Midoriya smiled, real this time. He paused at the door.
"Khan-sensei?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I... come back sometime? If my head starts doing that again?"
"Anytime," Khan said. "Door's open."
Midoriya nodded.
He was halfway to the door, fingers already on the handle, when Khan spoke again.
"Midoriya. Before you go."
Izuku turned back.
"Can you show me your Quirk?" Khan asked. "I studied Quirks a lot when I was younger. Might be able to help you get more control out of it."
Midoriya oh'ed. His mouth opened, then closed. He stared at the floor for a second, jaw working.
"In here?" he asked.
Khan glanced around the office. Desk. Chairs. Window. Nothing fragile except maybe the ancient filing cabinet that looked one bad sneeze away from retirement.
"We won't go wild," Khan said. "Low output. Just enough for me to see it."
Midoriya hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."
He stepped away from the door and stood in the open space near the window. He rolled his shoulders, took a breath, and clenched his fists.
Khan didn't interrupt. He leaned back against the desk, arms folded, eyes on Midoriya.
Izuku closed his eyes.
The air changed. Green lightning crawled across his right arm. His hair lifted slightly.
Khan watched closely.
Midoriya held it for a few seconds, teeth grit, then let it go. The energy snapped off. His shoulders sagged and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Okay," Khan said. "That's enough."
Midoriya nodded, hands on his thighs, breathing hard. "Sorry. It still feels... loud."
Khan stepped closer, circling Midoriya, eyes tracking the places where the energy had flared strongest.
"I can see it," Khan said. "Your Quirk's ridiculous. In a raw way. It boosts your physical stats across the board. Strength, speed, defence. All of it, multiplied."
Midoriya winced. "Yeah. And my body hates it."
"Your body isn't built for the full output," Khan said. "You're trying to run a race car engine in a frame that's still learning how to walk."
Midoriya nodded hard. "That's what Al--- my teacher said. He told me to imagine... microwaving an egg. Slowly. Low power. But it doesn't work. I can't get it that small."
Khan frowned, thoughtful, pacing a step, then stopping in front of him.
Khan put on an exaggerated frown and squinted at Midoriya's arm.
"I can see the problem already," he said. "You're not doing it."
Midoriya blinked. "Doing what?"
"It doesn't revolve around your body," Khan said. He made a slow circle with his finger. "You're dumping power into one spot and praying the rest of you keeps up."
Midoriya frowned. "Revolve?"
"You know how a microwave tray spins," Khan said. "Slow turn. Same heat. The food doesn't get nuked in one corner while the rest stays cold."
Midoriya stared, eyes wide. "S-s-spins? Microwave trays spin?"
Khan gave him a look that said this was basic survival knowledge. "You didn't know?"
Midoriya scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "Uh. Ours at home is really old. It doesn't spin at all."
Khan barked a laugh before he could stop it. "Oh. That explains everything."
Midoriya blinked. "It does?"
"Yeah," Khan said, waving him closer. "It wasn't you screwing up the mental picture. You were working with busted reference material. That's not a skill issue. That's outdated appliances."
Midoriya let out a small, stunned noise. "Oh."
Khan pointed at Midoriya's arm. "You're shoving your Quirk straight into one spot. All power, one lane. That's why it cooks your bones first. You're nuking one corner of the egg."
Midoriya winced. "That… yeah. That sounds right."
He walked over to the small microwave tucked into the corner of his office. It looked like it had survived three principals and at least one fire drill evacuation stampede. He grabbed a chipped mug from the shelf and filled it with water from the sink.
"Come here," Khan said.
Midoriya shuffled closer, eyes glued to the microwave. Khan set the mug dead center on the tray and closed the door.
"You're treating your Quirk the same way your microwave treats food," he said. "You dump everything into one spot and hope the rest of it figures itself out."
He hit start.
The tray inside began to rotate slowly.
Midoriya leaned forward. "It's moving."
"Yeah," Khan said. "That's the whole trick."
Midoriya's mouth hung open.
Khan let it run for a few seconds, then stopped it and opened the door. Steam curled up from the mug.
"You're pushing your Quirk straight into one body part," Khan said. "That power doesn't spread. It piles up. It cooks one section of the egg and leaves the rest raw."
Midoriya swallowed. "So when I focus it into my arm..."
"You nuke it," Khan finished. "Your bones take the hit. Muscles tear. Joints scream."
Midoriya looked down at his hands. His fingers flexed slowly, as if they remembered every crack and snap.
"I thought that was just... the price," he said.
Khan snorted. "That's the price of bad distribution."
He stepped back from the microwave and leaned against the counter.
"Your Quirk doesn't care where it flows," he said. "You tell it where to go, and it listens. The problem is, you keep sending it into the weakest parts first."
Midoriya frowned. "My hands?"
"Your hands," Khan said. "Small bones. Fine motor structure. Tons of joints. They're built for precision, not shock."
Midoriya's shoulders slumped. "But Al- my teacher also use punches."
"Probably breaks knuckles too," Khan said.
Midoriya let out a small, breathy laugh that died quickly. "So what do I do?"
Khan pushed off the counter and stepped closer. He crouched and tapped Midoriya's shin with two fingers.
"You start here."
Midoriya blinked. "My legs?"
"Yeah," Khan said. "Your legs are load bearing monsters. Thick bones. Big muscles. Built to absorb impact and throw weight."
He stood and paced a step, then another.
"You ever see sprinters wreck their arms?" Khan asked. "No. They blow out hamstrings, knees, ankles. That's because legs are doing the real work."
Midoriya nodded slowly. "So if I push power into my legs..."
"You still have to be careful," Khan said. "But you've got more margin before something snaps."
Midoriya hesitated. "Wouldn't that make me kick instead of punch?"
Khan shrugged. "So kick."
Midoriya looked unsure. "Al- Heroes usually punch."
"Heroes also usually have control," Khan said. "You don't yet. That's not an insult. That's where you're at."
Midoriya chewed on his lip.
"You don't need to fight pretty," Khan went on. "You need to fight without wrecking yourself every time you move."
Midoriya straightened a bit. "I could use it for movement too. Jumps. Dodges."
Khan smiled. "Now you're getting it."
Midoriya stared at the microwave again, then back at his own legs, then at his hands.
"So instead of dumping everything into one finger or one punch," he said slowly, "I spread it through my legs. Let it cycle."
"Exactly," Khan said. "Think rotation. Think flow. Not a spike."
Midoriya's eyes lit up. He rubbed the back of his neck. "My mom's microwave really messed me up."
Khan laughed again. "Sue the manufacturer."
Midoriya's grin lingered, then faded into something thoughtful.
"So if I train this," he said, "I could eventually use my hands again. Safely."
"Yeah," Khan said. "Once your control improves, you can route power wherever you want. Arms. Core. Whole body."
Midoriya nodded. "But until then, legs first."
"Legs first," Khan echoed.
Midoriya turned toward the door, then paused. He smiled, then bowed quickly. "I won't forget this," he said.
Khan waved him off with two fingers, already turning back to his desk and let the smile fall off his face.
Two weeks.
Two weeks and the Sports Festival would roll in with its banners and fake cheer and broadcast smiles. Midoriya would use his legs. Full Cowling, even at baby levels, changed everything. Movement instead of suicide punches. Momentum instead of bone shards. He'd place high. Not first, probably.
Bakugo would still wreck him. The kid wasn't ready to face that ghost yet. That kind of scar didn't heal in weeks.
Still, he'd do well enough.
Enough to walk out of that stadium with his head up and people finally saying his name without pity attached.
Khan snorted and reached for his coffee.
Midoriya would get more internship offers. Kid had too much raw juice for the Hero Course to ignore forever. One good showing at the Sports Festival, one loud moment where he didn't explode like a live grenade in his own skin, and the floodgates would creak.
And now Midoriya trusted him.
Khan had a window.
His fingers tapped at the armrest. Head full of ifs and whens and how hard the landing would be.
"I'll send Midoriya away from Hosu."
"Far from Gran Torino. Far from Hosu."
He grinned.
"Far from Stain."
That was the prize. The Hero Killer wouldn't see green hair flailing through alleys this time. Wouldn't get a new obsession. Wouldn't see All Might's successor limping away from a puddle of someone else's blood.
And without Midoriya...
Todoroki wouldn't be there either. The pretty boy with ice daddy issues went only because Midoriya sent him a message.
But Iida?
Khan rolled his neck, listening to the bones pop. Only Iida would charge into that chaos. Only Iida with his half-fried guilt and that big dumb funeral energy dragging behind him like a fucking wedding train. He'd go, alright. And he wouldn't come back.
"If he dies off-campus, it won't hit UA's rep too hard," he muttered.
Would get a memorial wall. Would get flowers on a desk or drama in the teacher lounge. Just another statistic, internship fatality, cause, independent recklessness.
[Corrupted Fate Triggered
Alternate Death Condition: Iida Tenya
Reward Queue: Pending]
Clean. Efficient. One student out. One transfer slot open.
"Who's a good candidate to fill Iida's place?" Khan asked aloud, even though he already knew.
Midoriya.
Because fate loved symmetry. And nothing greased the gears like tragedy making room for promotion.
Khan clicked his tongue and nodded to himself.
Midoriya would walk into Class 1-A under a banner of forced smiles and silent judgment, sit the empty table with fresh flowers. They'd resent him for it. They'd whisper. They'd stare. He'd bite it down. Swallow the cold shoulder. And then he'd make them watch him win.
Khan sipped his drink and laughed under his breath.
"Good," he whispered. "That's what I'm feeding him for."
He wanted loyalty wrapped in self-discovery. Dependency masked as gratitude. Midoriya would think he could only trust Khan. Especially after All Might's fall…
**-**
This novel is completed. I'm currently editing the chapters and uploading them to Patreon. If you'd like to read the full novel and support my work, please feel free to check it out. Available up to Chapter 38 so far.
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