"Thank you, Big Brother!"
The little girl chirped, waving frantically, her sleeves flapping like the wings of a little bird. Her delight shimmered through the morning air, drifting with sakura petals and the low buzz of early traffic.
Izuku waved back with a smile as she rounded the corner toward Tatooin Elementary.
"Aww, she was so adorable!" Nana's voice rang bright in his mind.
"And I DEFINITELY heard cooing from our resident 'Daredevil' boxing champion." The grin was audible even without seeing her face.
Evidently, she couldn't let Banjo's claim from last night, about having the best side career, pass unchallenged.
"I was NOT cooing, ya hear?!" Banjo hollered in protest.
Izuku sighed, tuning out the familiar bickering.
One of the oldest, strongest Quirks in history came with many benefits.
And a few… add-ons.
But it was fine.
Mostly.
He turned, proceeding toward the station through the braided noises of the morning crowd and the scent of roasted coffee and toasted milk bread.
Then—
"Ahh! Huhh... huhh."
A quiet gasp, pitching into whimpers.
Izuku quickened his pace, cutting through the crowd and reaching an alley's entrance.
Four boys. Three standing, one slumped against the wall. One standing boy's finger glowed neon.
A Mop of grass with wilted flowers growing out of the slumped figure's scalp.
Black jackets on all of them. Middle schoolers, maybe first-years.
The crowd at the alley's far end flowed past, heedless.
Before Nana's teeth-click finished, before Banjo could curse, before En's disappointed sigh fully formed—
Izuku's hand sparked green, swatting the air.
Woosh!
Compressed air roared through the alley.
Boxes scattered. Cans clattered. The three boys toppled backward.
"Aggh!"
"Wha—"
The gust buffeted the crowd beyond.
"What the hell?!"
"Where'd that wind come from?!"
The near-side crowd turned, drawn by the commotion.
"Hey, what's happening there?"
"What's the ruckus?"
Nobody had noticed the source.
The three boys scrambled up and ran.
The slumped boy stared at the space where his tormentors had been, then at his own trembling hands.
Izuku didn't linger. He slipped back into the flow of the street and continued on his way.
Fifty steps. Maybe less. The alley already felt distant.
When he reached the station stairs, Yoichi-san's calm voice broke the silence.
"That was well handled, Izuku."
He didn't respond.
He climbed, watching the green sparks dim between his fingers.
The way he had acted... instantly... instinctively...
Was it because of the power he now wielded?
To immediately choose 'this' to solve the problem?
Was that right?
Maybe it was the resolution carried over from the entrance exam.
Or maybe…
The attire.
Black jackets. Aldera's uniform.
His fist clenched before he realized it.
He hadn't stepped foot near those gates since the station incident.
Mom had insisted on collecting the transfer certificate herself.
"You don't need to see that place again," she'd said, her voice tight with something Izuku didn't want to name. "Not ever."
Inui-san had agreed. Surprisingly gently, given the hero's fearsome reputation.
"Trauma clings to places," the counselor had said. "No need to walk back into those halls when your path leads elsewhere."
In their few sessions, Izuku had opened up slightly to the growling pro hero.
About Aldera... The ostracization.... The belittlement... The condonement of it all.
Though he hadn't gone into particulars. Hadn't dug into the worst of it. Hadn't... named names.
Mom had mentioned having a chat with Kacchan on her visit to Aldera. Her tone suggested there was more to the 'chat', but she hadn't offered any details.
And he hadn't asked.
Reaching the ticket gates, Izuku swiped his student pass and pushed through the barrier, memories of yesterday afternoon flickering through his mind.
---
"The spiky-haired boy. Bakugo."
Uraraka-san murmured, cutely miming small explosions in the air.
Izuku smiled faintly at her gestures; the way she made Kacchan's explosions look almost cute. Almost harmless.
"Why did he call you that?... Deku?"
The smile faltered at that word coming from her mouth.
Deku.
His shoulders tightened reflexively.
Uraraka-san's eyes, usually so bright, searched his face with something quieter. "Is he…" she hesitated, voice softening. "…your bully?"
The courtyard bustled around them. Students streamed toward the gates in clusters, their laughter and chatter a constant hum. The dissonance of endless traffic below the plateau snagged on his senses.
"Izuku."
Yoichi-san's whisper muted the chaos for a moment. Gentle, not pushy, just… present. An assurance that he wasn't alone.
The First Wielder had hinted before, at seeing his memories. But like now, he didn't push.
The other vestiges remained silent too.
But, like always, they were here.
Izuku's pace quickened as they crossed the courtyard toward the gates. He didn't mean to. His legs just... moved.
Uraraka-san and Iida-san followed without question, their footsteps matching his.
Just beyond the main gate, he stopped.
His hand curled against his thigh.
"Ka-Kacchan is... a childhood friend." The words came out wrong. Stiff. Like reading from a script he'd never been given.
He turned, forcing himself to meet their eyes, Uraraka-san's worried, Iida-san's confused.
His... friends.
The word still felt foreign, but...
He tried again.
"No... he was a childhood friend. Now he... he..."
The sentence died.
How could he explain it?
He didn't want to label it. Even after admitting those experiences as bullying in his counseling sessions. Even knowing, logically, what it was.
He just... couldn't.
The word 'bully' felt too sharp. Too final. Like once he said it, something would close forever—some door he wasn't ready to seal.
Kacchan was more complicated than that... Less complicated? Izuku didn't have the words for it. Didn't know if he ever would.
"I, uh—"
Before he could force something, anything, out, Uraraka-san stepped forward.
Her hand closed gently around his forearm. Pinky up.
He froze.
She didn't squeeze. Didn't pull. Just held on, steady and warm, her eyes searching his.
"It's okay, Midoriya-kun."
Her voice was soft. Understanding. Comforting.
"You don't have to explain everything right now."
Izuku's throat tightened.
She knew. About his quirklessness, or former quirklessness. Not everything, but enough. Enough to connect the dots with "Deku" and the pain in between.
After a moment, she let go, rubbing the back of her head. Her cheeks flushed pink.
"S-sorry. I didn't mean to just—grab you like that. I just—" She laughed, small and embarrassed. "I'm not good with words sometimes."
Izuku's ears burned. He coughed, twice, then drew a deep breath.
"Deku is supposed to mean 'useless.' Like... a wooden doll…" It came out flatly, as a matter of fact. He glanced at Iida-san. "…I'm a late bloomer, you see... Very late."
That was the cover story. The sanitized version that explained everything and nothing.
"But I still wanted to be a hero."
He swallowed.
"But... others around me... they didn't appreciate it. And they made sure I knew it."
His voice was quiet. Far steadier than expected.
"Kacchan—he led the way in that."
Iida-san's expression hardened. His hand sliced through the air in a chopping motion. "That is unforgivable behavior! From all involved!"
The intensity in his voice made Izuku blink.
Uraraka-san nodded firmly, her jaw tight. "That's just not right."
Izuku blinked at their reactions. Anger in Iida-san's voice. Fire in Uraraka-san's eyes.
No pity or awkwardness.
Just outrage... for him.
"Ah, Midoriya-san."
They turned at the voice.
Shoji-san approached, steps measured, multiple arms shifting as if weighing whether to intrude.
"Shoji-san," Izuku managed.
"We didn't have much time to talk." Shōji-san's voice was quiet, originating from the mouth forming on one of his hands.
"I wanted to thank you again. Properly. For the station." He glanced at Uraraka-san and Iida-san. Gaze lingering on the latter with something akin to recognition. "I assumed your friends already know about your heroism."
Uraraka-san's head tilted. "Station?"
Iida-san went very still, his eyes sharpening behind his glasses.
Izuku's chest tightened.
Shoji-san's primary eyes flicked between them, a silent question: 'Didn't they know?'
His mind spun.
Iida-san knew something. He'd hinted during training at Gunhead's dojo, small comments, careful avoidance of certain topics.
Tensei-san had probably told him pieces. But how much? And did Iida-san connect those pieces to him?
And Uraraka-san...
If Shoji-san said too much now—
Izuku's fingers twitched.
It wasn't about the attention. Well, it wasn, partly.
Others had worked hard to bury his identity, keeping him safe from outside scrutiny.
But deeper than that, quieter than that...
He did not want them to be afraid of him.
The vortex had been massive. Destructive. Uncontrolled. Power that could tear through buildings and swallow streets whole.
The kind of power that inspires fear in others.
"I, uh—" Izuku started, but his voice cracked.
He swallowed. Tried again.
"Careful, Nine." En's voice murmured. "Choose your words."
But before he could choose anything—
"Revelry in the dark!"
The dramatic proclamation cut through the tension like a stage curtain yanked aside.
Fumikage Tokoyami emerged from the school entrance, Dark Shadow coiled around his shoulders like a living cape.
"Fumi! Finally!" Dark Shadow-san chirped. "Took you long enough to find them!"
"Silence, fiend," Tokoyami-san muttered, but there was no heat in it.
He approached the group, nodding at each in turn.
The moment fractured. Tension diffused as the duo's presence drew attention.
"We were discussing travel routes," Tokoyami-san said smoothly. "The most efficient path to avoid evening crowds."
"We were NOT," Dark Shadow-san protested. "You just wanted an excuse to—"
"Silence."
Uraraka-san laughed, the sound breaking the last of the awkwardness. "Do you two always bicker like this?"
"Yes."
"No."
"See? He's lying already."
Even Iida-san's stern expression softened slightly, though his gaze lingered on Izuku a moment longer than necessary.
Shoji-san stepped back, inclining his head slightly toward Izuku. The message was clear: 'Later'.
Izuku exhaled softly, nodding in return.
Then—
Vrrooo.
A sleek black limousine pulled smoothly to the curb, its polished surface reflecting the late afternoon sun.
A man in a black coat stepped out and opened the rear door.
Momo Yaoyorozu approached it, then turning and offering a polite bow. "Good afternoon, everyone. I hope you all have a pleasant evening."
"Ah!" Uraraka-san waved, her earlier tension melting entirely. "You too!"
"Travel safely!" Iida-san added, bowing in return with mechanical precision.
Izuku gave a small wave. Tokoyami-san nodded solemnly, Dark Shadow peering over his shoulder, while Shoji-san bowed his head in silence.
Her smile flickered, just briefly, with something warm beneath the formality. Then she slipped into the limousine.
The vehicle pulled away.
"She's quite polite," Nana murmured. "But lonely, I think."
Izuku blinked at the observation, but didn't have time to dwell.
"She's rich!" Dark Shadow-san exclaimed, as if discovering something profound.
Everyone turned to stare.
"What?" the shadow huffed. "I'm just saying!"
"We noticed," Tokoyami-san said flatly.
Dark Shadow-san let out a few obviously fake coughs. "Ah, yes! The apprehension test! Quite the doozy, wasn't it?"
The obvious topic change worked anyway.
"Yes! To use deception like that! UA is truly different!" Iida-san proclaimed seriously.
Tokoyami-san and Shoji-san nodded along.
As they started discussing the Quirk Apprehension Test, making their way toward the station, Uraraka-san's eyes lingered on the distant black limousine.
Then she turned to Izuku, her expression turning thoughtful, searching.
"You know," she said slowly, "when I first heard it... Deku..."
Izuku tensed.
She caught it, didn't flinch, didn't look away.
"I thought it sounded kind of cool."
He blinked. "...What?"
Her smile bloomed, bright and utterly genuine. "Like a shortening of Dekiru. Like, you know—'You can do it!'"
She skipped ahead to join the group, leaving him standing there.
He stared after her for a moment.
"Deku," he whispered, testing the word.
It didn't cut as deeply. Not when she said it.
He met Uraraka-san's eyes. She was looking back, beckoning him with a wave, and smiled slightly.
"Maybe," he said quietly to himself. "I... maybe."
As they continued toward the station, Iida-san lamenting his loss in 50-meter dash and distance run, Tokoyami-san listening in quiet patience while Dark Shadow-san slipped in the occasional quip, Shoji-san keeping pace beside them in easy silence, Izuku felt something settle into place.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn't walking alone.
---
Screech!
The grind of metal on rail snapped him out of his thoughts.
Izuku blinked. The bustling platform, snapping into focus. Commuters pressing toward the yellow line. An automated announcement droning overhead.
Whir-clank!
The train pulled in fully with a final metallic groan.
Ding... shhh!
The doors glided open with a cheerful chime, passengers spilling out in curling waves.
Izuku stepped aside as they passed, before moving forward with the flow.
He slipped inside just as the warning chime sounded, doors sliding shut behind him.
The car was crowded: the faintest traces of tobacco smoke clinging to wool, floral wash soaked into cotton, and sweet chemical tang of hair wax drifting to his senses.
He found a spot near the doors, grabbing an overhead strap as the carriage lurched into motion, the platform blurring past outside.
The ride was short. The vestiges had been silent since his own silence on the station stairs.
A few people glanced his way, likely because of the U.A. uniform. One senior in a college blazer even gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up after spotting the single yellow Hero Course pin on his shoulder strap, then exhaled a misty sigh tinged with wistfulness.
Izuku suspected the older boy had once dreamed of heroics too, but hadn't made it.
He returned the gesture with a small nod and a sincere smile.
Screech! Whir-clank!
["Now arriving at U.A. High School Station. Please watch your step as you disembark."]
Ding... shhh!
When he stepped onto the open-air platform, Izuku's gaze, as always, turned to that spot.
Sunlight stained concrete, boots and heels pattering past. No trace of that day remained visible.
A blink.
A huddled crowd.
Him, lying on the ground.
Capsule syringes riddling his body.
Blink.
Tweeet! A station attendant's whistle, pitching.
He exhaled.
"Trauma clings to places," Inui-san had told him. He'd learned it did. This place proved it again and again.
However—
He remembered Shoji-san's quiet 'thank you.'
Tensei-san's reframing: "You weren't the disaster, Midoriya. You were what stood between it and the people."
This... this wasn't as sharp as Aldera. This has lingering warmth, even if it had burned him.
Buzz! "A Message is here!" Buzz!
Izuku fumbled the phone out, cheeks warming slightly.
Scrolling down the messages, his eyes settled on one from last night. He smiled.
| Melissa Shield • 1:05 AM |
[The suit is finished and shipped to UA on schedule. I also completed the additional surprise. Though only three units this time....]
He opened the one below it from Nezu-san. There was a link at the top.
| Principal Nedzu • 8:02 AM |
[Good morning, Midoriya-kun. You may find this morning's news... illuminating.] [LINK]
He tapped it.
The live feed loaded—
A reporter stood holding a mic. Behind her, a massive herd of reporters crowded in front of the UA gates.
"Sources indicate that the Vortex quirk user is a U.A. freshman."
He flinched, then sighed.
This was happening. The media had been running this narrative for some time now. A true narrative, Izuku knew.
It wasn't insider sources, just guesswork, likely.
It had been UA entrance exam day, after all. As the well-known newscaster Daikaku Miyagi, also known as One-Horned Miyagi, had pointed out: any adult with that kind of power would either already be a hero or a villain.
Izuku couldn't begrudge that thought process. He'd once thought the same.
He shook his head, remembering two people who'd proven him wrong.
Ayumi Amatsuki—exceptionally successful, driven, and capable. Chief of staff at the best hero agency in the world.
Melissa Shield—brilliant inventor, sharp, meticulous, passionate about her goals.
And her smile when she talked about support equipment could light up a room.
He shook the thought away, making a beeline toward the station exit as he watched the live news.
The feed cut to a bespectacled boy with dark blue hair and rigid posture.
Izuku's breath caught.
Iida-san.
A microphone thrust into frame.
"About the Vortex user being a U.A. freshman. What can you tell us about it?"
Izuku's thumb hovered over the screen.
His friend stared at the microphone for a second, then his arm moved.
Woosh!
"This is very rude and unauthorized questioning!"
Woosh! Hand chopping the air.
"What?"
"And I don't have any knowledge of that—"
"Oh my, aren't you an Iida? Ingenium's brother?"
A new voice, smooth and pleasant, cut in.
A blue-skinned woman with black sclera stepped into frame, her smile professionally warm as she angled her microphone toward Iida.
"The Idaten Agency was closely involved in the incident, wasn't it? You must know something. Care to share?"
On screen, Iida froze. At the station exit, Izuku froze with him.
Then—
Woosh! Woosh!
Iida's hands chopped through the air with renewed vigor.
"As I said, I have no knowledge regarding that matter!"
He pushed past the reporter toward the gates, hands still moving as if to physically disperse the questions.
Izuku exhaled.
"A very upstanding friend you have there, Izuku," Nana said gently.
He could only nod as he examined the sheer volume of reporters crowding UA's entrance.
"The likely causes are mostly you, Izuku," En observed.
Izuku couldn't refute that.
Half a dozen times the usual media presence.
The swarm wasn't from any single leak, but from the convergence of several bright threads.
The station incident, obviously.
Then All Might's sudden refusal of interviews right after announcing his teaching position, and the barring of reporters from Might Tower despite their prior periodic access—both tied to Izuku's training and the need to protect his and his mother's identities.
Add to that the entrance exam scores, surpassing even All Might's record. The media wouldn't care that it was the result of a new format. Izuku had placed first. That alone was a headline.
And beyond him, there were others who drew attention: Yaoyorozu Momo, heir to one of Japan's wealthiest families, and Todoroki Shoto, son of the Number Two Hero.
Then—
Green tea... and honey.
No... there was also a faint note of unscented soap lingering on crisp, sun-dried fabric in the mix. His senses unraveled those fragrances before the rushing footsteps registered.
He turned.
"Midoriya-kun!"
Chestnut bobbed hair, two longer strands framing pink-dusted cheeks like etched sakura petals, and a bright smile rivaling the morning sun.
She waved her hand enthusiastically, conducting the crescendo of his heartbeat.
"Uraraka-san."
"Good morning!" she chirped, slightly breathless.
"Good morning," Izuku replied, smiling despite the knot weaving in his chest and the warmth creeping up his neck.
"So." Uraraka-san tilted her head, expression shifting to something more serious. "What should we do now? About the different intrance?"
Izuku blinked. "Different... intrance?"
She gave him a look. "The ones from—" She stopped, noticing his confusion. "You didn't check, did you?"
He pulled his phone back out, frowning. The live feed notification still dominated his screen—he'd been so focused on the news broadcast that…
Oh.
Another message sat below it.
He tapped it open.
| Principal Nedzu. UA. • 8:05 AM |
[Given the media presence at our front gates, I'm authorizing flight-capable students to bypass the main entrance should you prefer discretion. Security has been notified. Chief Hound Dog will meet you at the eastern barrier.
Feel free to extend this invitation to any classmates who might benefit. I trust your judgment. :)]
Izuku read it twice.
Excessive.
Is this... because of me?
He glanced at Uraraka-san, who was watching him with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Of course she'd deduced the message was meant specifically for them. They were the only ones in their class shown to possess aerial mobility: her's through Zero Gravity, his through Nebula.
Well... Nebula wasn't true flight yet. He could lift himself, glide short distances. But carrying others through the air? Fast, maneuverable flight. That still wasn't possible.
Though both he and Nana could 'feel' that Nebula's rotational force field could grow eventually.
With Uraraka-san's Zero Gravity, though, it's possible. They'd already tested it at the beach. And it had worked.
"It's not just us, right?" Uraraka-san said softly. "I mean, the principal said to bring others who'd want to avoid the gates."
She was right.
Students who'd be swarmed. Targeted. Pressured.
Like Iida-san had been.
His mind flickered to Shōji-san. Who had been directly involved in the station incident.
He knew from Ayumi-san that the media didn't know the victims' identities. But still...
"We should contact the others," Izuku said, pulling up his contacts. "Shoji-san... and Tokoyami-san. See if they're already on campus."
Uraraka-san nodded immediately. "Yeah! They'd probably appreciate avoiding that crowd. I'll text Tokoyami-kun."
She started typing immediately, her thumbs flying across the screen.
"I'll contact Shōji-san." Izuku scrolled to Shoji's contact—exchanged yesterday along with the others—and tapped call.
Ring! Ring!
"Hello, Midoriya-san?"
"Ah, Shoji-san. Are you close to the station?"
Izuku waited as background noise filtered through: the metallic hum of the train, faint echoes of announcements, and the restless shuffle of passengers.
"I'm still on the train. Arriving in a few minutes. Why?"
Izuku explained quickly: the media horde, Principal's message, the alternate entry point.
Shoji-san was silent for a beat, then: "I see. Thank you for the consideration. I'll meet you outside the station."
"See you there."
The call ended.
Izuku let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Tokoyami-kun said he's almost here!" Uraraka-san announced, beaming as she waved her phone. "Dark Shadow's already excited about flying, and he's 'eager to avoid the cacophony of the press.'"
Izuku smiled faintly at the contrast between the duo.
"Let's wait at the foothills," Izuku suggested.
"Okay!"
They fell into step together, weaving through the crowded station and out into the open. From there, they crossed the plaza and took the high road toward the base of the plateau.
The black asphalt, fringed with pink blossoms, meandered upward through the green-blanketed woods. The scent of sakura mingled with fresh-cut grass and warm concrete.
News vans and sedans lined the plateau fence, satellite dishes bristling skyward. Yellow parking violation notices clung to windshields like warning labels.
As they waited, small clusters of students—none they recognized—flowed past. Some huddled over their phones, their excited chatter flecking through the hubbub of the reporters drifting down the slope.
Izuku grimaced.
"Even if you don't want attention, many crave it," Hikage reminded him.
Izuku nodded, exhaling slowly. "I guess that makes sense."
Hero society ran on recognition: rankings, applause, cameras; the louder the cheers, the brighter the spotlight.
Attention, for many, wasn't a burden. It was, rather, the actual goal.
Vvvrrroooo…
A low hum drew Izuku's attention.
A sleek black limousine glided up the access road on chrome wheels, its mirror-polished body reflecting the morning light and trees.
Izuku recognized it.
"That's Yaoyorozu-san's car," he said.
"Oh!" Uraraka-san's eyes lit up. "We should ask if she wants to come with us!"
Before Izuku could respond, Uraraka-san stepped forward, waving both arms.
"Hey! Over here!"
The limousine slowed smoothly and came to a stop a few meters away.
Izuku blinked at her, surprised.
He had been about to wave it down himself, but Uraraka-san had beaten him to it.
A small smile formed on his lips.
Izuku had noticed the way her gaze lingered on that car yesterday, something quiet and complicated in her eyes. He knew about her financial situation.
But here she was, stepping forward anyway.
The rear door opened, and Momo Yaoyorozu stepped out. Her expression shifted from surprise to polite curiosity.
"Midoriya-san? And… Uraraka-san?" She glanced around the area in mild confusion. "Is something the matter?"
"Nothing's wrong!" Uraraka-san said quickly. "But, um… did you get the Principal's message? About the reporters?"
Yaoyorozu-san blinked once, then inclined her head slightly. "I did. Though I confess I wasn't entirely certain what to make of it."
Uraraka-san explained their plan and added at the end, "You could join us, if you want."
Understanding dawned in Yaoyorozu-san's eyes.
"If you'd like," Izuku added. "With your family's profile, the media might…"
He trailed off, not wanting to overstep.
But her expression softened.
"Thank you for the consideration."
Then she turned to the driver, who had already stepped out and was waiting beside the car.
"Akiyama-san, you can proceed to the main entrance. I will be entering through an alternate route today."
The driver hesitated. "Are you certain, Yaoyorozu-sama?"
"Quite certain. Thank you."
The driver bowed and returned to the vehicle.
As the limousine pulled away, a voice called out.
"Mind if I tag along?"
They turned.
A girl with short purple hair approached, one hand tucked into her jacket pocket, the other idly curling one of her earphone jacks. The other jack was plugged into the phone in her breast pocket.
Kyoka Jiro.
"I, uh…" She shrugged, looking vaguely embarrassed. "I don't wanna deal with that chaos either. Heard you talking about another way."
Izuku's gaze flicked to the jacks growing from her ears. She had probably overheard them.
Then another thought struck him.
He hadn't even noticed her approaching.
My senses…
"You probably heard her footsteps," Hikage mused. "But they were so faint they blended into the surrounding noise. You weren't actively focusing."
Uraraka-san beamed, clapping her hands. "Of course you can join us!"
Yaoyorozu-san nodded. "The more the merrier, as they say."
Jiro-san's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Cool. Thanks." She stepped forward, falling into place beside them.
As the three girls began chatting among themselves, Izuku's body tensed slightly at being the only guy.
Then an energetic voice announced: "Fear not! We have arrived, ready to lift off!"
They turned as Fumikage Tokoyami approached, his calm countenance slightly undercut by Dark Shadow swaying excitedly over his shoulder.
Another figure appeared behind the duo, tall and broad, with six arms folded in various positions.
Mezo Shoji approached silently, his multiple arms shifting as he took in the group.
Uraraka-san laughed, turning to greet them. "Tokoyami-kun! Shoji-kun! Good morning. You made it!"
A ripple of greetings spread through the group of seven gathered at the foothills.
As the group prepared to move, Izuku pulled out his phone to check the location Nezu had sent through the U.A. app's navigation.
He pocketed it and stepped over the knee-high wood-and-rope fence bordering the plateau forest. As he did, he heard someone approaching.
He looked up.
Shinsou Hitoshi approached, attention fixed on the phone in his hand, frown etched into his features, earphones plugged in.
Izuku stepped toward him, the others remaining a few paces behind. "Shinsou-san."
The other boy didn't react.
Right. The earbuds.
"Shinsou-san!" Izuku called louder.
Shinsou's head lifted, a small, guarded frown remaining as he pulled an earbud out.
"Good morning. Have you seen the message from the principal?" Izuku asked.
Shinsou's frown deepened slightly. "Yeah." He lowered his phone, screen still glowing.
Izuku's eyes caught the display: the U.A. front gate. The crowd of reporters still made him queasy.
And there, at the edges: three men in black suits, beside a black car with tinted windows.
HPSC agents. Had to be. The principal had warned him about the possibilities. But...
His hand curled at his side.
"We're planning to use the alternate route," Izuku explained quickly. "The eastern barrier."
He'd wanted to approach Shinsou-san yesterday after the Quirk Apprehension Test, but hadn't found the right moment before the other boy slipped away.
Through the dangling earbud, Izuku could hear faint audio:
"—emerging record-breakers, surpassing All Might's previous scores for the entrance exam. Then there is the top rank..."
Izuku grimaced.
"It's more likely those hungry vultures will focus on the Bakugo kid," Banjo snarked, trying to reassure in his own way. "The highest villain points. Flashy. Angry. Perfect for a headline."
Izuku kept his expression neutral, choosing not to respond.
He opened his mouth to invite Shinsou-san, only for him to raise a hand sharply.
"Hold on, Mr. Top Ranker." His voice was flat, clipped. "I don't need your help. I wasn't born with a power that gets me special treatment—or attention."
Izuku opened his mouth. No. That wasn't it. That wasn't what this was about.
But he was already brushing past Izuku.
He watched the purple-haired boy's back recede. Then came the muttered words, drifting back through the row of parked vehicles, sharp as knifing glass:
"Damn sanctimonious showboat."
Izuku froze. His hand, half-raised, slowly fell.
The words were different, almost the opposite of what he'd been told his whole life.
Not worthless. Nor pathetic. But entitled.
A showboat.
Silence hung in the air. Awkward and still.
Izuku just... stood there.
"What are you all waiting for? Let's go!" Dark Shadow broke the quiet. "Who knows what that homeroom teacher will do if we're late!"
Tokoyami-san sighed. "Dark Shadow, please—"
"Come on, Fumi! We gotta flyyy!"
The group exchanged glances, then nodded collectively.
They entered the forest, trekking toward the eastern side.
Izuku walked near the front, Shinsou-san's words still stirring in his mind.
Power.
Quirk.
Images flickered: Shinsou-san yesterday, standing rigid as the results were announced. Body tensed. Hands clenched. Last place.
Flicker.
The boy from this morning. Wilted flowers drooping from his scalp. Slumped against the alley wall. Bullies looming.
Izuku looked at his hand.
He had swatted that problem away. One flick of the hand. One burst of air.
"Izuku, you can't blame yourself for having power," Nana's voice softly chided.
'That's not it,' Izuku thought. 'I knew discrimination because of Quirks existed.'
His own situation aside, he'd seen others targeted simply because of their Quirks time and again. And been beaten equally often trying to stop it.
'But as someone without a Quirk... everyone with a Quirk was already on the other side of a wall I couldn't cross.'
A mountain he could never climb. A view he couldn't see.
Now, though, he had a Quirk. And he could see.
The privilege. The power.
And... the assumptions that came wrapped around both.
His steps didn't slow.
The forest began to thin, the canopy loosening as light spilled through the gaps ahead.
He took a deep breath, letting the sounds flow through his senses: the station noise below, the crowded buzz drifting from the front gates to the left, the sawing of cicadas in the forest canopy, footsteps crunching on pine needles and mowed grass.
Behind him, Uraraka-san chatted quietly with Yaoyorozu-san and Jiro-san, their voices light and easy. Shoji-san and Tokoyami-san walked in silence, while Dark Shadow-san hummed softly.
Curiously, one set of footsteps was so faint it almost blended with the others.
He glanced back at Jiro-san for a moment.
Then returned his gaze forward.
As they made their way up, for a brief moment, Izuku found himself in the woods near the children's park, trailing behind the boy with sparking hands and the courage he wished he possessed.
"Go, go, Bakugo hero squad! Boom, boom, boom!"