"Yep. Definitely a self-entertaining type."
Igarashi Masata stared at Mirio Togata standing awkwardly on the podium, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
But strangely enough, Masata didn't dislike him.
Someone who could keep smiling no matter how embarrassing the situation felt was naturally easy to feel good about.
"My name is Mirio! Judging from your expressions, I'm guessing you're all pretty confused right now!"
After that slightly comedic opening, Mirio finally shifted into something resembling seriousness.
"At an off-campus activity briefing that isn't even a required class, suddenly having third-year seniors show up like this would catch anyone off guard."
"They've already obtained their provisional licenses," Aizawa-sensei added calmly from the side.
"Oh! That explains it!" Mirio nodded exaggeratedly, stroking his chin as if a revelation had struck him. "This year's first-years are really full of energy!"
He paused, thinking hard for a moment—then suddenly snapped his fingers.
"I've got it! Next, you'll form teams and fight me!"
"…What?!"
The entire class blinked.
Everyone had expected a long explanation about internships or professional Hero work.
Instead—
A sparring match?
After the initial shock faded, excitement began bubbling through Class A.
Kirishima was already cracking his knuckles.
Ever since the joint training, the harsh special drills, and the provisional license exam, everyone in Class A had grown significantly. They weren't arrogant—but there was undeniable pride simmering beneath the surface.
This was the perfect opportunity to measure themselves.
Their opponent was a senior two years ahead of them.
How big was the gap, really?
Masata leaned back against the wall, grinning.
"So this is basically permission to punch you in the face, right?"
Even though he had a decent impression of Mirio, Masata wouldn't mind repaying the "wall-face incident" from the other day if given the chance.
Seeing the enthusiasm in the room, Mirio glanced toward Aizawa-sensei for approval.
"Isn't hands-on experience with upperclassmen the most reasonable way to learn?"
Aizawa stared at his students for a long moment.
Then he shrugged.
"Do whatever you want."
The class erupted in cheers.
Within minutes, everyone had changed into their training uniforms and gathered in the gymnasium, brimming with anticipation.
"Uh… are you actually serious about this?" Sero asked, watching Mirio begin stretching.
"Of course I'm serious!"
Mirio rolled his shoulders, clearly intending to go all out.
But Tamaki Amajiki and Nejire Hado had also followed—and neither looked eager to participate.
Tamaki drifted toward the corner of the gym, radiating quiet anxiety.
"Mirio…" he muttered. "Maybe just go through the motions. Tell them it's meaningful. Not everyone in this world is optimistic. If some of them get crushed, what then?"
The words were heavy.
The atmosphere cooled slightly.
Nejire tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Yeah~ There have been students before who lost confidence after setbacks. Some even gave up on becoming Heroes. Some… ended up taking the wrong path."
"It's not rare," Tamaki continued quietly. "If you don't understand yourself clearly, it becomes a serious problem."
Mirio didn't refute them.
Which meant he understood.
Class A fell silent.
Kirishima stepped forward first.
"Hold on a second. We've fought villains face-to-face before. In your eyes, are we really just small fry that need to be protected like that?"
Masata rubbed his temple.
Shaken morale over a few words?
Still not mature enough.
But he personally had no such worries.
Absolute confidence came from absolute strength.
As class representative, Iida stepped forward, voice firm.
"Please don't worry! Even if we lose, we won't collapse from failure. Mirio-senpai, please fight seriously!"
"Mirio-senpai?" someone echoed.
But Masata raised an eyebrow.
"Ding Ding."
The class froze.
"Did you just give a senior a nickname?" Sero whispered.
"Masata, that's borderline harassment," Kaminari added dramatically.
Even Mirio blinked, pointing to himself.
"Ding Ding… is that me?"
Masata shrugged casually.
"Ah, sorry. You look exactly like a friend of mine. Couldn't help it. You don't mind, right?"
"Of course not!" Mirio laughed immediately. "I'll accept it proudly!"
"Great. Then Ding Ding, get ready."
Kirishima pumped his fist.
During the provisional license exam, he had felt the sting of Masata's blunt evaluation. This was his chance to prove his growth.
"No. Let me go first."
Midoriya stepped forward, unusually assertive.
Over the past three days, he had felt the distance between himself and his classmates growing. He needed to close that gap.
"I… want to go too."
A quiet voice followed.
Everyone turned in surprise.
Todoroki.
On normal days, he rarely sought competition like this. Why now?
He said nothing.
But inside, he understood.
During the provisional license exam, he had once again witnessed Masata's overwhelming strength. He didn't know whether Mirio or Masata was stronger—but both clearly stood near the peak of U.A.
Todoroki needed to know.
How far behind was he?
Bakugo, standing nearby, clenched his fists silently.
He felt it too.
The gap.
And he refused to let it widen any further.