Age: 12
"Tungsten is too heavy and brittle for the bracers," I said, kicking a pebble as we walked back from the hardware store. "I need a titanium-aluminum alloy. Lightweight, but heat resistant."
"But titanium is expensive, Kacchan," Izuku replied, adjusting his backpack. "Unless you find an aerospace scrap yard, we'll have to settle for reinforced steel for now."
We were debating costume logistics. A normal afternoon.
Then, the world broke.
A sharp screech of tires, so loud it hurt my eardrums, tore through the air. Fifty meters from us, a delivery truck lost control at the intersection, skidded violently, and crashed sideways into the front of a bakery.
The crash was visceral. Metal twisting, glass shattering, and the dull sound of structure giving way.
"Kacchan!"
I didn't wait. My body reacted before my brain. I dropped the shopping bags and ran toward the smoke.
"Stay back!" I yelled at Izuku, though I knew he wouldn't listen.
I reached the truck in seconds. The cab was crushed against the brick wall. The driver, a middle-aged man, was slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. There was blood. A lot of blood.
I raised my hands, ready to blow the jammed door open with a controlled explosion.
Sniff!
I stopped dead. My nose, trained to detect chemical compounds, picked up the unmistakable scent.
Gasoline.
The fuel tank had ruptured on impact. A dark pool was spreading rapidly under the chassis, mixing with hot engine oil.
I froze.
If I used my Quirk... if I released a single spark... I would vaporize the driver and anyone within a ten-meter radius. My greatest weapon, had just become a death sentence.
I felt useless. For the first time in this life, I felt completely powerless. My adult mind calculated the odds: no hydraulic tools, no fire gear, no Quirk...
"Kacchan, don't shoot!" Izuku's voice sounded beside me. It wasn't trembling. It was sharp.
Izuku slid under the twisted metal, ignoring the broken glass crunching under his sneakers.
"There's a fuel leak!" I shouted at him. "It's going to blow!"
"I know!" Izuku was already by the broken cab window. He wasn't looking at the potential fire; he was looking at the driver. "He has a laceration on the temporal artery! He's losing a lot of blood!"
Izuku took off his school uniform jacket in one fluid motion. He balled it up and pressed it hard against the man's head.
"Kacchan!" he shouted, turning his head toward me. His green eyes held no fear; they held orders. "Don't use explosions! Use your strength! I need you to bend the door frame! Now!"
I blinked. The "Snake" was in command.
I shook off the paralysis. I approached the truck, planting my boots on the oil-stained asphalt. I grabbed the bent edge of the driver's door. The metal was hot.
"On three!" I growled.
I activated every muscle in my enhanced body. My muscle fibers, dense as steel cables, tensed. No explosions. Just biomechanical brute force.
Creeeeak!
The metal groaned. My biceps burned. I felt something tear in my shoulder, but I didn't stop.
"More!" urged Izuku, who was inside the cab, keeping pressure on the wound with one hand and unbuckling the driver's seatbelt with the other.
With a roar of effort, I ripped the top hinges off. The door gave way enough.
Izuku already had the driver free.
"Watch his neck!" Izuku warned. "Pull him out slowly!"
Between the two of us, we pulled the man out of the vehicle and dragged him away from the gasoline puddle, just as fire sirens began to wail in the distance.
We laid him on the safe sidewalk. Izuku didn't stop. He checked the airways, checked the pulse, and adjusted the pressure of his blood-soaked jacket on the wound.
"Pulse weak but steady... airways clear... doesn't seem to be obvious spinal damage..." Izuku muttered, totally in "the zone."
I stood there, staring at my hands. They were stained with grease and blood, but not gunpowder.
They were shaking. Not from the effort, but from the reality that had just hit me.
If I had been alone... if I had followed my instinct to "blow the door"... that man would be dead. Incinerated.
Paramedics arrived seconds later. One of them gently moved Izuku aside.
"Good job with the pressure, kid. You saved him from bleeding out."
We stepped back as the professionals took control. Firefighters sprayed foam on the truck before the gasoline could ignite.
We sat on the curb, exhausted. Izuku had blood on his shirt and grease on his face. I rubbed my aching shoulder.
"You did good," I said. My voice sounded hoarse.
Izuku looked at his trembling hands. The adrenaline was fading and the fear was starting to creep in.
"I... I just remembered what I read in that first aid manual you bought last month." He looked at me. "You opened the door, Kacchan. Without you, we wouldn't have gotten him out."
I shook my head.
"I was going to blow him up, Izuku." I looked him in the eye, making sure he understood the gravity. "I smelled the gas, but my first instinct was to use my Quirk. If you hadn't taken command..."
I left the sentence hanging. I didn't need to finish it.
I looked at the wrecked truck.
"My Quirk is for destroying. It's a weapon. But being a hero isn't just killing villains." I clenched my fist. "I felt useless, Deku. Completely useless without my explosions."
Izuku was quiet for a moment. Then, he leaned his shoulder against mine.
"That's why we're a team, right?" he said softly. "You have the firepower. I have the damage control."
I sighed, letting my head drop back.
"We need to study combat medicine." It was a statement, not a suggestion. "Anatomy, triage, collapsed structure rescue. I'm not going to freeze again while you do all the hard work."
Izuku smiled, a tired but genuine smile.
"I have a book on that at home."
"Good. We start tonight."
I stood up and offered him a hand to help him up.
We didn't win any fights that day. We didn't defeat any villains. But as we watched the ambulance take the driver away alive, I knew we had won something more important.
Izuku had proven he didn't need a Quirk to save a life. And I had learned that the greatest power isn't always the one that makes the most noise.