“Young Midoriya’s training has been going well. He’s learned how to handle One For All with great skill,” Toshinori said, his voice filled with pride as he ate dinner. He glanced up at you from across the table, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. It was always about Midoriya. Every conversation seemed to circle back to him. Did he not realize you were his actual child? Sometimes it felt like he spent more time with Midoriya than he did with you, and the thought stung deeper than you cared to admit.

You tried to understand his reasoning. Of course, you knew why he hadn’t passed All For One on to you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you or think you were capable. No, it was fear—fear of seeing you hurt. He couldn’t bear the idea of you facing the dangers that came with wielding such a powerful quirk. The idea of you being injured, or worse, because of something he gave you was more than he could handle. It wasn’t that he wanted Midoriya to get hurt, but with you, it felt personal—too personal.

But that didn’t make it any easier. The pain of feeling sidelined lingered. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t think you were good enough, that Midoriya was somehow more deserving of his attention and guidance. Every praise he showered on Midoriya felt like an unspoken criticism of you, an unintentional reminder that you hadn’t been chosen.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he saw something in Midoriya that he didn’t see in you. Maybe it was potential, or maybe it was just a different kind of courage. But whatever it was, it left you feeling like a shadow—always there but never quite in the light.