The Force Of Nature

Sparks of Rivalry

The playground buzzed with energy as children ran, climbed, and laughed under the midday sun. It was one of the rare places where quirks could be freely displayed, and the air seemed alive with bursts of color, sound, and movement as the kids reveled in their emerging abilities.

Among the crowd, Katsuki Bakugo stood out like a firecracker in a dark room. At four years old, his personality was already as explosive as the tiny bursts of sparks popping from his palms.

"Watch this!" Katsuki shouted, his voice carrying across the playground as he thrust his hand toward a patch of sand. With a sharp bang, a small explosion sent sand flying into the air, drawing gasps and cheers from the nearby children.

"That's so cool, Kacchan!" one boy said, his eyes wide with admiration.

"Yeah!" another chimed in. "Your quirk is awesome!"

Katsuki grinned, his chest puffing out with pride. "Of course, it's awesome. I'm gonna be the best hero ever!"

A quiet voice from the edge of the crowd cut through the chatter. "Why do you think that makes you a hero?"

The other children turned, and Katsuki's grin faltered as he spotted Izuku standing a few feet away. Her expression was as calm as ever, her green eyes fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and something else—something that Katsuki couldn't quite place.

"What do you mean?" Katsuki demanded, his tone defensive.

Izuku took a step closer, her small frame seemingly unaffected by the tension in the air. "Explosions are loud and scary. Heroes are supposed to protect people, not make them afraid."

Katsuki scowled, his fists clenching as tiny sparks crackled around his fingers. "You don't know anything! You don't even have a quirk!"

The words hung in the air, and the crowd of children fell silent, their gazes flicking nervously between the two.

Izuku tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging. "Why does that matter?"

"It matters because it makes you weak!" Katsuki shot back.

Inko, watching from a nearby bench, started to rise, but Hisashi placed a calming hand on her arm. "Let's see how she handles this," he said quietly.

Back on the playground, Izuku's gaze didn't waver. "I don't think it makes me weak. I think you're just scared of people you can't scare."

Katsuki's face turned red with anger, and he took a step forward, the sparks in his palms flaring brighter. "I'm not scared of anything!"

Izuku's calm demeanor remained unshaken. She looked at Katsuki's hands, where the sparks danced and crackled, then back up at his face. "Are you sure?"

The air around them seemed to shift, growing heavier. Katsuki faltered, the sparks in his hands flickering out as an inexplicable chill ran down his spine. The other children whispered among themselves, their excitement giving way to unease.

"What's going on?" one of them murmured.

"I don't know... It feels weird."

Katsuki stepped back, his bravado dimmed but not extinguished. "You're just a freak," he muttered, turning away.

Izuku watched him go, her expression unreadable. The weight in the air lifted, and the playground slowly returned to its usual energy.

Later that afternoon, as Inko walked home with Izuku, she glanced down at her daughter. "You handled that very well," she said softly.

Izuku looked up at her, her face thoughtful. "Kacchan wasn't really mad at me. He was mad at himself."

Inko blinked, surprised by the insight. "Why do you think that?"