As Haruto stepped out of the cooling concrete tunnel of Ground Beta, the adrenaline was already flatlining back into his usual state of high-functioning boredom.
He was busy checking the tension on his utility belt when a whir-click sounded near his boots.
A small, impeccably polished drone hovered at eye level.
"Akagi-kun," a pre-recorded, cheerful voice chirped from the drone's speakers. It was unmistakably Nezu. "A fascinating performance! Truly a masterclass in resource management. I've found myself suddenly craving a specific blend of Darjeeling, and I find that tea is always better when shared with a fellow... strategist."
The drone tilted its camera lens, flickering green. "Please join me in the Principal's office. We have much to discuss regarding your... unique inventory."
Haruto stared at the lens for a beat. 'System Status: Boss Room Trigger,' he thought. 'The Game Master is tired of watching the stream and wants a private lobby.'
"Lead the way, little bot," Haruto muttered, "But if there aren't snacks, I'm charging for the consultation fee."
***
The Principal's Office
The office was a shrine to high-tier intellect—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a scent of expensive tea.
Nezu sat behind his desk, pouring two cups with terrifying precision.
"Sit, Akagi-kun. Please."
Haruto sank into the plush chair, resting his "G-Rated" swords against the mahogany wood. He didn't wait for an opening. "You've got the dossier, don't you? The Shizuoka alleyways, the duct-tape restraints. You didn't invite me here to talk about global warming and depressed penguins "
Nezu's whiskers twitched. "Straight to the point. I appreciate that. Most students spend ten minutes stuttering about 'Plus Ultra' before we get to the data. Yes, I have the files. You've been a very busy the last three-years"
The chimera pushed a cup toward him. "A lot of people might think you're a criminal—a vigilante who disregards the law and bypassed the traditional path into this school. I, however, see someone who realized the current hero system has gaps and decided to fill them himself."
"And?" Haruto took a sip. It was significantly better than his protein bar. "Are you going to report me, or are we negotiating terms?"
"Terms?" Nezu's bead-like eyes glittered. "I want to see how far your 'efficiency' can go. UA is a school for heroes, yes, but it is also a laboratory for potential. You are a variable I haven't encountered in years. I will keep your history in the restricted vault"
Nezu leaned forward, his voice dropping into a sharp, clinical tone. "But remember, Akagi-kun: if you cross the line... I will have no choice but to follow the letter of the law. Am I clear?"
Haruto set the cup down, his expression unreadable behind his goggles. "Crystal. Just don't expect me to start wearing a cape. They're a massive safety hazard."
*********<>*********
The next day at the classroom
The classroom was buzzing with the kind of nervous energy that precedes a field trip.
Aizawa stood at the front, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, holding up a remote.
"Today's training will be a bit different," Aizawa said. "Trial of Rescue. You'll be heading off-site to a specialized facility."
Haruto sat in the back row, his chair balanced on two legs, staring out the window. He didn't look at the chalkboard.
'And there it is,' he thought. 'The Off-Site Training arc. Usually, this is where the production value spikes and the villains decide to stop being background noise. If I were a betting man, I'd say we're about twenty minutes away from a pacing shift.'
"Haruto-kun! Are you excited?"
A pair of floating gloves hovered over his desk. Toru was practically vibrating in her seat next to him. "Aizawa-sensei said we can wear our costumes!"
Haruto let the front legs of his chair thud against the floor. He looked at the empty space where her face was.
"It's a rescue trial, Ghost-chan. Usually, that means a lot of lifting debris and acting concerned. Don't get your hopes up for a fight sequence just yet"
he winked at the "camera", then said
"unless the writers are feeling spicy today."
*********<>*********
Later at the boy's locker room
The boys' locker room was a chaotic mess of ego and polyester. Bakugo was snarling at his gauntlets, and Midoriya was muttering to himself while lacing his red boots.
Haruto stood in the corner, pulling on his crimson hoodie. He checked the sheaths hidden between his clothes and his back, ensuring his steel blades - not the G-rated ones - were seated perfectly.
"Hey, Akagi," Kirishima called out, hardening his arm experimentally. "You sure you don't want some armor? You're technically Quirkless, right?"
Haruto zipped up his hoodie.
"Armor just slows you down when you're trying to dodge the plot, Kirishima," Haruto said with a crooked smirk.
He looked at the "void" over Kirishima's shoulder. "Look at him. The Brave Sidekick archetype. He thinks armor saves people. Poor kid hasn't seen the script yet."
*****
The bus ride to the USJ was the classic "Travel Sequence" Iida was acting like a drill sergeant, and the rest of the class was engaged in the mandatory "What's your Quirk?" conversation.
Haruto sat next to the window, Toru sitting across from him. He watched Tsuyu Asui bluntly break down Midoriya's power set.
"Your Quirk is like All Might's," Tsuyu observed.
'Oof,' Haruto thought, leaning his head against the glass. 'Subtlety isn't exactly the mangaka's strong suit today. That's a massive foreshadowing flag.'
"What about you, Haruto?" Kaminari asked, leaning over the seat. "The 'Medical Miracle' thing. Did you get a Quirk out of it? Like, 'Super Vitality' or something?"
The bus went quiet. Even Bakugo glanced over.
Haruto didn't blink. "Nope. Still a big fat zero on the Quirk Factor. I'm just a guy who's too stubborn to stay in a hospital bed."
"Besides," he whispered, his voice dropping to a low mutter. "If I told you my survival rate was actually a biological rewrite of the genre, it would completely ruin the tension of the next twenty minutes. Spoilers are the lowest form of conversation, don't you think?"
He turned back to the window, catching a glimpse of the massive dome in the distance. He felt a cold itch under his skin—the "Merc" part of him sensing a shift in the atmosphere.
"We're here" Aizawa announced.
***
As the class stepped off the bus and met Thirteen at the entrance of the USJ, the sheer scale of the facility took everyone's breath away. Shipwrecks, landslides, fire zones—it was a playground of disasters.
Thirteen began their speech about the "Power to Kill" versus the "Power to Save." It was a heavy, thematic moment.
Haruto, however, wasn't listening to the speech. He was watching the fountain in the center of the plaza. The air there was shimmering, a dark, oily mist beginning to swirl in the vacuum of the space.
He stepped closer to Toru, his hand instinctively hovering over his back where his blades were hidden.
"Hey, Ghost-chan," he whispered, his voice dropping the "meta" sarcasm. "Remember what I said about the script? stay vigilant."
"What do you mean, Haru—"
BZZZT.
The lights flickered. The mist expanded. A hand reached out from the darkness, followed by a pair of dead, yellow eyes.
'End of the prologue,' he thought. 'Time for the gore budget to earn its keep.'