Check out my new fanfic---- Harry Potter: Cleaver
WELP BE A WHILE LOL. Sorry I had plan the next arc, due to which the delay happened., But dont worry it is done, and you will get regular chapters.
sorry for the wait. Enjoy
500 PS IS THE GOAL
***
The hallways of U.A. were quieter than usual. Somehow, the energy was different. As if it were subdued.
Security had tripled since the Nomu attack. New checkpoints at every entrance. ID verification at the gates. Pro heroes on rotation, patrolling the grounds in shifts. The campus that had once felt like a school now felt like a fortress.
Class 1-A's door was open as the students trickled in one by one, dropping bags, taking seats, filling the room with gossip.
Izuku Midoriya was one of the first to arrive. He took his seat and placed his bag on the floor beside him, the red scarf folded neatly inside it. He hadn't told anyone about the woman on the train, yet. He will.... once Akira gets here.
As the minutes passed and more students filed in, the room began to fill with stories.
It started with Kirishima.
"Bro," he said, dropping into his seat with the barely contained energy of a golden retriever who had just been told he was a good boy, "I was at the convenience store yesterday, right? And this old dude — like, seventy, eighty years old — walks up to me and goes, 'You're the kid who hardened up and took all those hits, aren't you?' And I'm like, 'Uh, yes sir?' And he just... grabs my hand and shakes it. For like thirty seconds. Doesn't say anything else. Just shakes my hand and walks away."
He was grinning like a golden retriever too.....
"That was the coolest thing that has ever happened to me."
"That's nothing," Kaminari said, spinning his chair around to face the group. "I was walking through Shibuya, and these three girls came up to me — like, actual cute girls — and they're like, 'Oh my god, you're Chargebolt, right? You were so cool during the festival!' And I'm standing there trying to be smooth, and then one of them asks if I can make a spark, and I do a little one, and they all squeal, and I-"
"Did you short-circuit?" Jiro asked flatly.
"...I short-circuited."
"Called it."
The class laughed at Kaminair's pain.
Sero jumped in next. "I got stopped at the train station by a kid who wanted my autograph. MY autograph. I've never given an autograph in my life. I didn't even know how to sign my name in a cool way. I just wrote 'Sero' in normal handwriting, and the kid looked at me like I handed him gold."
"At least you got asked," Ojiro said with a sigh. "Nobody recognises me. I walked past the same group of fans three times, and they didn't even look at me."
"Your quirk is a tail, dude," Sato said. "You have to turn around for people to notice."
"That's... actually a fair point."
Tsuyu went next. "A little girl at the park asked if I was a real frog. I told her I was a frog hero. She asked if I could catch flies with my tongue. I showed her........ and she cried."
"From fear?" Sato asked.
"From joy, ribbit. She said it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen."
Todoroki, who had been sitting silently at his desk, spoke without looking up. "My father's agency received four hundred and twelve internship requests on my behalf. He called me to discuss them."
The class waited.
"I hung up," Todoroki finished.
Nobody was surprised.
Uraraka bounced in her seat. "I got recognised at the grocery store! The cashier gave me a discount! She said, 'You're that gravity girl, right? You were amazing with your teamwork against Akira!' And I'm like...." She stopped, as he face went red. "Okay, I might have cried a little."
"You definitely cried!!" Mina teased her.
Tokoyami sat in the back corner, his arms crossed, Dark Shadow shifting lazily around his shoulders. "I was approached by a man in black who asked if I was interested in 'the darker path of heroism.' I told him I walk in shadow, but I serve the light."
"What did he say?" Shoji asked.
"He gave me his business card. It was for a goth clothing store in Harajuku." (HAHAHAHA!!!)
Even Bakugo had a story, though he told it through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, as if admitting that something positive had happened to him was physically painful.
"Some brat on the street said I was 'the scary explosion man' and asked if I could blow up a trash can for him."
"Did you?" Kirishima asked.
"...Maybe."
The class burst with laughter. The image of Bakugo blowing up a trash can for a child was too perfect.
"YOU TELL ANYONE AND I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU."
"Too late, I'm texting everyone I know," Kaminari said, already typing.
The noise continued. More stories. More laughter. More of the slow, tentative process of teenagers remembering that they were teenagers, that the world outside U.A. had noticed them, that the Sports Festival — despite everything that had gone wrong — had also gone right in ways they were only now beginning to understand.
Then the door opened.
Two figures stepped into the classroom.
The noise stopped.
Akira stood in the doorway, with Momo beside him.
Akira looked at the class.
The class looked at Akira.
The silence stretched. One second. Two. Three. And then the bubble burst.
Kirishima yelled.
"WELCOME BACK, BOSS!!!!!!!! GLAD YOU'RE DOING WELL!!!!!!"
His voice shattered the silence like a brick through a window, and the moment it did, the dam broke.
The class surged.
Almost the whole class left their desks and crossed the room in a wave of bodies and noise, converging on Akira and Momo.
Kirishima reached him first — obviously — and grabbed Akira's hand in a grip that would have crushed a normal person's fingers. "DUDE!! THAT WAS THE MOST MANLY THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!! THE FLAMES!! THE WINGS!! THE PURPLE FIRE!! BRO!!"
Kaminari was right behind him. "Boss, you literally trended worldwide for a WEEK. A WEEK. My follower count tripled just because I'm in the same class as you. Thank you for your service."
Sero threw an arm around Akira's shoulder. "The courtroom footage was insane. Nezu destroyed that lawyer. And when Mirko kicked the door down? PEAK CINEMA."
Sato appeared with a box. "I baked these for you and Yaoyorozu. Red velvet. Hope you like it."
Shoji extended multiple arms and somehow managed to pat both Akira and Momo on the shoulders simultaneously. "Glad you're both safe. Truly."
Uraraka grabbed Momo's hands. "Momo, you were SO brave. The way you handled everything!! I would have been a MESS."
"I was a mess," Momo said honestly.
"Then you were the most composed mess I've ever seen!"
Then Mina pushed through.
She wasn't smiling. She wasn't cheering. She wasn't bouncing or dancing or radiating the manic energy that usually defined her presence.
She was crying.
"You IDIOTS," she said, her voice thick, her pink face streaked with tears. "Do you know how WORRIED I was?! Do you have ANY idea what it was like watching that on TV?! I saw you lose your arm, Akira! I saw you DIE! On a SCREEN! And I couldn't do ANYTHING!"
She grabbed Akira's sleeve and pulled.
"Don't you EVER do that again! EVER! Do you hear me?!"
Akira looked at her and smiled.
"I hear you, Mina," he said quietly.
She sniffled and nodded. Then punched his arm. "Good."
Jiro stepped forward next. She didn't cry. She didn't yell. She stood in front of Akira and Momo with her hands in her pockets.
"For what it's worth," Jiro said, looking at both of them, "I'm proud of you two. Both of you. What you did out there... that was real. And this whole class knows it."
She turned and walked back to her seat before anyone could respond, because Jiro did not do prolonged emotional moments.
From the back of the room, Tokoyami's voice carried like a bell in a cathedral.
"The phoenix fell," he said, his arms crossed, Dark Shadow nodding solemnly beside him, "and from the ashes, it rose more glorious than before. The darkness could not claim what the light had already chosen. Welcome back to the realm of the living, Class President."
"Dude... that was actually good. Damn!" Kirishima whispered.
"I have been working on it for two weeks," Tokoyami admitted.
The crowd around Akira and Momo slowly thinned as students returned to their seats, the initial explosion of emotion settling into a warm, steady hum that filled the room like sunlight through a window.
And then Izuku stepped forward and stopped in front of Akira.
Izuku reached into his bag and pulled out the red scarf and held it out with both hands.
Akira looked at it. Then at Izuku.
He had no clue what this was.
"What's this?" Akira asked.
Izuku took a breath.
"A woman on the train gave it to me," he said. "Her husband was killed by Muscular years ago. Before the Sports Festival. Before any of this."
The classroom went still.
"She asked me to give it to you. She said... it's a thank you. From her and her son. For bringing peace to her husband's soul."
Akira looked at the scarf as if it were something precious.
Izuku didn't stop there. He couldn't. Because the woman on the train had unlocked something in him that had been building since the blood oath, since the trial, since the operational logs, since the moment he had watched a boy his age burn a villain alive and couldn't decide if it was justice or murder.
"Akira," Izuku said, "I used to think... I used to believe that there was only one way to be a hero. That the path was clear. Good and bad. Black and white. Save people. Capture villains. Trust the system."
He paused.
"But after everything that happened..... I realised that the world isn't that simple. The system I trusted... it let you die. It let a monster come back and kill again. And the people who were supposed to protect everyone... they were the ones deciding who was expendable."
He looked at Akira directly.
"I respect your path now, not like it matters... I understand why you walk on it. The people who gave you that scarf — they needed what you gave them. Justice. Closure. An end to the cycle that the system refused to break."
Izuku straightened his back. His green eyes met Akira's crimson ones.
"But I'm still going to walk my path. Because a coin always has two sides. For every shadow, a source of light is needed. You chose to be the fear that villains run from. I'm choosing to be the light that people run toward."
He smiled.
"The world needs both. I understand that now."
The classroom was silent. All students went silent.
Akira stared at Izuku. After a while a smiled and took the scarf.
He unfolded it. Ran the fabric through his fingers. Felt its real weight of it, and then wrapped it around his neck.
He turned to Momo.
"How does it look?"
Momo looked at him with a fond smile and said.
"Perfect."
Akira turned back to Izuku and extended his hand.
"Glad you grew up a bit, Midoriya."
Izuku looked at the hand. Then at Akira. Then at the hand again.
He laughed awkwardly.
The class laughed with him. Not at him. With him.
Izuku took Akira's hand and shook it.
And in his mind, the thought from the train completed itself.
This is why I became a hero.
Not to be the strongest. Not to be the greatest. Not to stand at the top of a ranking that measured power in numbers.
To be the light.
The kind that shines brightest when the shadow is deepest....
Here stood the two people... the people who would be the light and darkness of Japan.
Two sides of the same coin.
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