Chapter Text
“What’s magic?”
Izuku looked up at the person sitting against the cobblestone wall, a diamond patterned mask and cloak covering any discernible features. All he could see was their smile.
“Magic is the foundation of our world, boy,” they said, and pointed to the tiny yellow device Izuku was holding. “You received that at the festival, yes? Did you ever wonder why you could hear the announcer so clearly? Or how the pegasi carriages soar across the sky?”
The witch held out their hand, as little images floated above it and illuminated the small area they were situated in. Izuku’s eyes widened with every new projection. “Magic can do all… that?”
“It can do much, much more. Would you like to see?” They reached under their cloak and took out a tiny book. “For a small fee, you could enter into the world of magic.”
Izuku was surprised by the sudden product placement, and glanced between the book and the witch more than once. He proceeded to go on a spiel: “I don’t know. All Might doesn’t use magic, and he’s plenty strong as there is. No one could ever beat him, with or without ‘magic’.”
The witch stilled at the mention of Izuku’s idol. They then held out the book further, and took out a wand. “If you take this book, you’ll find that there’s a lot more to power than brute strength. You could even amaze the man himself with the heaps of contents inside. Look, I’ll even throw in a wand for free.”
“I could amaze All Might?” Izuku whispered to himself, staring more intensely at the book. He’d never been good at swordsfighting, could barely fight with his hands or ride a horse, but if there was a way to impress him without brute strength, shouldn’t it be worth it?
Without a second thought, Izuku bought the book with what little funds his mother had given him for the festival.
He didn’t notice the witch’s lingering gaze as he ran back towards the light.
The entire encounter was then quickly explained to his mom, rushing through the minor details and instead focusing on how insane magic must be to impress the hero of the entire continent. Instead of encouraging him, though, Inko just looked sadly at him.
“You have to be born a witch to use magic, Izuku.”
“But that’s unfair! Magic is amazing! Why would only witches be able to use it?” Izuku looked down at the picture book and wand, which after observing closely, looked like a normal pen. Was the witch a liar?
“We regular folk aren’t built for it. That’s just how the world works,” she answered, and both watched as Izuku’s yellow device lit up, announcing that the festival had ended. “Sorry, honey.”
Despite her proclamation, after they walked home, Izuku began his obsession with magic. The book held wild pictures of things magic could make, along with some weird circle symbols, but no matter how many incantations Izuku tried to declare, nothing would happen.
It took a few days to accept that he wasn’t born a witch. He spent hours after that day cooped up inside, trying to find some hidden secret within the book’s pages that would reveal whatever Izuku wanted to know. His hands traced over the pictures again and again, thinking back to the tiny projections the patterned witch had easily shown off.
If witches were so powerful, why couldn’t they share the secret of magic?
Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if they all had access to life-changing spells?
That’s just how the world works.
Even with that thought annoyingly propped up in his head, it didn’t suppress his desire to learn everything about what magic could do.
[A few years later..]
Inko’s little shop was not meant for the amount of people currently inside. A line swept through the crowd, mixed with others looking at the rows of medicines she had on display. A mix of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ along with mindless chatter filled the room with noise, with only one window open letting air cool down whatever it could inside.
They seemed to be composed of a group of students, with regular customers in the mix, all standing above Inko, who was rushing back and forth between the cabinets filled with herbs. Her movements were swift and precise, sorting through the huge number of herbs inside each cabinet.
While she went on completing orders, Izuku was simply watching from the corner of the room, trying his best to help everyone find what they needed. If he tried to help his mom, he’d just get in the way.
Still, the young students kept trying to touch everything in sight. He tried his best to reroute them towards their tutors, snatching vials and plants from their hands before they could eat and probably poison themselves from the numerous plants around the place.
It wasn’t exactly clear why the school had decided to send these kids on a field trip to an apothecary, but he had to deal with them anyway.
The apothecary was also situated upon a tall hill, a small detour from the village nearby, which might have proved an exercise for the group. Perhaps the teachers just wanted to take the students on a walk and disturb a store on the way.
“Are you sure you don’t have any silverwood? I thought a plant shop would have some seeds.” A voice rang out among the crowd, aimed directly at his mother. A young man was waving coins in front of her. “I have the money!”
“I’m sorry, but those seeds are not meant for helping with whatever ailments you might have,” Inko said, “Besides, you can’t just plant them in a pot and expect them to grow. They’re not something to be messing around with either.”
The young man stormed off, shoving his way through the other customers. What did he expect? Anyone with some basic knowledge of plants knew how rare silverwood was to find in the first place, and with a little more knowledge, would know mostly witches were the main cultivators of the tree. Izuku forgot exactly what it was used for, but it was definitely not going to cure that man’s temper.
He was so engrossed in the complete lack of knowledge that man held, he accidentally bumped into someone just entering the store.
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was…” Izuku’s train of thought ended as he looked up at the man and noticed a gray cap upon his head. His eyes widened. A witch. A real, live witch.
The man had unkempt black hair, a pale complexion, and looked like he hadn’t slept for days. When Izuku thought about a witch, this man barely seemed to pass, only gaining his title from the hat and cloak. He barely gave Izuku a second glance, instead narrowing his eyes at the crowd in front of him.
Without a second to spare, he turned around and walked right back through the door.
“W-wait, sir! I can help with whatever you need!” Izuku followed him, calling out. He wasn’t about to miss his one chance to actually talk with a witch.
“There seems to be more important customers that need attending to,” the man said, and kept walking. There had to be some excuse, some reason for him to stay–
A scream came from inside the shop. Izuku ran back in, to see the crowd circled around a shelf that had fallen over and launched many different vials against the ground. A mess of herbs and shattered glass coated the floor, with the culprit sitting in the middle of it all. One of the students was now crying, with a tiny scrape on her face.
She was quickly grabbed out of the debris by one of the teachers, who scolded her while wiping off the blood from her face. Izuku couldn’t get himself to care about her. A whole section of the store had been pushed over, products worth hundreds of coins now smashed on the ground.
Inko equally looked distressed at the mess. The teacher apologized to her once, and went on to herd the rest of the students out of the store. Meanwhile, the few customers left also moved to leave as Inko tried to clean up whatever she could.
“Excuse me, I think I could be of some help.”
Inko and Izuku looked over to see the tired witch from earlier. Izuku’s face lit up at once as the thought of seeing a witch in action began taking over his brain.
“Really? Do you need anything to help?” Inko asked, and looked up at the witch. She planted her hand firmly on Izuku’s shoulder.
“If you have any spare vials or jars, that would be great,” he said, “Also, I’ll need you both to leave while I perform magic inside.”
Inko rushed to take out some vials from the other shelves, leaving Izuku to stare up at the witch. “Why can’t we watch?”
“Secret,” the witch grunted, stopping the conversation where it stood. Maybe magic has to be performed alone for it to work, or couldn’t have regular people anywhere near it. That wouldn’t make sense though, as we could use magical contraptions just fine… The witch was staring harder at Izuku. “You seem to have a lot of thoughts, kid.”
“Oh, was I saying that aloud? Sorry,” Izuku said, “I just wanna see magic in real life, like the pictures my book has. Do you have to say special words to activate magic? Did you know a real witch gave me that picture book? I’m Izuku, by the way!”
“A picture book..?” The witch parroted, though his response to Izuku just allowed him to ask further questions that would not be answered.
“Izuku, leave the man alone,” Inko said, dragging him outside as he protested, “Sorry. He’s just infatuated with magic.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” the witch muttered, before Inko shut the door and turned to Izuku and sighed.
“You shouldn’t bother someone who offered to help us for free, honey,” she said, “Witch or not.”
“I know, but this is my one chance to interact with a witch. You don’t see them everyday. I could see real magic in action, and ask how it works, and finally get answers for my notebooks! Witches barely come around here anyway,” Izuku said, and glanced back at the door.
“You have your own magic, Izuku,” Inko said warmly, ruffling through his hair, “The magic of love is nothing to laugh at.”
A harsh wind blew past them and Inko stood up.
“Give me one second, I have to check on the plants growing behind the house. Can’t lose anymore of those,” she said.
She turned the corner. My magic can’t make carriages fly, though. Izuku sat against the door and slumped on the ground. On the side of the house, however, a single window lay open. He said not to look.
Yet when would be the next time a witch came around? A year? Ten years? How could one look hurt?
The desire to peek only grew, as Izuku kept looking longingly at the open window.
One glance. Less than a second.
Against his better judgement, he snuck over to the window and looked. Glass vials were flying back in place, as the witch poured their contents into another vial, working quickly between all of the contents of the floor.
He wasn’t saying anything. Izuku kept watching. The witch bent down to another spill on the floor, and uncapped his wand.
It was a pen. Izuku couldn’t look away as the man drew something next to the spill, and simply closed whatever he had drawn in a circle. It glowed faintly, as some broken shards and the liquid rose up and returned to their original state.
Despite the desire to look longer, he heard his mother returning from the garden, and spending any more time at the window could break his cover.
Magic is drawn, not cast with words.
The truth spread through Izuku like the plague, and his hands began to shake as he sat against the door once more. His thoughts went back to the picture book sitting upstairs, along with the pen– no, the wand– sitting next to it. If magic was drawn, did you even need to be a witch to use it?
“Well, someone looks deep in thought,” Inko commented. Izuku stayed silent.
A few more minutes passed before the witch finally opened the door, signaling for both of them to come inside. All the shattered glass pieces were pushed neatly into a corner, while the shelf had been placed back against the wall.
Along it were rows of vials filled with what Izuku assumed were spills on the floor a moment ago. Besides the broken glass, every other aspect of the mess was fixed.
“You’ve been such a help. Thank you, mister…?”
“Aizawa.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Aizawa,” Inko said, shaking his hand, “If you ever need anything from here, come visit us again! I honestly don’t know how I can repay you.”
“It’s fine,” Aizawa said, “Just doing my duty.”
He looked at Izuku, who was trying his best to avoid Aizawa’s gaze. Due to the sudden lack of questions from the kid, Aizawa left with a subtle goodbye.
Izuku nervously watched as the witch walked down the hill with no sign of coming back. He was expecting any second for Aizawa to accuse him of snooping around, and to turn him into a tiny creature that couldn’t draw any kind of magic.
“I’m glad you stayed, Izuku,” Inko said, putting one hand on his shoulder, “I thought you would’ve ran off with the first witch you saw.”
“I wouldn’t leave you here, mom.” Izuku replied, and hugged her. “I don’t want you to be alone. Ever!”
“Shall we have dinner then?”
His mom had already gone to bed, leaving Izuku to finally see if magic was really just art. If he learned magic without having to be a witch, both of their lives would get so much better, as magic could do anything.
He laid the picture book on his desk and uncapped the engraved pen. There was a small ink pot attached to the back of it, which he lay carefully next to the pad of paper he had prepared to draw the spells.
This time, instead of just looking at the pictures, Izuku looked at the symbols next to them. Every symbol had a circle around it, with smaller drawings in the middle and on the sides, providing a riddle for him to solve.
The first spell Izuku decided to copy was small, a circle in the top right of one of the pages. There was some kind of squiggle in the middle, surrounded by upside down Ts, and finally encased in the circle. He slowly put his pen to the paper and began to draw.
It was a slow process, but when he finally finished the wobbly circle, it began to glow.
“I actually did it,” Izuku said, watching as light particles emitted from the paper for a few seconds. He stood up from his chair. “Magic is just drawing!”
Adrenaline now pumping through his veins, ignoring the thought of whatever consequences of knowing the secret of magic he could face, he started to draw more spells littered throughout the book.
The sigils in the middle of each circle seemed to be associated with a certain type of magic, such as wind or fire (which was quickly put out in a panic). A neater circle made the spell last longer than a hastily drawn one, and the bigger the circle the more powerful the spell. He still had yet to figure out what the symbols surrounding the middle one did, which totally meant he should keep at it.
He practiced drawing the same spells over and over, getting better at circling the final spells at the end. Izuku had enjoyed creating art in the past. Now, instead of it remaining stuck on a piece of paper, his art could have a real impact in the world.
It could impress All Might. He remembered the claim that had gotten him to buy the book in the first place, the thing that had started his obsession with magic as a whole.
Izuku would just have to get better at magic, and one day meet his hero.
Yet the tiny circles he’d been practicing weren’t something to cause awe. It was hard to draw both a big and neat circle at the same time, plus including as many tiny symbols as possible to really make the spell stand out.
He flipped through the pages eagerly, finally landing on one where a detailed spell circle took up the entire page. Instead of eyeballing it, he put his piece of paper on top of the page.
Tracing the circle was way easier than what Izuku had been doing previously. The pen drew slowly over the picture, as he made sure each stroke was precise. Messing up a more complicated spell probably had worse consequences than a tiny fire.
With his trembling hand, he finished the circle in a single stroke.
Footsteps got louder and his door slammed open, as someone grabbed Izuku from behind. Some popping noise began to come from the finished spell, but he could barely look as the stranger rushed out the window, holding Izuku as they both were propelled in the sky.
A better look revealed that the stranger was the witch from earlier, Aizawa, who was currently looking at Izuku with a concerned expression upon his face.
“Kid, what spell did you draw?” He asked desperately, his hands tightening on Izuku’s shoulders.
“I-I don’t know, I just copied it from the book!”
“Izuku?”
Both of them looked down to see Inko coming out from the front door, holding a lantern and searching frantically at the entrance of the house. Izuku tried to lunge out of Aizawa’s grip, reaching for his mother.
He could only watch in silence as some crystal began spreading across the house like vines, and before another second passed, Inko was frozen in place, her body essentially turned into a human-shaped crystal, followed by the rest of the house encased in the stone.
A moment of silence passed before tears began streaming uncontrollably out of Izuku’s eyes. He called out again, and again, not believing the sight in front of him.
“Mom! Mom! Please… I didn’t mean to!”
“Of course you didn’t. That’s why the secret of magic exists,” Aizawa said flatly, “And anyone who learns that secret gets their memory erased. For good.”
Izuku immediately began pushing against him, trying to escape his grasp and theoretically go back to his mother.
“Ergh, just stay still, I don’t want to drop you,” Aizawa said, desperately trying to keep his grip on Izuku, “We’re both going to plummet to our death if you keep squirming!”
“But-but I don’t want to forget about what happened to mom! I’m not going to just leave her there!”
“If you remembered the sigil you drew, there might be a way to save her, yet– Ow!”
“I’ve memorized that picture book by heart; I could recognize that symbol again. Is it really possible to save her? From that?” Izuku asked, yet still not giving up his fight to fall out of Aizawa’s grasp.
Aizawa muttered something to himself about the book, then turned back to Izuku.
“If you could point out the book, and find which page you copied that spell from, there might be hope for your mother,” Aizawa stated, though his mind seemed to be somewhere else. Izuku looked up at the man with swollen, widened eyes.
“I’ll do it! Please, just don’t take my memories!” He pleaded, grabbing onto Aizawa’s cloak and burying his face into his chest.
Aizawa’s gaze softened for a second, before stating: “I know I’ll regret this, but Izuku… from this point on, you’ll be a witch.”