The next morning, when Izuku walked into the common area of the dorms, he immediately noticed something was off. Most of Class 1-A was gathered around the TV, their usual chatter replaced with tense silence. Even Bakugo wasn't yelling—he was just watching.
Izuku stepped closer. "Good morning—"
"Midoriya," Ida cut in, adjusting his glasses as he motioned toward the screen. "You need to see this."
On the TV, international news footage showed a massive oil rig off the coast of the United States, completely engulfed in roaring flames. The fire wasn't normal—it towered high into the sky, thick black smoke choking the air.
"The blaze is far too intense for conventional response," the reporter was saying. "Even heroes with water-based Quirks have only managed to suppress it for seconds at a time before it reignites."
"They can't even get close," Kaminari muttered.
Izuku didn't say anything. He just watched.
Then—
BOOM
The entire building shook slightly as a shockwave of air blasted through the open windows.
By the time anyone turned, Izuku was gone.
Jiro blinked. "...Is he even allowed to just go to another country like that?"
Right then, Shota Aizawa walked into the room, hands in his pockets, looking as tired as ever.
"No," Aizawa said plainly. "He's not."
The class looked at him.
"If Midoriya wants to operate internationally, he's supposed to go through the World Heroes Association. They coordinate global hero activity." He paused. "That said… it's already too late now."
Everyone turned back to the screen.
Less than a minute later, the live broadcast cut to a helicopter view circling the burning rig.
And then—
A red-and-blue streak tore across the sky.
Izuku arrived.
He didn't hesitate. Hovering above the inferno, his eyes narrowed slightly as he took a breath—then exhaled.
A wave of freezing air burst from his lungs.
The flames didn't just weaken—they collapsed. Fire that had been raging uncontrollably moments before was instantly smothered under an overwhelming surge of cold. Ice spread across sections of the rig, and steam exploded outward as the heat was violently stripped away.
Within seconds…
The fire was gone.
The news crew fell silent.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
"...It's out," the reporter whispered.
Below, Coast Guard helicopters quickly moved in, landing on the helipad as crews rushed to evacuate the remaining workers. One by one, they were loaded aboard.
Back in the dorms, no one spoke.
They just stared.
"He… ended it that fast?" Sero said quietly.
But on the screen, things weren't over.
As the last worker was being helped up the stairs, the massive derrick above the rig began to tilt. The structure groaned loudly, weakened by the extreme heat and sudden cooling. Metal screamed as it started to collapse—right toward the helipad.
"Look out!" someone on the broadcast yelled.
Izuku moved instantly.
He shot downward, helping the final crew member onto the helicopter before rising up again—arms outstretched—as he caught the falling derrick.
The entire structure trembled in his grip.
From across the ocean, Class 1-A held their breath.
The helicopter lifted, struggling to gain distance.
"Come on…" Uraraka whispered.
Just as the aircraft cleared the danger zone—
A spark.
No one even saw where it came from.
But the gas lingering in the air ignited instantly.
The entire oil rig erupted in a massive explosion.
Fire and force swallowed everything.
"IZUKU!" several students shouted at once.
The screen filled with smoke and flames.
For a moment… there was nothing.
Then—
From within the burning cloud, a figure emerged.
Unharmed.
his shoulder was on fire but using his bare hand he patted the fire out before using his breath once again putting the fire from the explosion out before dropping once again and sealing the main pipe with his ice breath before flying off.
The broadcast cut back in with urgency, the tone far more serious than before.
"This is a developing international situation," the anchor said, posture rigid, voice controlled but tense. "We are now receiving confirmation that the unidentified individual who intervened in the oil rig disaster has been identified."
Footage replayed behind her—Izuku hovering above the destroyed structure, the explosion, the aftermath.
"The individual is being referred to by U.S. officials as Superman."
The name echoed across networks almost instantly.
"We repeat—Superman—a foreign hero believed to be from Japan has conducted unauthorized operations within United States territory."
The screen split into multiple panels: government buildings, live feeds from Washington, D.C., and reporters standing outside secured locations.
"What began as a rescue effort is now being treated as a potential international incident."
A different reporter took over, standing outside a federal building.
"Officials here are raising serious concerns. While lives were saved, the fact remains that a foreign hero entered U.S. airspace and engaged in large-scale operations without any coordination with American agencies or the World Heroes Association."
Behind him, officials moved quickly in and out of the building.
"Sources tell us there was no clearance, no request for assistance, and no communication prior to the intervention."
The footage shifted again—this time to a panel of analysts.
"This sets a dangerous precedent," one expert said. "If heroes can just cross borders and act independently, what's stopping others from doing the same under less… noble intentions?"
Another nodded. "Today it's a rescue. Tomorrow it could be interference in law enforcement, military operations, or worse."
Clips from around the world began playing.
In Europe:
"This raises serious legal questions about sovereignty and jurisdiction—"
In Asia:
"Japan has not yet released an official statement regarding the actions of this so-called Superman—"
In the U.S.:
"Was this an act of heroism… or a breach of national security?"
The broadcast returned to the main anchor.
"We are now getting reports that both the Hero Public Safety Commission in Japan and the World Heroes Association are holding emergency meetings."
The room was sealed tight.
No cameras. No press. No outsiders.
Only representatives.
A long circular table filled the center, each seat occupied by officials from different nations, their expressions ranging from controlled frustration to barely hidden anger. Screens hovered above the table, replaying the same footage on loop—the oil rig, the explosion, and the unmistakable figure rising from it.
No one needed an introduction.
Everyone already knew who they were looking at.
"Izuku Midoriya," one of the American representatives said flatly, hands clasped on the table. "Also known globally as Superman."
Silence followed.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Just tension.
"We are not here to debate his identity," another voice cut in from across the table. "We are here to address the fact that he entered U.S. territory without authorization and conducted an unsanctioned large-scale operation."
A screen shifted, displaying a timeline.
No clearance.No request.No coordination.
"And," the American official continued, "caused structural destabilization that led to a full destruction of the rig."
A representative from Japan finally spoke, calm but firm.
"He prevented mass casualties."
"No one is denying that," the U.S. delegate shot back. "But that does not excuse unilateral action. There are systems in place—protocols established by the World Heroes Association for a reason."
Another voice joined in, colder this time.
"If every nation's top hero decides they can act wherever they want, whenever they want, then those systems become meaningless."
A quiet murmur of agreement spread.
"Today it was your hero," someone said, glancing toward the Japanese side. "Tomorrow it could be someone else. Less predictable. Less controlled."
The screen changed again—this time showing Izuku hovering above the explosion.
Unharmed.
Untouched.
Watching.
"That," one of the European representatives said slowly, "is exactly the problem."
All eyes stayed on the image.
"He does not operate within the same limits as other heroes. Not politically. Not physically. And now… not geographically."
Another pause.
"He didn't ask."
At the far end of the table, a senior official from the World Heroes Association leaned forward, fingers interlocked.
"We need to be clear about what this is," they said.
"This is not just a breach of protocol."
The screen zoomed in slightly on Izuku's face.
"This is a demonstration."
The word hung in the air.
The Japanese representative's expression hardened slightly.
"Midoriya acted to save lives. That is the foundation of hero society."
"And yet," the American official replied immediately, "he ignored every international law governing that society."
Neither side backed down.
Another screen appeared—live reports, headlines, public reactions.
SUPERHERO OR GLOBAL THREAT?WHO POLICES SUPERMAN?BORDERS MEAN NOTHING NOW?
The room felt heavier.
"This is already spiraling," someone muttered.
"It's not just about what he did," another added. "It's about what the world just saw."
All eyes returned to the frozen image of Izuku in the sky.
"He can go anywhere," the European delegate said quietly.
"No one can stop him."
While Izuku flew back across the ocean, the wind rushing past him in a steady roar, a call came through his communicator.
"Ah, there you are, my boy," said Nezu, his voice as calm and composed as ever—but there was an edge to it this time.
Izuku slowed slightly in the air. "Nezu… I'm guessing you saw."
"I did," Nezu replied. "As did the rest of the world."
There was a brief pause before he continued.
"The situation has escalated beyond a simple rescue. News outlets across multiple countries have already identified you—by name and… by title."
Izuku's expression tightened. "Superman."
"Yes," Nezu said. "And the narrative is shifting rapidly. While many are calling you a hero, governments are framing this as an unauthorized international intervention."
Izuku closed his eyes for a moment, still flying.
"They're saying I caused an international incident, aren't they?"
Nezu didn't sugarcoat it.
"Yes."
Another pause.
"The United States has raised concerns about sovereignty violations. Several nations are backing them. The World Heroes Association has already begun emergency discussions, and the Hero Public Safety Commission is under pressure to respond."
Izuku exhaled slowly.
"I just… saw people who were going to die."
"I know," Nezu said, softer now. "And for what it's worth, I agree with your decision."
Izuku's eyes opened slightly.
"But agreement," Nezu continued, "does not prevent consequences."
That landed.
Izuku was quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"Can you set up a conference?" he asked. "Something official. If the world's watching, then I'll explain it myself."
Nezu hummed thoughtfully.
"Yes… that would be the most effective approach at this point. If you remain silent, others will define your actions for you."
"Then I don't want that," Izuku said firmly.
"Very well," Nezu replied. "I'll coordinate with the necessary parties. Give me some time."
There was a slight pause before Nezu added, more quietly:
"And Izuku… you're not alone in this. I am on your side."
For the first time since the incident, some of the tension in Izuku's chest eased.
"…Thank you."
The line disconnected.
Izuku didn't rush back.
For once, he slowed his flight, giving Nezu time to work—and giving himself time to think.
The sky stretched endlessly around him, calm in a way the world below wasn't.
All I wanted to do was save them…
The news had been clear. Heroes couldn't get close. People were trapped.
If I didn't go… they would've died.
But now—
Governments arguing.
Organizations scrambling.
His name spreading across the world again… not just as a symbol, but as a problem.
Izuku clenched his fist slightly as he flew.
Did I make things worse…?
When he finally reached Japan, he didn't go back to the dorms.
Instead, he went home.
His father stood by the fence, just as he often did, looking out over the fields as the wind rolled through them.
Hisashi Midoriya didn't turn right away.
He already knew.
"You saw the news," Izuku said quietly as he landed.
Hisashi nodded once. "Hard not to."
The air between them carried the weight of everything happening far beyond that quiet field.
"They're saying I crossed into restricted territory," Izuku continued. "That I violated sovereignty. That I made things worse."
Hisashi finally turned, studying him carefully.
"They're not just saying it," he said. "They're reacting to it."
Izuku's jaw tightened. "People are angry. Governments are angry. They're acting like I just ignored the entire world."
There was a pause.
Then, more quietly—
"Did I?"
The question lingered.
Then Izuku asked, softer now:
"Should I have… not helped?"
That made Hisashi move.
He stepped forward, boots pressing into the gravel, and placed a hand on Izuku's shoulder.
"Let me ask you something," he said. "Those people out there—what would've happened if you didn't go?"
Izuku didn't hesitate.
"They would've died."
Hisashi nodded. "Then there's your answer."
Izuku looked away slightly. "But what if helping causes something bigger? What if this… spirals?"
Hisashi exhaled slowly, glancing out over the fields.
"Doing the right thing doesn't always come clean," he said. "Sometimes it makes a mess. Sometimes people don't thank you—they question you."
He looked back at him.
"But right and wrong isn't decided by how comfortable it makes everyone else."
Izuku frowned slightly. "Then how do I decide?"
Hisashi gave a faint, almost tired smile.
"You remember who you are."
Izuku stayed silent.
"You're not a government tool," Hisashi continued. "You're not owned by borders. You're someone who can reach people no one else can."
The wind picked up, rustling through the crops.
"But power like yours…" he added more quietly, "it scares people. And when people get scared, they try to control what they don't understand."
Izuku's eyes dropped.
"I don't want to make things worse."
Hisashi squeezed his shoulder.
"You will, sometimes," he said plainly. "That's part of acting at this level. The difference is—you care enough to question it."
Izuku let out a slow breath.
"And those people?" Hisashi added.
Izuku looked up.
"They're alive," Hisashi said. "That matters.
Izuku didn't stay long after that.
The conversation with his father lingered in his mind, steadying him, but not softening the reality of what was waiting. The world hadn't slowed down just because he had. If anything, it had only gotten louder.
So he took off again.
The moment his feet left the ground, he accelerated—his form blurring into streaks of red and blue against the sky as he shot toward U.A. High. This time, there was no hesitation in his movement. No uncertainty in direction. Only purpose.
By the time he reached the campus, preparations were already underway.
The grounds of U.A. had been locked down tighter than ever. hero teams moved with precision, barriers set, media kept at a controlled distance. Satellite trucks lined the outer perimeter, their signals broadcasting globally. Every major network had eyes on this.
Nezu had met Izuku on the roof before silently leading him through UA's halls toward the auditorium where the practical exam briefing had once been held months ago. Back then the room had been filled with nervous students dreaming about becoming heroes.
Tonight it was filled with reporters from across the world.
There was only one entrance into the room, meaning every camera turned toward Izuku the moment he stepped inside. The noise of whispered conversations filled the auditorium as flashes of light bounced across the walls. Some reporters spoke in languages Izuku still hadn't learned while others quietly questioned if he really was only a first-year student. Izuku had always known he was taller and broader than most people his age, but hearing grown adults mistake him for an experienced pro hero still felt strange.
That thought disappeared quickly as he reached the stage.
The moment Izuku stepped behind the podium the entire room fell silent. Even the cameras seemed quieter somehow. Nezu stopped near the back wall, watching carefully as Izuku took one slow breath before speaking.
"I know why all of you are here," Izuku began calmly. "You want me to explain why I left Japan and intervened in the United States during the oil rig disaster. And while I'm sure many of you expect an apology… I'm not going to give one."
A wave of murmurs spread through the crowd before quickly dying again.
"The heroes already there were unable to reach the trapped workers. Lives were at stake, so I stepped in. That's the truth."
Izuku's expression hardened slightly.
"There's also something the public doesn't know yet. Over the last week, my super hearing has evolved significantly. I can now hear cries for help from the other side of the planet."
That statement hit the room harder than anything else he had said so far.
The reporters immediately began whispering again, some staring at him in disbelief while others rapidly wrote notes down. Izuku ignored all of it and continued.
"I try to ignore most of those voices," he admitted quietly. "Because I trust heroes around the world to save people before I ever need to arrive. I'm not trying to interfere with anyone. I'm not trying to undermine governments or make political statements."
His eyes swept across the room.
"But when I heard what was happening on that oil rig… it sounded like no one was going to make it in time."
The silence returned instantly.
"So yes," Izuku said firmly, "I crossed borders. And if countries are upset about that, then I understand. But when lives are in danger, I will always choose to save people first."
The pressure in the room felt heavier now, every reporter hanging onto his words.
"If governments around the world want to issue me hero licenses," Izuku continued, "then maybe that solves the legal side of this situation. But license or not… if people need help, I'm going to be there."
In the teacher's lounge, All Might sat watching the interview with a proud smile on his face. As he listened to Izuku speak, he couldn't help but think that the boy was truly beginning to sound like a Symbol of Peace. Even so, All Might still wasn't sure he agreed with the way Izuku was going about things, knowing how dangerous the world could become if heroes started ignoring borders and governments.
Back in the auditorium, the reporters continued throwing questions at Izuku until he suddenly pointed toward a man near the middle row. The man stood up, introducing himself as a reporter from CNN America, a notepad clutched tightly in his hand. "If you can hear cries for help across the planet," he asked carefully, "then where exactly do you draw the line? Are you saying you'll involve yourself in every international disaster regardless of local law?"
Izuku let out a tired sigh before answering. "Have you people been paying attention at all?" he asked bluntly, though his tone wasn't angry. "I already said that if a hero can handle the situation, then I won't interfere. I trust heroes around the world to do their jobs, but if nobody can make it in time, then I'll step in. I'll do whatever it takes to save lives, even if that means crossing a border into another country." The room fell silent at his answer, and the CNN reporter slowly sat back down without another word.
A female reporter soon stood up and introduced herself as a journalist from France 24. "And what happens when a government tells you not to interfere," she asked, "but innocent people are still in danger?" Izuku stared at her for a moment as the tension in the room grew heavy. "Oh my god, it's like none of you are listening to what I'm saying," Izuku replied, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "If a government tells me not to intervene, but people are still going to die, then I'll ignore them and save those people. That's all I want to do with my life."
He leaned back slightly before continuing. "All of this could be solved with a cheap piece of plastic saying I'm allowed to do hero work wherever I happen to be. The world's upside down right now just because I ignored borders and saved lives. And if governments really wanted to punish me for that, they would've already done it." Before he could continue, Izuku suddenly turned his head toward the back corner of the room. Using his X-ray vision, he looked far beyond the walls and several blocks away, spotting a group of villains fighting the police. Without warning, Izuku vanished from the stage in a burst of red and blue, leaving the stunned reporters alone with Nezu.
Nezu calmly walked up to the microphone with his usual smile and adjusted his tie. "Well, I believe that concludes today's interview," he said politely, but before anyone could stand up, another reporter quickly raised his hand. Introducing himself as a journalist from Nile News in Egypt, he asked Nezu what his opinion on the matter was. Nezu's smile widened slightly. "Personally," he replied, "I agree with young Midoriya. A hero's purpose is to save lives first and worry about politics later." The room instantly erupted into murmurs at his response.
Meanwhile, Izuku arrived at the scene in seconds, hovering above the street as police officers kept two villains surrounded at gunpoint. Every time an officer tried to move in, the pair lashed out violently, forcing everyone back. One of the villains, a tall man with blade-like arms, laughed loudly. "Name's Razoredge!" he shouted proudly before pointing one of his knife-like fingers at the officers. Beside him stood a shorter man with flames swirling around his arms. "And I'm Inferno Burn!" the second villain yelled as fire burst from his palms.
Floating down from the sky, Izuku landed between the police and the villains before slowly walking toward them. "There's nowhere to go now," Izuku said calmly. "I'm here, so there's nothing you can possibly do. Surrender peacefully, and I'm sure the officers can work something out. I really don't want to fight you." Razoredge scoffed while Inferno Burn cracked his knuckles. "Screw you," Razoredge spat. "You don't get to tell us what to do."
The two villains charged him instantly. Razoredge swung one of his knife-arms directly at Izuku's neck, but the blade couldn't even cut through the fabric of his costume. "Move left!" Inferno Burn shouted before unleashing a massive blast of flames that swallowed Izuku completely. Several officers flinched, but before the fire could clear, Izuku blurred forward in a streak of red and blue and appeared behind Inferno Burn, knocking him unconscious with a clean chop to the neck. Panic spread across Razoredge's face as he turned and ran. Izuku flew after him effortlessly, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and carrying him back toward the police. "Let me go, you damn hero!" Razoredge screamed while thrashing wildly. "I'll gut you! I swear I'll kill you!" Izuku ignored every word as he calmly lowered the struggling villain in front of the officers.
Izuku returned to U.A., landing gently outside the school building. As he walked toward the entrance, he spotted Nezu standing nearby and asked what Class 1-A had been up to. Nezu explained that now that everyone except Bakugo and Todoroki had earned their provisional hero licenses, the class was mostly doing basic training and reaching out to U.A.-approved hero agencies to begin their work studies.
"I see, so I'm not missing much. Well, can I take over one of the conference rooms? I've been so busy lately that I haven't done any paperwork since I started working as a hero. It shouldn't take long... maybe an hour at most." Nezu didn't mind and told him he could use one, just as long as he let him know which room so nobody would interrupt him.
A little while later, Kirishima and Sero spotted Izuku entering one of the conference rooms and decided to follow him. The moment they opened the door, both of them froze. Papers were flying through the air in organized stacks as Izuku blurred around the room in streaks of red and blue, using his super speed to complete mountains of paperwork in seconds. Pens moved so fast they looked like they were floating on their own.
Izuku suddenly stopped, noticing them standing there. "Hey guys, how's the search for hero work studies going?" Sero shrugged and admitted he still hadn't found one yet, while Kirishima grinned. "A third-year student had me apply to Fat Gum's agency, so that's where I'll be working for now. I'm really excited, man." Izuku smiled and congratulated him before asking if they needed anything. Sero shook his head while Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually... if you're not busy, could you help me train my Hardening Quirk? I need to get used to taking heavier hits. I'd ask Bakugo, but he's stuck doing those remedial courses." Izuku smiled. "Sure thing. Give me thirty minutes to finish this paperwork, and I'll meet you at Gym Gamma."
When Izuku arrived at Gym Gamma, he saw his classmates training hard across the massive arena. He greeted Shota Aizawa and Cementoss, who were standing off to the side observing everyone. Aizawa looked over at him with his usual tired expression and asked, "What are you doing here?" Izuku rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Kirishima asked me to help improve his Hardening since Bakugo is doing his remedial course for his hero license."
Izuku floated into the training area, waving to everyone as he passed by. He caught pieces of conversations from some of his classmates, many of them talking about how he had handled the press during his interview earlier. Eventually, he landed beside Ectoplasm and looked over at Kirishima with a grin. "Hey man, you ready?" In response, Kirishima immediately activated his Hardening, his skin turning rough and stone-like as he struck a determined pose.
Izuku pulled his fist back and smiled nervously. "I'll start light and slowly increase the strength." But the instant his punch connected, Kirishima's eyes widened. A shockwave blasted through Gym Gamma as Kirishima was launched like a cannonball, tearing through the air before crashing into the side of one of Cementoss' improvised mountains. Cracks spread through the structure as chunks of concrete rained down.
Izuku's face immediately turned pale. "WAIT—KIRISHIMA!" He blurred forward in a red-and-blue streak and skidded to a stop beside the crater. Kneeling down, he frantically apologized while using his enhanced vision to scan Kirishima for injuries. After a few tense seconds, he let out a relieved breath. No broken bones... though Kirishima definitely looked like he had just been hit by a truck.
Izuku quickly apologized, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry, man. I thought you could handle that level of strength already." Kirishima slowly pushed himself out of the crater on shaky legs before laughing. "It's all good, bro... but maybe we save punches like that for way later." The class burst into laughter while even Aizawa looked mildly impressed by the damage.
For the next hour, Izuku carefully trained with Eijiro Kirishima, slowly increasing the power behind each strike. Kirishima's Hardening became tougher with every hit, and eventually he was tanking blows that created small shockwaves across Gym Gamma. Sweat dripped down Kirishima's face, but he kept getting back up each time with a grin, determined to push his Quirk further.
Suddenly, Izuku froze mid-conversation, his enhanced hearing catching distant screams and police sirens from several blocks away. Without even saying a word, he vanished from Gym Gamma in a blur of red and blue, sending a gust of wind across the training field. Kirishima watched the entrance for a moment before sighing with a smile. "Man... that guy's so manly. But does he ever actually rest?"
Meanwhile, Izuku had already reached the scene of a robbery involving a small group of villains speeding away in a tiny K-truck. One of the villains was somehow carrying the entire convenience store counter in the back of the truck while the others shouted at him to hold on tighter. In an instant, Izuku blurred in front of the vehicle and casually lifted it off the ground, causing the villain in the truck bed to lose his balance and tumble out.
Izuku gave the truck a small shake, making the two villains inside the cab yelp before falling out onto the pavement. Setting the truck down gently, Izuku dropped into a fighting stance, only for all three criminals to immediately throw their hands up in surrender. As they waited for the police to arrive, the driver angrily yelled at the larger villain. "I thought you said this guy was spotted flying into U.A.! How did he get here so fast?!"
Izuku awkwardly coughed into his fist before replying, "Uh... you do know I can fly fast, right? Like... really fast."
Once the police arrived and took the villains away, Izuku picked up the small K-truck and carefully moved it to the side of the road so it wouldn't block traffic. He then grabbed the slightly damaged store counter and walked toward the corner store. Stepping through the shattered front entrance, he awkwardly smiled at the owner and set the counter back in place. "Sorry about this. I'll pay for the damages," he said, handing the man a card. "My parents handle the money I make as a pro hero, so you can contact them."
The owner let out a relieved breath and thanked him repeatedly. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that." Then his expression suddenly brightened. "Actually... would you mind taking a picture and signing something? Ever since the Kamino incident, my son has become a huge fan." Izuku immediately smiled and agreed, signing a few items and taking a picture before waving goodbye and taking off into the air.
As he flew through Musutafu, Kelex suddenly spoke up. "Incoming call from Nezu." Izuku stopped midair and glanced at his watch as Nezu's voice came through. "Midoriya, if you're not busy, I just received a call from the American branch of the HPSC. With approval from the President of the United States, they want to grant you a hero license that would legally allow you to operate there. It would also be a major public event, considering you'd be the first hero to receive something like this." Izuku's eyes widened before a huge smile spread across his face. "America?! Where exactly? I'll be there!" As the call ended, excitement ran through him. If one country approved this, others might follow.
Izuku spent the rest of the day patrolling Musutafu while elsewhere, Mirio was conducting a solo patrol for Sir Nighteye's agency. As Mirio walked through a quiet street, a small child wrapped in bandages suddenly bumped into him. Kneeling down, he immediately noticed that both her arms and legs were covered in bandages, and when he reached out, he felt her trembling violently. Just then, a calm male voice echoed from the alley. "You should be more careful. We don't want to cause trouble for the hero."
Mirio immediately recognized the man as Kai Chisaki, leader of the Shie Hassaikai. His instincts screamed that something was wrong, and he moved the girl behind him. Kai calmly adjusted his gloves and spoke again. "Please forgive my daughter, hero. I don't know what to do with her anymore. She's always playing around and getting hurt." The girl looked up at Mirio with terrified eyes, silently begging for help, but after Kai gave a subtle glance toward her, her expression changed instantly. "I-I'm okay..." she whispered. As Kai led her away into the alley, Mirio stood frozen for only a second before turning and sprinting toward the agency while dialing Nighteye. The moment he answered, Mirio spoke urgently. "Sir... something's wrong."