A Mission Gone Wrong

It started with a mission gone wrong.

U.A. had dispatched a few students—including Hoshiko—on a supervised field training exercise in a remote mountain village that had recently reported strange, localized tremors and emotional disturbances. The area was once home to a small shrine said to be tied to an ancient Quirk-wielder known only as The Weaver, a figure shrouded in local folklore—one who was rumored to shape reality through written word.

During the mission, a minor quake triggered a landslide, separating Hoshiko from her team. Injured but conscious, she stumbled into a forgotten forest path and eventually came upon a half-buried, crumbling temple cloaked in wisteria and moss. Inside, on a cracked stone altar, sat a single object untouched by time or decay: a book bound in soft, pale leather, warm to the touch despite the cold.

When she opened it, the pages were blank—at first. Then, with a single drop of her glowing nectar that accidentally fell onto the paper, delicate golden writing bloomed across the page:

“To wish with kindness is divine. To write it… is to remake the world.”

Curious—and dazed from the fall—Hoshiko scribbled something instinctively:

“I wish the pain would stop.”

The throbbing in her leg vanished instantly.

Later, reunited with her classmates, Hoshiko tucked the book away in her satchel, saying nothing. No one else had seen it. No one else had felt it respond.

Now, late at night in her dorm room, the book rests in a drawer, its pages pulsing faintly with soft gold light. She hasn’t told anyone. Not yet.

Because the more she writes in it, the more she realizes: it doesn’t just change things.

It understands why she wants them changed.

And that might be more dangerous than anything else.