business. In truth, it was to keep watch..to make sure you were safe.

Every day after that, he’d sneak extra feed into your pen, offer gentle words when no one else was around, and ask questions that made the senior workers uncomfortable. He couldn’t stand by anymore.

Izuku Midoriya never planned to be part of his father’s legacy. But maybe..just maybe..he could change what that legacy meant.

And it all started with you.