A long rectangular table dominated the center of the room. Nearly every seat was filled. The Sports Festival had drawn in all of UA's core faculty, and none of them had gone home yet.
"Well," Midnight said, breaking the silence. "That was a festival."
"That's one word for it." Aizawa said.
"Chaos," Midnight continued.
"Anarchy. A public relations nightmare. Take your pick."
All Might stopped drumming his fingers.
"Young Akagi certainly... made an impression."
"Impression?" Midnight set down her papers.
"Is that what we're calling it? An impression? I've had to explain the situation to three different reporters. Three. One of them asked if we were training heroes or vigilantes."
Aizawa opened his eye. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him we were training students who think for themselves." She paused.
"He didn't like that answer."
"Good," Aizawa said.
Vlad King unfolded his arms. "I don't understand why we're defending him. He made a mockery of the tournament."
"He made a point," Aizawa said.
"A point?" Vlad King's voice rose.
"He disrespected every student who followed the rules. He disrespected the judges. He disrespected the entire event."
Aizawa sat up slowly. His bandaged face was hard to read, but his one visible eye was sharp.
"When the villains attacked at the USJ, Akagi didn't run or hide, He went back into the plaza to pull me out of the line of fire. He knew he was outmatched, but he went anyway."
He paused.
"And when that villain went after Hagakure, Akagi stepped up to save her, and you know what happened afterwards"
"He put himself in danger for his classmate because that's what heroes do."
He looked at Vlad King.
"So no, Sekijiro. I don't care about the speech or whatever. I care about the fact that when it mattered, Haruto Akagi didn't hesitate."
Vlad King was silent. His arms were still crossed, but his expression had shifted.
Snipe adjusted his mask.
"The kid's got guts. I'll give him that. But guts don't keep the Commission off our backs."
All Might looked at his own hands, trembling slightly from the effort of maintaining his form.
"You know," he said quietly,
"before the Golden Age, there were no hero licenses. No Commission. No rules about who could save people and who couldn't."
The room went still.
"Quirks appeared. Chaos followed. And the ones who stepped up to protect others, were just... people. People who saw someone in trouble and decided to help."
He flexed his fingers.
"They just had guts and a willingness to get hurt for strangers. They built the foundation of everything we have now."
He looked up.
"Young Akagi didn't say anything that I haven't lived. He just... said it out loud."
No one spoke.
Nezu set down his teacup. "I spoke with him. After the ceremony. In the tunnel."
All Might looked at him. "And?"
Nezu's whiskers twitched. "He's not trying to tear down the system. He said he doesn't care"
"Doesn't care? Then what is he trying to do?" Vlad King asked.
Nezu folded his paws.
"Akagi-kun clearly understands something that most people forget. Order exists because someone maintains it. The rules don't enforce themselves. The Symbol of Peace does."
He looked at All Might.
"You, Toshinori. You are the reason this society can afford to care about procedure. Because you've spent years making sure the chaos stays at bay. Young Akagi knows that. And he called it a 'free lesson.'"
Aizawa opened his eye. "A free lesson?"
"For the other students," Nezu said.
"He wanted them to see that being a hero means making choices—not just following orders."
He picked up his teacup.
"And he's not wrong in that regard."
***
[The Hero Public Safety Commission – Headquarters]
A long table sat beneath white lights. And there was a large screen at the far end of the room, that replayed footage from the Sports Festival on a loop.
Haruto Akagi standing in the arena with one boot on.
Haruto "interviewing" Midnight.
Haruto turning his back on the crowd and walking away.
The image froze on his grin.
At the head of the table, the Chairwoman folded her hands.
"Well," she said evenly, "that was something."
No one replied.
Around her sat legal advisors, public relations officers, intelligence analysts, and hero liaisons. A folder lay open in the table. One file was marked:
AKAGI, HARUTO
Age: 14
Status: U.A. First Year
An analyst adjusted his glasses.
"We've been reviewing several unsolved incidents over the past three years."
He tapped the screen, and several photos appeared in sequence.
Street criminals found restrained with improvised wire. Smuggling runners hospitalized with blunt trauma. Anonymous payments toward Hana Akagi's medical debt.
The analyst continued carefully.
"We cannot conclusively tie these incidents to Akagi, but..."
"But?" the Chairwoman asked.
"But the pattern is suggestive."
A man from Public Relations tapped the frozen image of Haruto.
"So we may have a student with vigilante tendencies who just challenged regulatory authority in front of a national audience. On live television."
A legal advisor cleared his throat.
"Is U.A. aware?"
"We don't know," said the analyst.
"No formal reports indicate misconduct beyond today's event. But Nezu is... protective of his students."
The Chairwoman nodded once.
"Contact U.A. Request an internal behavioral assessment. Phrase it as concern for student welfare."
She turned to the Public Relations head.
"Prepare a statement. 'The Commission supports UA's disciplinary process and has full confidence in their judgment' Nothing more."
She looked at the intelligence analyst.
"Reduce his options."
She stood.
"Then have that person make contact. Let him evaluate the boy up close."
The analyst frowned. "And if he reports back that he's a genuine threat?"
The Chairwoman picked up her pen.
"Then we deal with it. One way or another."
Silence settled over the room.
At the far end, Haruto Akagi's grin still stared back from the screen.
***
[The Classroom]
Two days off had done little to calm the nervous energy buzzing through the room. Students sat at their desks, glancing at the door.
Aizawa entered the classroom. He was no longer wearing bandages—his face was fully healed, though his expression was as tired as ever.
"Settle down," he grumbled.
The room went quiet.
He picked up a remote and clicked it. A screen lit up behind him, displaying a list of names and numbers.
"These are your internship offers. Pro hero agencies from across the country have submitted requests based on your performances at the Sports Festival."
The class leaned forward.
"Todoroki. Four thousand, one hundred and twenty-three offers."
Kaminari's jaw dropped. Kirishima whistled.
Shoto stared at the screen, his expression didn't change.
"Bakugo. Three thousand, five hundred and fifty-six offers."
Bakugo crossed his arms with no noticable reaction.
"Tokoyami. Three hundred and sixty offers."
Tokoyami nodded solemnly. Dark Shadow peeked out, looking pleased.
"Iida. Three hundred and one offers."
Iida adjusted his glasses.
"A respectable number."
"Kaminari. Two hundred and seventy-two offers."
Kaminari blinked.
"Wait, I got more than—"
"Yaoyorozu. One hundred and eight offers."
Momo nodded gracefully.
"Kirishima. Sixty-eight offers."
Kirishima grinned. "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"
"Uraraka. Twenty offers."
Uraraka squealed. "Twenty?! That's amazing!"
Aizawa continued down the list.
Then he paused.
"Midoriya. Zero offers."
The room went still.
Izuku stared at the screen.
"Zero?" he repeated quietly.
"Zero," Aizawa confirmed.
"Your performance was noted. But your fighting style made agencies hesitant. They don't want an intern who breaks himself every time he throws a punch."
Kaminari winced. "Ouch."
Kirishima leaned over. "Dude, that's rough."
Izuku looked down at his hands. "I... understand."
Aizawa turned to the last name.
"Akagi. Zero offers."
The class turned to look at Haruto. He was leaning back in his chair, looking utterly unbothered.
"What? Zero?" he said, his voice flat and utterly unconvincing.
"I definitely didn't expect this outcome after publicly mocking the hero system on live television."
Kaminari stared at him. "Are you being sarcastic?"
"Me? Never."
Jiro snorted. "He's being sarcastic."
Mineta leaned forward. "Wait, zero? Even less than me? That's... actually impressive."
Haruto glanced at him. "Thank you, Mineta. I strive for excellence in all things, including failure."
"Cheer up, Deku," Haruto chirped, winking at the boy.
"Zero offers just means you've got nowhere to go but up. Or sideways. Or in circles."
Midoriya stared at him. "That's not... reassuring."
"This is our future! To joke about such a lack of professional interest is—" Iida said, chopping the air.
Haruto laughed, swinging his feet onto the desk.
"Please. If the hero thing doesn't work out, I've got a backup plan. I'll start a YouTube channel called 'Regen-Rants'. I'll just film myself getting hit by trains to test different brands of insurance."
He turned his gaze toward bakugo.
"What about you, Blasty? Three thousand offers? You should start a consulting firm for anger management. Oh, wait, you'd just blow up the office."
"SHUT UP, YOU REGEN-FREAK!" Bakugo snarled, sparks popping in his palms.
"Regen-freak. That's new. I like it." He tapped his chin.
"You know what? I could make a killing as an organ donor. Same kidney, sold multiple times. It's the infinite money glitch. The black market would love me"
Kaminari blinked. "That's... horrifying."
"It's entrepreneurship, Kaminari."
"You'd sell your organs on the black market?" Uraraka asked, her face pale.
"You are a truly disturbed individual," Jiro muttered, though she looked like she was trying to decide if he was actually joking.
Aizawa slammed his hand on the podium. The room went silent.
"Enough. While the rest of the class will be choosing from their lists, those without offers will be assigned to a specific program. In Midoriya's case, we have a special request that came in late. As for you, Akagi..."
He paused. His tired eyes scanned the room, then settled on Haruto.
"Someone has come to see you. Personally."
The class went still. Kaminari leaned forward. Kirishima raised an eyebrow. Bakugo's eyes narrowed.
"Personally?" Haruto repeated, his feet still on the desk.
"Wow. I'm honored. Is it a talent scout for a circus? Or maybe the police?"
"Why would the police visit you?" Iida asked, his brow furrowing into suspicious 'V'.
"Chill out, Sonic," Haruto waved a hand dismissively.
"I'm just saying, I have one of those faces. The kind that looks guilty of things I haven't even thought of yet. It's a gift."
"It's a curse for the rest of us," Jiro muttered.
"Whatever it is," Aizawa interrupted, his voice cutting through the chatter.
"he's waiting in the faculty lounge. And he isn't a policeman. Not exactly."
Haruto raised an eyebrow.
"Not exactly?" Haruto repeated, tilting his head.
"So what is he? A mime? Because if a mime came to see me personally, I'd be impressed."
Aizawa stared at him.
"Then a clown? Because I've got a feeling this is turning into a circus."
Aizawa continued to stare.
"Okay, not a clown. A magician? A fortune teller? Santa?"
Aizawa kept staring.
Haruto sighed. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"No."
"Not even a hint?"
Aizawa's expression didn't change. "You'll find out soon enough. Stay after class."
Haruto tilted his head. "Ominous. I like it."
Midoriya stared at Haruto. "Who do you think it is?"
"No idea," Haruto said, though he already had an idea.