My Quirk wants me dead

The Possibility of a Quirk

Wait, what? 

A quirk? 

Me?

I mean I've been telling this for ages but no one believes me!

Me: A quirk? But I've been tested—I'm quirkless.

Mic: Hold on, Sho. That doesn't add up. If this was a quirk, it would've shown up on the tests, right? And besides, quirks don't work like this. They don't randomly cause accidents that almost kill you.

Eraserhead: Not necessarily. There are quirk mutations, recessive genes, quirks that evolve over time. It's rare, but it's possible that Izuku's quirk, if he has one, could be something unpredictable.

I can't believe this. 

After all these years of being told I'm quirkless, now they think I might have one?

Besides me not really believing this quirkless shit at all!

What else is this?

A curse?

In our age? 

Me: But why would a quirk try to... hurt me? Quirks are supposed to be something that helps, right?

Eraserhead: Not all quirks are beneficial. Some can be dangerous, especially if they're uncontrolled or not fully understood. It's possible that whatever's happening to you is some kind of defensive mechanism, one that's gone haywire.

Mic: I don't know, Shoooo. This still doesn't sit right with me. A quirk trying to kill its own user? That's unheard of.

Why does it feel like they're talking about someone else's life? 

Before they could continue, the door swung open, and a nurse came in, holding a clipboard. She was all business, moving quickly to my bedside, her eyes scanning me over like I was just another patient on her list.

Nurse: Alright, let's check those vitals, shall we? You're looking much better now.

Better? 

I feel like I've been run over by a train. 

Twice.

She started taking my blood pressure, checking my pulse, and scribbling down notes. I could tell she was trying to be efficient, but there was a nervous energy about her, like she was in a hurry to get out of there.

Eraserhead and Mic were still talking in hushed tones, but I could barely focus on what they were saying because the nurse was now fiddling with the IV in my arm. I winced as she adjusted it, a sharp pain shooting up my arm.

Me: Uh, that doesn't feel right...

Nurse: Sorry about that, dear. Just a quick adjustment.

But instead of making it better, she somehow managed to twist the IV tube wrong, causing the needle to dig painfully into my vein. I hissed in pain, and before I knew it, blood started seeping from the site, trickling down my arm.

Oh, great. 

Just what I needed.

Me: Ow, ow, ow! That really hurts!

The nurse's eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. Her face went pale, and she started to panic, her hands shaking as she tried to fix the mess she'd made. But the more she tried to correct it, the worse it got. The blood was coming faster now, and the pain was getting sharper.

Nurse: Oh no, oh no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—

Eraserhead and Mic both snapped to attention, their conversation forgotten as they rushed to my side.

Mic: What the heck's going on?!

Eraserhead: Move aside!

Eraserhead gently pushed the nurse out of the way and quickly clamped his hand over the IV site, stopping the bleeding. His calmness was the only thing keeping me from freaking out even more than I already was.

Why does this keep happening?

The nurse was now practically trembling, her face as white as a sheet. She looked like she was about to cry, and I could see the sheer panic in her eyes as she realized how badly she'd messed up.

Nurse: I... I don't know how this happened! I've never had something like this happen before! I'm so sorry!

Eraserhead kept his hand on my arm, his expression stern but not unkind.

Eraserhead: It's alright. Just stay calm. We'll handle this.

Mic stood by, looking between me and the nurse, his usual upbeat demeanor completely gone. He seemed just as shaken as she was, but he was doing his best to keep it together.

Mic: You okay? That looked like it hurt."

Yeah, it hurt. 

But what's new?

Me: I'm fine, I think.

Eraserhead motioned for the nurse to go get help, and she bolted out of the room, clearly grateful for the excuse to get out of there. As soon as she was gone, Eraserhead carefully removed the IV from my arm, making sure there was no more damage.

Eraserhead: Just take it easy. We'll get someone else in here to re-do this.

Mic: Man, you've got the worst luck. Even the nurses can't get it right around you.

Tell me about it.