The First Kilometer (Chapter 1)

The park buzzed with the hum of cicadas and the crunch of sneakers against gravel. Dawn was just breaking, painting the sky a soft orange. Izuku ran in small circles, his steps quick and precise, as if dodging invisible villains. Sweat plastered his bangs to his forehead, but his eyes gleamed with an intensity that seemed to ignite the air.

“Come on, Mom! Right foot, left foot, it’s not rocket science!” he shouted, glancing back at the figure stumbling a few meters behind.

Inko Midoriya, wrapped in an oversized sweatshirt and with a face red as a tomato, panted with every step. Her new, garish pink sneakers—screaming “supermarket deal”—seemed to fight the gravel.

“This… isn’t… running!” she gasped, stopping to brace her hands on her knees. “It’s torture! My lungs are on strike!”

Izuku skidded to a halt, sliding on the gravel, and turned around. His hands planted on his hips, mimicking a coach from a motivational video.

“Lungs don’t go on strike, Mom. They adapt!” He stepped closer, pointing at his chest like it was a treasure map. “Diaphragmatic breathing: inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Control the rhythm, or you’ll faint before the kilometer!”

Inko looked up, squinting. Sweat dripped from her chin, but a spark of defiance flashed in her eyes.

“Faint? Ha!” She straightened, though her body wobbled like jelly. “I won’t faint in front of my son! That’d be humiliating!”

“That’s the spirit!” Izuku jumped, punching the air. “Use that anger! Picture the path as Dad, and every step’s a punch to his deadbeat face!”

“Izuku!” Inko let out a choked laugh, scandalized but amused. She lurched forward, resuming a clumsy jog. “That’s cruel! Poor Hisashi!”

“Poor?” Izuku ran beside her, keeping a slow pace to stay close. “He left us, Mom! You’re here, sweating, fighting! That’s heroism!”

Inko stumbled, but Izuku caught her by the elbow before she fell. His fingers, firm yet gentle, steadied her. She looked at him, panting, and for a moment, the park faded. No cicadas, no gravel, no sticky sweat. Just her son, with those green eyes burning like they could set the world ablaze.

“You…” Inko swallowed, standing taller. “Where’d you get all that fire, Izuku? Yesterday, you were my little boy, babbling about All Might. Now you’re… what? Possessed by a gym spirit?”

Izuku laughed, letting go to point at his chest. “Not a spirit. A mission!” His gaze drifted to the horizon, as if seeing beyond the trees. “Yesterday, I saw Mt. Lady. Not just her strength, Mom. Her… presence. Like the world revolved around her! I want that. I want to be someone who makes the world spin.”

Inko blinked, wiping sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. “Mt. Lady, huh?” Her tone was half-curious, half-teasing. “Is it her strength or… other things?” She gestured vaguely at her own chest, raising an eyebrow.

“Mom!” Izuku choked, his cheeks flaring like beacons. He tripped over a pebble and nearly fell. “It’s not that! Well… not just that! It’s… the whole package! Strength, confidence, impact! I want to make an impact!”

Inko let out a genuine giggle that echoed in the empty park. “Oh, honey, you’re already making an impact.” She pointed at her flushed, sweaty face. “Look at me. I’m running. Me. The couch queen! That’s impact.”

Izuku looked at her, his fervor softening for a moment. A small, almost shy smile crossed his face. “That’s just the start, Mom.” He stepped back, gesturing dramatically at the path. “One more kilometer. Together, you and me. Ready?”

Inko groaned, but her lips curved into a determined grimace. “If I die, I’ll blame you in my will.”

“Deal.” Izuku winked, jogging backward to keep her in sight. “Let’s go, hero! The world doesn’t spin on its own!”

As Inko resumed her jog, each step a small rebellion against her protesting body, she felt something she hadn’t in years: lightness. Not in her legs, which screamed in protest, but in her chest. Her son was pulling her forward, and for the first time in a long time, she wanted to follow.