One week after the doctor visit, school started.
Not the big hero school. Not even elementary yet. Just the local preschool where five-year-olds learned their letters, shared snacks, and occasionally set off small explosions during show-and-tell.
Katzo stood at the gate, backpack slung over one shoulder, watching the chaos unfold.
Bakugo and Izuku were in the same class — Room 102. Their teacher was a plump woman with a flower-print dress and a Quirk that made her voice echo slightly. Useful for yelling.
Katzo was in Room 103. Next door. With a different teacher and different kids.
"Okay," Inko said, crouching down to his level. "You'll be fine. I'll pick you up right after. If you need anything, tell your teacher."
"I'll be fine," Katzo said, already scanning his new classroom through the window.
Inside, a girl with puffy brown hair and a nervous smile sat at a tiny desk. Her name tag read Toru Hagakure. She was fully visible — her Quirk hadn't awakened yet — and she was gripping her pencil like it might bite her.
Katzo walked in.
---
Morning chaos.
The teacher, a tired man named Mr. Aoki whose Quirk let him grow extra arms (currently hidden, thankfully), assigned seats alphabetically. Katzo ended up next to Toru.
"You're Katzo?" she whispered.
"Last time I checked."
She giggled. "I'm Toru. Do you have a Quirk?"
"Yeah. I don't stink."
She blinked. "That's… a Quirk?"
"I never have bad breath. Or body odor. Or dirty hands." He held up his palms, which were indeed immaculate. "It's called Germ Eater."
Toru stared. Then she burst out laughing. "That's the weirdest Quirk I've ever heard!"
"Better than nothing," Katzo said, grinning.
Across the room, a boy sneezed so hard he accidentally inflated his cheeks like a pufferfish. Toru gasped. Katzo just shrugged.
Preschool Quirks are weird, he thought. But mine is weirder.
---
Recess.
Katzo found Bakugo and Izuku in the yard. Bakugo was already trying to make sparks in front of a small crowd.
"Watch this!" Pop. Tiny smoke. The kids oohed.
"I can do bigger," Bakugo insisted. "I just need to —" Pop. Same size.
"Wow, Kacchan," Katzo said, walking up. "So impressive. You almost lit a leaf on fire."
"SHUT UP, KATZO."
Izuku tugged Katzo's sleeve. "How's your class?"
"Fine. There's a girl named Toru. She's nice. Her Quirk isn't awake yet."
"Neither is mine," Izuku said, but he didn't sound sad. Not anymore. "Mom says it'll come when I'm ready."
Katzo nodded. "Yeah. Or maybe you'll unlock it through sheer willpower and crying."
Izuku laughed. "That's not how Quirks work."
"You don't know that."
Bakugo stomped over. "You're in the other class, right? Good. Stay there."
"Miss me already?"
"I'M GOING TO EXPLODE YOUR FACE."
"You can't even explode a leaf."
The bell rang. Katzo waved goodbye and walked back to Room 103, still smiling.
---
End of day.
Toru ran up to him at the gate. "Katzo! Do you want to be friends?"
"Sure." He shrugged. "But I switch houses every week. So I'm not always here."
"That's okay!" She beamed. "I'll find you anyway."
From across the yard, Bakugo yelled, "KATZO! YOUR AUNT IS HERE!"
Inko waved. Izuku was already holding her hand.
Katzo looked at Toru. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye!"
He walked toward Inko, glancing back once. Toru was already talking to another kid, her invisible future still hidden.
She'll be a hero someday, he thought. We all will. Or at least, we'll try.
He climbed into the car, smelled nothing (thanks to his Quirk), and let the day wash over him.
No HUD today. No countdown. Just school.
Not bad.