Oh! Hello there! It's nice to meet you, I'm Midoriya Izuku, though you may know me as The Arachnid Hero: Spiderman. But, maybe you don't . . . Well, you're here now aren't you? How about I tell you my tale as we wait?

. . .

Yes?

Oh, thank you! I do hope I don't disappoint . . . Not many have heard this story-only my closest friends. I do hope we can be friends!

Well, let's see . . . where to start? Hmm, how about this?

I come from a world where powers and supernatural abilities are the norm. It's genetics not magic, you get a Quirk from one of your parents or a combination of the two.

That is . . .

Unless you're born quirkless, like the other twenty percent of the world's population like you.

I was one of that twenty percent.

I say 'was', well, due to what happened in my second year of middle school.

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The day had seemed normal enough; a few fights between heroes and villains here and there, the spring breeze blowing sakura across the pathways while the kids got back into the flow of school, the sun rising then falling after reaching it's peak.

Normal.

Normal to a boy as he nursed his wounds while shuffling home. The boy didn't stick out much. With his head down as he weaved between the crowd, and the simple uniform he wore, he didn't warrant much attention.

That was his intention.

His shoulder burned slightly, ribs aching, the broken skin on his forehead (from his head hitting a desk) hidden by his unruly green curls. Nothing he wasn't used to. This was his normal after all.

His head stayed down until he got to his doorstep, taking a deep breath and pulling on a bright smile to show to whoever else was inside.

His mother greeted him at the door, her green hair a touch lighter than his, and much straighter, her emerald eyes the same color but slightly smaller.

"Hey, Mom. How are you?" The boy smiled for real, just seeing his mother could do that to him. A true mama's boy.

"Just fine, Izuku, go get changed and you can do your work on the couch as we watch the news." Inko cupped her son's face, his round cheeks dusted in freckles he hadn't gotten from her. With a quick kiss to his nose she padded her way into the living room to wait for her baby boy.

Izuku opened his bedroom door, smiling softly to himself as he grabbed clothes. The boy shucked off his uniform before taking out his medical supplies he kept under his bed and tending to his injuries. A bandage here, anti-burn cream there, rolling his joints out to try and ease the ach, simple stuff.

He didn't bandage his forehead, the white would be a lot more noticeable than the cut itself-besides it had already scabbed over and wasn't even the worst he had gotten.

Grabbing his bag, after slipping on a t-shirt and sweat pants, he made his way out to sit by his mom.

Izuku plopped down on the couch before he leaned into his mother's side, the small woman wrapping her arm around his shoulders and patting his curls with her free hand. Sitting there he felt safe, a small smile taking over and showing a hint of dimples, he pulled out his work while letting the sound of the news fill the background silence.

They ate dinner later just like any other time.

Izuku sat at his desk that night, textbooks pilled high, laptop out, small gadgets littering the free space, drawers open to reveal spare parts scattered with no visible organization. The wall in front of the desk had scrap paper pinned over scrap paper, each with different drawings of everything from simple robotics to complex machinery built for any type of specific purpose.

Several notebooks were sprawled out and opened, each with a different design, different set of ideas, different job entirely.

Two were about heroes, everything he could possibly find on them as he made profile after profile of things from their strengths and weaknesses to their favorite foods and movies.

One was different hero costumes, explaining the pros and cons of every different form of spandex he had ever seen.

The other two were about quirks in general, every quirk he had ever come across and a few he had found online.

To anyone else it would have been a terrible mess, something they could never decipher, let alone work in.

To Izuku, the desk was his own world. He knew each and every page of those notebooks by heart, had read those collage level textbooks religiously, could take apart and rebuild that laptop just as easily as when he had first done it, could tell you where to find any stray design he had even had a fleeting idea of, and give you any spare part he had without even looking up from what he was doing once.

The textbooks he had gotten from book drives, they had been donated and a little beat up but they were perfectly fine. He even made a point of 'earning' the books by working at different charities in his free time. Spare parts were things he found on the street, knickknacks his mother had bought here and there, but mostly from a junkyard of a beach not too far from his house.  That's how he had built his laptop in sixth grade and kept upgrading it whenever he got an idea.

His mom worked hard, getting a check from Izuku's dad (who worked overseas) every month, but it wasn't enough to completely satisfy her son's hobbies. So he did it himself, just so his mother wouldn't have to worry about it.

Izuku sighed before stretching his back, twisting his head to the side to loosen his neck muscles.

It was late, the pitch black outside his window could prove that.

Therefore, Izuku got around to packing up his desk a bit. Sighing as he collapsed onto his bed, Izuku didn't even have the energy to close the window that he had opened to get fresh air in his room. It had a screen and he lived in a good part of town, not much to worry about anyways.

A little ways away, across town in an underground lab, two people peered over their own desk.

On top of the metal surface, a single Petri dish laid under a bright lamp light and magnifying glass held by one of the two men.

"This one should work. After it does . . . We will finally be able to show our progress to him!" The man holding the glass giggled. His bright purple eyes glowed in the dim artificial light of the unshaded lamp. Glittering black hair cut in short spikes swayed as he ran his pale hand through.

"Shush!" The other man scolded, glaring up at the other for only a spilt second before returning to the desk. "You better keep your wits little brother, I can't have you messing this one up!" The voice was higher than the last, the dark hair longer, and his eyes more blue than violet. However you could not mistake them for anything other than brothers, with the same sharp angles to their faces and gleam in their eyes as they focused back on the task at hand.

In the dish sat a spider.

The black as ink skin was only broken by a red hourglass on her back.

Her long legs didn't even twitch as she laid on her belly, eyes closed.

The older brother picked up an eye dropper from the table off beside the desk, filled with a greenish liquid. Using tweezers to hold the arachnid down, and biting his lip in focus, the man dropped three drops of the green substance onto the spider. One at her abdomen, one on her head, the other directly into her mouth.

The tweezers proved useless as the spider jerked awake in pain, hissing as she threw her body backwards. The younger man shrieked as the older growled.

With what energy the spider had, she scuttled up the wall and forced her way out of a crack in the ceiling. Only when she had made her way out of the broken down house and into the alleyways of the city, did the spider realize how fast she had moved.

She had no time to process it.

The spider kept going, feeling as if, if she stopped she would never get up again.

So when she came upon an opened window, a soft lamp light highlighting a boy sprawled out on his bed, the spider acted on something inside her-almost an instinctive urge. She crawled inside, climbing up onto the bed, over the blankets to the boy's wrist.

When the spider stopped moving, her legs gave out, collapsing with only enough energy left in her tiny body to clamp down on the boy's skin with her fangs.

Perhaps this would help bring justice to the ones who had done so much to her and her sisters.