500 PS IS THE GOAL
***
As Akira and Izuku's hands separated, the classroom door slid open yet again.
And Aizawa walked in lazily, like always.
He looked around the room as the students made their way back to their seats.
Then his gaze found Akira.
"Akira."
Akira straightened. "Yes, Sensei."
Aizawa looked at him for a moment as he studied the boy who had been through hell in the past few days.
"Glad you're okay."
Just three words that, from Aizawa, carried more weight than a hundred from anyone else.
Akira smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, sir."
Aizawa nodded. And moved to his desk.
"Sit down. All of you."
Aizawa walked to the podium. He set down a folder and a remote. Then he turned to face the class.
"First things first," he said. "The attack on the Sports Festival was a significant security breach. U.A. is implementing new protocols campus-wide. You'll notice the increased security — checkpoints, patrols, ID verification. These are not temporary. They are the new standard."
He paused.
"The HPSC's conduct during the incident is under investigation by the Supreme Court. I won't comment on that beyond saying that U.A.'s position is clear: the safety of our students is non-negotiable. What happened at the festival will not happen again."
His eyes swept the room. Making sure every student understood that this was not a suggestion.
"Now. On to the reason I'm here."
He clicked the remote. The screen behind him lit up.
"Two things. First: hero names. Second: Internship offers."
The class perked up. After all, they are finally choosing their hero names!!
"Based on your performance at the Sports Festival, pro hero agencies across the country have submitted internship requests for several of you," Aizawa continued. "These are real offers from real agencies. The internship period will last one week. During that time, you will work directly with pro heroes in the field."
He clicked again. A graph appeared on the screen — a bar chart showing the distribution of offers across the class.
The room went quiet as students processed the numbers.
The tallest bar, predictably, belonged to Akira. The number beside it was absurd — over three thousand offers. From agencies across Japan and, notably, several international organisations. The Sports Festival broadcast, the transformation, the trial, the acquittal — all of it had turned him into the most talked-about figure in the hero world. Every agency wanted to be associated with him.
The second-tallest bar belonged to Momo.
Third was Bakugo with three hundred and nine.
And fourth was Shoto with two hundred and sixty-seven.
"Even those of you with no offers will participate," Aizawa said, anticipating the disappointment on certain faces. "You'll choose from a list of agencies that have agreed to take on U.A. students. Nobody sits this out."
He set the remote down.
"Now. Hero names."
He pulled out the folder and opened it.
"Your hero name is important. It's not a nickname. It's not a joke. It's the name the public will know you by for the rest of your career. It shapes how people perceive you, how agencies market you, how villains identify you. Choose carefully."
He glanced toward the door.
"I've brought in someone to help with the approval process. She has... opinions."
The door opened again, and Midnight walked in.
Nemuri swept into the classroom with the theatrical energy of a woman who had been waiting for this moment since the semester began. She was carrying a stack of small whiteboards and markers.
"Good morning, my darlings!" she announced, striking a pose that nobody had asked for. "Today is the day you choose the names that will define your heroic identities! I will be reviewing each submission for appropriateness, marketability, and flair. Think carefully. Think boldly. And for the love of God, think creatively."
She distributed the whiteboards to each student.
"You have ten minutes to brainstorm. Then we present. LETS GO!!!."
The room buzzed. Students hunched over their whiteboards, markers squeaking, erasers working overtime. Whispered consultations broke out between neighbours.
Akira sat at his desk, whiteboard blank, marker uncapped, staring at the empty surface.
He had been thinking about this since before the Sports Festival. Since the blood oath. Since the day he stood on a stage and declared himself the Symbol of Fear. He had known, even then, that the moment would come when he would need a name — a name that carried everything he was and everything he intended to become.
A name that villains would fear.
A name that victims would remember.
A name that the world would not forget.
He tapped the marker against the whiteboard. Thinking.
"Hey."
Momo poked his arm from the adjacent desk. She was holding her own whiteboard, already written on, the text hidden against her chest.
"Have you decided your hero name yet?" she asked.
Akira looked at her. Then at his blank board. Then back at her.
"Maybe," he said.
She laughed at him. "Well, that's progress. Better than staring at a blank board for ten minutes."
"Have you decided?" he asked.
She smiled and gave him a nod.
"You'll see," she said.
Akira nodded. He looked back at his whiteboard.
Something that everyone would remember. Something that villains would fear.
***
"Alright!" Midnight clapped her hands. "Time's up! Let's see what you've got. Who wants to go first?"
Aoyama stood immediately. He walked to the front of the room with the confidence of a man who had been born ready for this moment, held up his whiteboard, and declared:
"I Cannot Stop Twinkling!"
The class stared.
Midnight stared.
"That's... a full sentence," she said.
"It is a statement of truth!" Aoyama insisted.
Midnight considered it. Then smiled. "Shorten it. 'Can't Stop Twinkling.' Approved!"
Aoyama sparkled..... literally, somehow.
Ashido went next. She bounced to the front, held up her board with a grin, and announced: "Alien Queen!"
Midnight's expression shifted. "That sounds... villainous. Too aggressive. Think softer."
Ashido deflated. "But it's cool..."
"It IS cool. It's also lawsuit-adjacent. Try again."
Ashido slumped back to her desk, muttering. She would eventually settle on "Pinky".
Tsuyu was next. She walked to the front with calm and held out her board.
"Rainy Season Hero: Froppy."
Midnight's eyes lit up. "That is ADORABLE. Approved! This is the energy I want, people!"
The class exhaled. Normal names were okay. The pressure decreased.
Kirishima stepped up. He held his board with both hands, his expression serious.
"Sturdy Hero: Red Riot."
"Inspired by?" Midnight asked.
"Crimson Riot. He's my idol. Everything I want to be as a hero, he showed me first."
Midnight nodded. "Strong choice and meaningful. Approved."
Kaminari followed. "Stun Gun Hero: Chargebolt!"
"Approved."
Hagakure: "Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl!"
"Approved. On the nose, but it works."
Todoroki walked to the front. He held up his board.
"Shoto."
The class waited for more. There was no more.
"Just... your first name?" Midnight asked.
"Yes."
"Any particular reason?"
Todoroki's expression didn't change. "I don't need a title. My name is enough."
Midnight studied him for a moment. Then smiled. "Your confidence is either admirable or terrifying. Approved."
Tokoyami presented next. Dark Shadow floated beside him, adding dramatic flair that was entirely unnecessary and entirely appreciated.
"Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi."
"The moon god of Japanese mythology," Midnight said, impressed. "Excellent theming. Approved."
Then Bakugo walked to the front and slammed his board on the podium.
"King Explosion Murder."
The class went silent.
Midnight's smile vanished. "Absolutely not."
"WHAT?!"
"It has 'murder' in the name, Bakugo."
"IT'S INTIMIDATING!"
"It's baddddd. Try again."
Bakugo seethed. He returned to his desk, erased his board furiously, and wrote again. He came back.
"Lord Explosion Murder."
"You just changed 'King' to 'Lord.' The answer is still no."
"I'LL KIL-"
"The answer is no."
Bakugo returned to his seat, vibrating with anger. He would spend the rest of the session glaring at his whiteboard.
Uraraka went next. She held up her board with both hands.
"Uravity."
"A combination of your name and 'gravity'?" Midnight asked.
Uraraka nodded. "It feels right. Like it's mine."
"It is yours. Approved."
Jiro: "Hearing Hero: Earphone Jack."
"Clean. Functional. Approved."
Sero: "Taping Hero: Cellophane."
"Transparent and effective. Like the tape itself. Approved."
Ojiro: "Martial Arts Hero: Tailman."
Shoji: "Tentacle Hero: Tentacole."
Sato: "Sweets Hero: Sugarman."
Iida was called. He walked to the front slowly and held up his board.
"Tenya."
Iida stood at the front with the weight of something unspoken pressing on his shoulders — his brother's name, Ingenium, the name he had been offered, the name he couldn't bring himself to take. Not yet. Not while the wound was still fresh. Not while the Hero Killer was still out there.
Midnight looked at him and sighed.
"Approved," she said softly.
Iida returned to his seat. His jaw was tight.
Then Momo stood.
She walked to the front of the class and revealed the name.
"Everything Hero: Creati."
Midnight's eyebrows rose. "Creati. From 'creation'?"
"From creation, creativity, and the idea that a hero should be able to adapt to any situation," Momo said. "My quirk allows me to create anything I understand the molecular structure of. I wanted a name that reflected that versatility."
"Versatile, elegant, and memorable. Approved!"
The class applauded. Momo returned to her seat with a satisfied nod.
Izuku was called next. He walked up nervously and held up his board.
"Deku."
Bakugo's head snapped up from his desk, his eyes blazing. That name... that name which he used to poke him, was being claimed. Repurposed. Turned from a weapon into an identity.
"It used to mean something bad," Izuku said, his voice steadying as he spoke. "Someone told me it sounds like the word for 'you can do it.' I want to make it mine. I want to turn it into something that means... anyone can be a hero. Even someone who was told they couldn't."
Midnight pressed her hand to her chest. "That is beautiful. Approved."
Izuku returned to his seat. Bakugo stared at him with an expression that defied categorisation.
And then the last name was called.
"Akira."
The class went quiet. Everyone was wondering what name he would pick.
Akira stood. He picked up his whiteboard from his desk, walked to the front of the classroom.
He stopped at the podium. Looked at the class. At Midnight. At Aizawa, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching with the unreadable expression of a man who had stopped being surprised by this student a long time ago.
He turned the board around.
ASHBORN
++++++++++++++
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