Chapter Seven — First Impressions and First Steps
Musutafu's morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of street food and fresh bread from the bakery on the corner. Takeshi stepped out of his apartment building, hands in his pockets, headphones around his neck. He wasn't in a rush. Today wasn't about school. Today was about orientation — getting a feel for the city he'd be calling home.
He walked with purpose, taking in the details around him. A cafe'. The convenience store. The bus stop. A few heroes already on patrol — though he didn't recognize them yet, being new to not just the area but the whole country.
He nodded to them as he passed. They nodded back.
He wasn't a hero yet. But he would be.
He turned down a side street lined with small shops just opening for the day. A café owner swept the sidewalk. A delivery truck idled as crates of produce were unloaded.
Then he heard it.
"Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through!"
Takeshi stepped aside just in time as a blur of navy blue and silver skidded to a stop in front of him. The blur resolved into a tall boy with glasses, straight posture, and a rigid sense of purpose radiating off him like heat.
"Ah! My apologies!" the boy said, bowing sharply. "I did not mean to nearly collide with you!"
"You didn't," Takeshi replied.
The boy straightened, adjusting his glasses with a precise motion.
"I am Tenya Iida, prospective student of U.A. High School's Hero Course!"
"…Takeshi."
Iida's eyes widened. "Takeshi Yagi?"
"Yes."
Iida's posture somehow straightened even more. "Your performance during the exam was extraordinary! I reviewed the scoring breakdown thoroughly. Your rescue points were particularly impressive!"
Takeshi shrugged lightly. "Just did what needed to be done."
"That is precisely the mindset of a true hero!" Iida declared.
He gestured down the street. "If you are also new to Musutafu, perhaps we could walk the area together. Efficiency increases when information is shared."
Takeshi considered it. He wasn't used to company. But Iida's energy wasn't intrusive — just earnest.
"…Sure."
Iida brightened. "Excellent! This way."
Heroes on Patrol
As they walked, Iida's attention snapped toward a pair of figures on the opposite sidewalk.
"Ah! That is Backdraft — ranked 112th nationally. His quirk is invaluable for fire suppression and flood control. He patrols this district in the mornings."
A moment later, a tall woman in a sleek black costume leapt across a rooftop.
"That is Wave Runner — ranked 78th. She specializes in aquatic rescues."
They turned a corner and nearly walked into a towering man in a heavy armored suit.
"That was Ironclad," Iida whispered reverently. "Ranked 56th. His patrol route rarely comes this far east."
Takeshi watched the man disappear around a corner. "You memorize all their rankings and patrols?"
"Of course! Rankings are not everything, but they provide valuable insight into public trust and operational effectiveness."
Takeshi hummed thoughtfully. "Makes sense."
They walked a little farther, the city waking up around them. Iida continued pointing out landmarks, bus routes, and shortcuts — but every time a hero passed, his attention snapped to them with laser focus.
At the next intersection, Iida paused.
"Takeshi… I am glad we met today. Entering a new environment can be challenging. It is beneficial to have at least one familiar face on the first day."
Takeshi looked at him — really looked.
A boy with engines in his legs, a rigid sense of justice, and a heart that beat loud enough for the world to hear.
"…Yeah," Takeshi said. "It is."
They parted ways at the corner, Iida heading toward the bus route, Takeshi towards home. Silently appreciating that he had made his first connection helping ease the sense of isolation he'd had since he came here. His mother and his friends were all an ocean apart. But with people like Tenya Iida, perhaps he'd be able to fill that void.
Next Day
Takeshi woke before sunrise.
Not out of nerves. Out of discipline.
A quick shower. A balanced breakfast from the pre‑stocked meals. Supplements taken with practiced precision.
Only then did he put on the U.A. uniform for the first time. He noted that it pulled slightly across his chest and arms but not to the point it was uncomfortable.
He adjusted the collar until it sat just right. Checked his posture. Looked into the eyes staring back at him in the mirror.
Calm. Steady. Ready.
He left the apartment and stepped into the crisp morning air.
Musutafu was livelier than yesterday — students in uniforms, parents walking younger kids to school, shopkeepers opening their doors. The city felt awake, energized.
He walked with purpose, following the route he'd memorized yesterday.
The closer he got to U.A., the more students he saw — some chatting excitedly, others walking alone, some practically vibrating with nerves.
He blended into the flow easily, though he stood out without trying.
He ignored the looks.
He wasn't here for attention.
He was here to work.
The massive gates of U.A. rose ahead, gleaming in the morning sun. Students gathered in clusters, taking pictures, pointing at the towering buildings beyond.
Takeshi stopped for a moment, taking in the sight.
U.A. The top hero school in Japan. The place where his father taught. The place where he would carve his own path.
He stepped forward, passing through the gates with the same steady determination he brought to every challenge.
Inside, the campus was even more impressive — sprawling training fields, towering support buildings, and the main academic complex rising like a fortress of glass and steel.
Students moved in every direction, following maps, chatting nervously, or rushing to avoid being late.
Takeshi walked calmly, scanning the signs until he found the one he needed.
Class 1‑A →
He followed the path, passing a few familiar faces from the exam. Some whispered when they recognized him. Others stared openly.
He ignored them. He wasn't here to impress anyone. He continued on his way brushing past everyone congregating in the hallways.
As he turned into the next hallway leading to Class 1‑A, he noticed it was quieter than the rest of the building. The door at the end of it was massive — far larger than any normal classroom door, clearly designed to accommodate students with large or bulky quirks.
Takeshi approached it, footsteps steady.
He paused just a few feet away.
Not out of hesitation. Not out of fear.
Just… acknowledgment.
This was the threshold. The line between everything he'd trained for and everything he was about to become.
He took a slow breath, grounding himself the way his mother had taught him.
Discipline. Clarity. Purpose.
He reached for the door.