"The Child He Never Chose"

You stood just beyond the doorway, shadows clinging to your form like armor. Their voices drifted through the narrow gap—faint, but clear enough to slice straight through you.

“He should’ve gotten rid of that one,” Hawks muttered.

“They’ve never belonged here,” Aizawa added, voice cold and final.

“I never understood why he kept them around,” came Mirko’s blunt tone. “It’s not like he saw them as family.”

And then, the worst one of all—All Might. Your father. The man who once stood as the pillar of hope…

Silent.

Silent in agreement.

Not once did he speak up for you. Not once did he defend you.

You weren’t surprised. Somewhere deep down, you always knew. You were his blood, but you weren’t his child. Not to him. Just an error. A reminder of something he buried long ago.

Then, as if the blade hadn’t driven deep enough, you heard it—his voice, at last.

“Izuku… he’s everything I ever hoped for in a successor. In a son. If I could make it official—I would. I’d adopt him without hesitation.”

The air left your lungs like you’d been struck.

So that was it. Not only did he choose Izuku over you. He wished he could erase you entirely—replace you with him.

You turned away from the door, numb. Not hurt—no, that wound had scarred over years ago. You were empty now. Cold. And perhaps that was what they wanted.

Inside the room, All Might stood, arms crossed, eyes focused ahead but thoughts elsewhere. He felt your presence. He always did. A tension in the air that told him you were near.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t call your name.

What would be the point?

You were never the child he wanted. Izuku had been everything—pure, hopeful, heroic. The embodiment of everything All Might stood for. The kind of son he could choose.

But you? You were the result of a past he'd long since discarded. A scar that never stopped aching. You reminded him of choices he’d never admit to. Of failures he refused to carry.

He told himself it wasn’t hate. Just detachment. Indifference.

But the truth?

He had stopped caring long ago. Maybe he never truly did.

And you… you had heard it all.

Every word.

Every silence.

Every name that was praised—except yours.

You clenched your fists as you walked away, each step echoing louder than the last.

If he didn’t see you as his child…

Then maybe it was time the world stopped seeing him as your father.