Chapter 1: Prolog
Chapter Text
It all started when Izuku turned four. His friends enthusiastically and energetically showed off their quirks every day, with Katsuki Bakugo leading the way. Katsuki blatantly boasted about his blasts and loudly proclaimed that he had the best quirk for becoming a hero. He enjoyed being the center of attention and never missed an opportunity to demonstrate his superiority to others, especially Izuku. Izuku and Katsuki used to be close friends, but since Katsuki developed his quirk, he seemed to have changed. He treated Izuku increasingly condescendingly, as if he were worth less because his own quirk had not yet appeared. It was hard for Izuku to understand why his friend had suddenly become so hostile, and it hurt him to see how far they had grown apart.
Inko Midoriya was starting to worry. She noticed that Izuku was often lost in thought lately, especially when the other kids were proudly displaying their quirks. But despite the difficulties, there was a spark of hope in him. Inko saw him talking about All Might with shining eyes and dreaming of becoming a great hero one day. Even on days when he was sad, he never seemed to give up on that dream. He continued to ask countless questions about quirks and heroes, and Inko hoped fervently that this unwavering spark of hope and curiosity would help him stay strong.
When Izuku turned five, Inko decided to take him to see a quirk doctor. It was unusual in his generation for a quirk not to have manifested itself by this age. In preschool, Izuku began to suffer increasingly from the teasing of the other children. Inko was particularly hurt that even Katsuki, the son of her best friend Mitsuki, teased her little angel. Not so long ago, Izuku and Katsuki had been inseparable. But during her friend's last few visits, Inko had noticed how Katsuki had changed around her son. She had overheard the little blastmaker call Izuku “Deku” several times – a nickname that meant something like “useless” and was a pejorative reading of his name. This change weighed heavily on her.
Inko knew how cruel children can be – and how much society discriminated against those without quirks. Even though there was officially no discrimination, people without quirks were often perceived as less valuable and useful. An incident she remembered well illustrated this clearly: a man without a quirk who worked for a government agency was regularly passed over when it came to responsible tasks. Although he was obviously competent and highly qualified, his colleagues did not seem to take him seriously. It was as if the mere absence of a quirk automatically devalued him. People without quirks usually only got poorly paid jobs – even if they had excellent grades and degrees.
Inko could never understand this injustice, especially since the use of quirks was strictly regulated in public. Outside of their own four walls, most people were hardly allowed to use their quirks. Only heroes had the right to use their quirks in public – and even they had to undergo a long and difficult training. For certain professions, it was possible to obtain a special permit to use a quirk, but this test was expensive, complicated and had to be renewed every three years.
Inko found it even harder to understand why quirkless people were so often discriminated against. Perhaps it was the media, which often subtly portrayed quirkless people as weaker, less resilient or even less intelligent. This thought weighed on her as she reflected on social inequality.
Izuku was wide awake early in the morning because today was the long-awaited visit to the quirk doctor. A mixture of excitement and nervousness had kept him up half the night. Would he finally learn what his quirk was? Or would it turn out that he was indeed quirkless and useless – just as Kaachan always said? These tormenting thoughts would not leave him.
“Mom, come on, we're going to be late!” Izuku urged impatiently, his voice full of excitement – similar to when he wanted to persuade her to watch All Might's debut video for the thousandth time.
“Take it easy, my little darling. We still have plenty of time,” Inko reassured him with a smile, while she searched her handbag one last time to make sure she had everything important with her.
A few minutes later, mother and sons left the small apartment and got into the car. Izuku stared out the window during the drive, but the passing cityscape could hardly distract him. His thoughts raced: What if it turned out that he didn't have a special quirk? Would he ever be able to impress his friends? Would Kaachan finally stop teasing him? Beads of sweat gathered in his hands, while hope and fear wrestled with each other like two irreconcilable voices in his head.
The drive to the doctor's office was short. Izuku sat quietly in his child seat, his small hands clenched around the armrests. His gaze wandered out the window as houses and people passed by. The steady hum of the engine had a calming effect, even if his thoughts did not. He noticed colorful cars passing by quickly and birds balancing on the power lines. But even these small observations could not quell the excitement within him. His thoughts revolved around a single question: Would he finally find out if he had a quirk?
The doctor's waiting room was a welcoming space, brightly lit and decorated with pastel-colored walls that created a calming atmosphere. A comfortable seating area with soft cushions invited you to linger, and colorful pictures of children happily presenting their quirks hung on the walls. In one corner of the room was a shelf filled with toys – building blocks, stuffed animals and small cars – that suggested that young patients in particular visited this doctor. The warm light enhanced the pleasant effect of the room.
Izuku let his eyes drift to the toys, but he wasn't interested in them. His thoughts were much too occupied with imagining what the doctor would say about his quirk. With each passing year, it became less and less likely that a quirk would appear, but Inko had not given up hope. There were cases, albeit rare ones, in which quirks appeared later or turned out to be different over time than initially assumed. However, these developments usually occurred in people who worked intensively with their quirks – something that rarely occurred in the everyday lives of most people.
Inko and Izuku didn't have to sit in the waiting room for long, as they had arrived at the doctor's on time, as Inko had carefully planned. “Midoriya?” called a young, friendly smiling nurse who appeared in the door. “You can go through to the examination room and sit down. The doctor will be with you in a moment.”
The examination room was simple but clean and functional. Izuku looked around curiously as he sat down on one of the chairs. His legs dangled excitedly back and forth while Inko placed her hand on his in a reassuring manner.
A few minutes later, the door opened and the doctor entered the room. He was an older, corpulent man with a round face, thinning hair and a moustache. His smile was warm and reassuring, and his gentle eyes radiated a patient kindness. He approached his desk with deliberate steps and nodded encouragingly to Inko and Izuku.
“Good morning, Midoriya family,” the doctor greeted them warmly as he closed the door behind him and sat down at his desk. He studied the information on his tablet for a moment before looking up.
“I have good news, Mrs. Midoriya,” the doctor said with a smile after glancing briefly at his tablet. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Inko involuntarily held her breath and Izuku leaned forward eagerly. The doctor let the silence sink in before finally continuing, ”According to the blood tests, your son definitely has a quirk.”
Inko let out a sigh of relief, not realizing that she had been holding her breath. A feeling of relief washed over her as she unconsciously squeezed Izuku's hand a little tighter.
Izuku, on the other hand, could hardly stay in his chair. He jumped up, excitedly tugged at his mother's blouse, and jumped up and down with joy. His eyes lit up, and a broad smile spread across his face. All the doubts and burdens of the past few weeks suddenly fell away. He felt valuable, strong – and finally validated.
“Mom! Mom! I have a quirk! I have a quirk, Mom!” he shouted, his eyes shining as his heart pounded with joy.
Inko couldn't help but smile as she watched him. The tension of the last few weeks had not only fallen from her, but also from him. She gently stroked his shoulder and nodded. ”Yes, my darling, you have.”
The doctor smiled, letting the joy take effect for a moment, and then continued calmly: “However, we still don't know exactly what your son's quirk does. The blood tests have detected a kind of energy in his body – something that is previously unknown. The amount of this energy was still very small, but it suggests that his body is designed to create and use it. Presumably, Izuku will figure out what his quirk is capable of over time.”
Inko listened carefully as the doctor looked at his tablet and added more information. “We have classified the quirk as an emitter type. However, it is interesting to note that Izuku's body shows several anatomical adaptations. Particularly striking is an additional circulatory system that resembles the bloodstream, but appears to be specifically responsible for this energy. It seems to be designed to conduct the energy through the body and use it.”
Inko's forehead furrowed as she tried to process the information. “A separate circulatory system for this energy? Is that something we need to worry about?” she asked cautiously.
The doctor shook his head slightly. “Not at this point. Such mutations are not uncommon in quirks that generate or convert energy. The system appears to be stable, and we have found no evidence that it could affect Izuku's health. Nevertheless, I recommend that we examine it again in a few years to make sure that everything remains in order.”
Izuku listened carefully to the doctor's explanations, even though he didn't fully understand much of it. His thoughts revolved around one thing: he had a quirk. And he couldn't wait to find out what it could do.
Inko frowned slightly before asking the doctor, “I don't understand, Doctor. Neither my husband's quirk nor my quirk resembles Izuku's quirk. My husband can breathe fire, and I can draw small objects toward me.”
The doctor nodded sympathetically. “Your son's quirk seems to have developed independently of yours or your husband's. This is no longer the norm these days, but it happens often enough not to be unusual. A well-known example would be a man who developed a completely new quirk that came from neither his mother nor his father. He can influence metal magnetically, although his parents have a quirk for water and a quirk for plants. Such spontaneous developments are still part of the incredible diversity of quirks.”
Izuku listened carefully to his mother's conversation with the doctor, even though he didn't fully understand everything. As the two talked for a while, countless questions swirled through his mind: What exactly did this energy mean? Was it useful or perhaps even dangerous? Would it help him become a hero, just like he had always wanted to be? A feeling of confusion mixed with the hope that his quirk could be something very special. Although he was happy to finally have a quirk, he wasn't sure what it could really do.
On his way back to the car, he couldn't get the thought out of his head whether his quirk would impress the other children at preschool. So far, he hadn't had anything to impress Kaachan or the others with. Katsuki could create explosions with his sweat – a spectacular and powerful quirk. The other two boys in Katsuki's group also had abilities that were easy to show: One had red wings and could at least float a little, the other could stretch his fingers to three to four times their length. Izuku, on the other hand, had an ominous energy – that might sound interesting, but without showing something tangible, the others would probably think he was lying and didn't really have a quirk.
Before they even got home, Izuku was determined to figure out how his quirk worked. He wondered if he could concentrate the energy in his hands or if it would show up spontaneously like it did with Kaachan. Maybe he could do little tests by trying to move or change something – anything that would prove that his quirk was real and useful. The weekend was ahead of him – it was Saturday morning, and preschool didn't start again until Monday.
While they were walking to the car, Inko noticed how pensive her son was. She was relieved that he now had a quirk, but at the same time, she felt a little ashamed of that thought. To her, Izuku had always been lovable – with or without a quirk. But now that those worries had finally been laid to rest, she decided to do something special for him. Before they went home, she stopped to do some shopping. She wanted to make katsudon, his favorite food, to show him how much she loved him, especially now that she sensed he was worried about his quirk and what it meant.
During the shopping and the rest of the way home, Izuku remained deep in thought. Occasionally, he murmured softly to himself as he continued to wonder what his quirk could do and how he would prove it to the others.
When they arrived home, Izuku shouted, “I'm going to practice, Mom!” and disappeared straight into his room. Even as he hurried down the hallway, he imagined in his mind how he could feel the mysterious energy within him and perhaps even control it. The idea of finally being able to show something impressive at preschool on Monday filled him with a mixture of hope and determination. His eyes sparkled with ambition as he closed the door behind him.
Inko called after him to say that his favorite meal, katsudon, would be served later, but she wasn't sure if he had heard her at all. She stood still for a moment in the quiet apartment, looked at the closed door and sighed. Her thoughts turned to her husband. Should she tell him the news? The doctor had confirmed that Izuku had a quirk – a real chance of becoming a hero one day, like all the other children. But would he be proud of it? Or would he dismiss it, perhaps even react pejoratively? These conflicting thoughts tore her apart inside, and she couldn't decide whether it would be better to write to him or remain silent.
For years, her relationship with her husband had been little more than a shadow of its former self. Officially, they were still married, but the emotional distance was unmistakable. Two years ago, he had moved to America for his work – originally for a year, but the length of stay was extended again and again. Three months ago, Inko finally found out that he was cheating on her. The moment she learned about it, it felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under her feet. Her heart was racing and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still around her. She could hardly breathe and her thoughts kept revolving around the betrayal.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and everything that had held her world together until then shattered into a thousand pieces. The shock subsided after a few minutes, but the emptiness and pain remained – not just for hours or days, but for weeks. During this time, everything around her felt as if it were shrouded in a dense fog that prevented her from thinking clearly or looking ahead. The plans and hopes she had once shared with her husband suddenly seemed hollow and meaningless. It took a while before she found a way to turn the pain into anger – an anger that gave her the strength to move forward.
They usually spoke on the phone at fixed times, coordinated with the time difference. But one evening, when Inko witnessed Izuku suffering from teasing and feeling helpless, she decided to call her husband spontaneously. She wanted to talk to him, tell him about the pain her son was going through. But when she dialed the number, it was not a familiar voice that answered, but that of a strange woman.
It was late at his place, and the woman spoke English in a cheerful, almost sleepy voice. Inko paused for a moment before answering in Japanese: “Excuse me, I wanted to speak to my husband...”
There was a sudden silence at the other end of the line. After a startled hiccup, the woman hung up. Inko stared at the phone as if it could provide her with an explanation. But she knew what it meant. She was hit hard by the stab of disappointment, and the bitter taste of reality crept up on her – a truth she had tried so hard to suppress for so long.
After the incident, she and her husband had a huge argument, which eventually led to them both agreeing that a divorce was the best solution for everyone. At first, Inko was very afraid that her soon-to-be ex-husband might try to take Izuku away from her. But she quickly realized that he had no interest in doing so. On the one hand, she was relieved, because she knew that she could keep Izuku with her. On the other hand, she felt a deep sense of disappointment. It hurt her that his father showed so little interest in the wonderful boy that Izuku was. This lack of commitment hurt her more than she wanted to admit to herself. She secretly wondered if it was because Izuku hadn't shown any quirk yet.
Inko decided not to tell her estranged husband about her son's quirk — at least not until the divorce was finalized and custody was settled. That shouldn't take much longer; all the paperwork was already prepared and just needed to be signed. Her soon-to-be ex-husband would pay child support — just enough to cover the rent. For the time being, she would have to find a small side job to make up the rest. As soon as Izuku started school, she planned to take a full-time job to better manage the financial burden.
That evening, Izuku enjoyed his favorite meal, katsudon, and was full of joy and confidence for the coming week. Everything seemed possible all of a sudden. But with every hour that passed without him noticing the slightest reaction from his quirk, the initial euphoria faded. His forehead furrowed as he tried again and again. He wanted to feel the mysterious energy within him, control it, prove something – but nothing happened.
Finally, exhausted and discouraged, he sank to the floor. Tears welled up in his eyes, and the overwhelming disappointment weighed heavily on him. At that moment, he felt just as useless as before. All his hopes of impressing the other children with his quirk seemed to be nothing but a distant, unattainable dream. With a heavy, queasy feeling, he went to bed on Sunday evening. The joy of Monday and preschool was as if extinguished.
The next morning, Inko gently drew back the curtains and the soft light of the rising sun filled the room. “Izuku, wake up, my darling,” she said gently, while she shook his shoulder lightly. But Izuku's concerns had hardly diminished overnight. He still wished he had had more time to practice before he had to face Kaachan and his friends.
Unfortunately, Izuku had already told the others about his visit to the quirk doctor. The reactions to this had been unsurprising – Katsuki and the others had only laughed at him and made insulting comments. Now Izuku knew that he had to prepare himself for an unpleasant conversation. His mood worsened when he remembered what Bakugo had said to him the last time they met:
“Deku, what's the point? The doctor won't tell you anything different. We all already know that you're flawed and useless and always will be.”
With those words in his head, Izuku got up and shuffled into the bathroom, where he mechanically got ready while the queasy feeling in his stomach grew.
After he had finished in the bathroom, he went to the kitchen. There, Inko was preparing a traditional Japanese breakfast for them, as she did every morning. She stirred the miso soup, laid out the nori and prepared the steaming rice. The enticing aroma of freshly grilled salmon filled the room, creating a warm, homely atmosphere. Yet Inko couldn't ignore the slight shadows under Izuku's eyes, nor the silence that emanated from him.
He sat silently at the table, gazing at the floor as his mind drifted. Inko watched him with growing concern. She wondered how she could help her son, who was struggling so much with himself, and desperately sought a way to put a smile on his face. But she knew she couldn't force him to talk about his worries – she could only be there for him and hope that he felt her support.
Inko noticed the concern in her son's eyes. Even though Izuku tried to hide it, she could feel the burden he was carrying as a mother. She knew he wasn't telling her the whole truth, but she didn't want to press him. Instead, she decided to give him space. Izuku, in turn, saw the deep understanding and warmth in his mother's eyes. This silent support gave him the courage to push the sad thoughts aside for a moment. With a small, this time more sincere smile, he began to eat. The lovingly prepared breakfast distracted him and helped him to focus on something positive.
As he took the first bite, Izuku felt a tiny flame of hope flare up inside him. Today might not be perfect, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew he would find the strength to carry on. He had a quirk – maybe it wasn't strong yet, not yet visible to the world. But he was determined to understand it and use it. Eventually, he hoped, he would not only impress his friends but also change the world.
After Inko dropped him off at preschool and gave him a firm, consoling hug goodbye, Izuku spotted Katsuki and his friends waiting for him. For a moment, he felt a wave of relief. As long as his mother was around, he knew that Kacchan would hold back. Her presence was like an invisible shield that gave him security. Izuku clung to this feeling of security, as if it were a saving anchor.
It was a strange phenomenon how Bakugo behaved around Izuku's mother. His usual aggressive demeanor gave way to an almost tense calm. He stood stiffly, his hands deep in his pockets, as if he was pulling himself together with all his might so as not to make a scene. His eyes wandered restlessly around, and every now and then he bit his lips briefly, as if he wanted to say something, but then controlled himself. For Izuku, it was fascinating to see how Inko's mere presence influenced Katsuki's behavior so strongly. It was as if her presence drew an invisible line that Katsuki did not dare to cross.
Izuku remembered how different it was when he visited Katsuki at home. With his own family, Katsuki was unabashedly loud and impulsive, and conversations with his mother often ended in heated arguments. The insults flew back and forth, and the tension in the room was palpable. Masaru Bakugo, Katsuki's father, usually sat quietly and reservedly next to him, hardly saying a word. Nevertheless, both Katsuki's mother and father had always been friendly to Izuku. It almost felt as if they had accepted him as a silent observer of their turbulent household – a part of their everyday life that brought brief moments of normality.
Izuku waved goodbye to his mother as her car rounded the corner and finally disappeared from his field of vision. As soon as she was gone, Katsuki approached him, hands in his pockets, his usual arrogant grin on his lips. “Hey, Deku... So? Are you finally crazy?” he asked with his arms crossed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of curiosity and what Izuku thought was nervousness. For a brief moment, it almost seemed as if Kacchan was actually unsure. But the expression disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Katsuki had put his smug mask back on.
Izuku swallowed and felt his heart beat faster. “Yes, Kacchan,” he began cautiously, “the doctor said I have a screw loose.” For a split second, he saw a tiny smile cross Katsuki's face – real and unfiltered. “That's great,” Katsuki whispered so softly that Izuku almost thought he had imagined it. But immediately Katsuki cleared his throat and continued with a louder, demanding tone: ”Then show us what you can do.”
The words made Izuku stop. Panic shot through his body like a wave. His heart pounded violently in his chest, his hands trembled slightly. Katsuki had really been happy, hadn't he? Had he perhaps hoped that Izuku really could do something? Or was it just a mask, another game? Izuku didn't know. The insecurity gnawed at him, and the fear of disappointing Katsuki lay like a heavy burden on his shoulders.
“The doctor said that my quirk is... some kind of energy that's in my body,” Izuku finally began to explain, his voice trembling. Why did he have to start stuttering now? He felt his words slipping away. ”But... I haven't been able to produce anything yet.”
With every word, he watched Katsuki's expression change. The initial interest and hint of pride gave way to disappointment. Finally, only contempt remained. Katsuki snorted and spat out the words like poison: “Just as I thought, Deku.” The nickname Katsuki had given him sounded harsher and more hurtful than ever. “We've all been using our quirks for a year now and they've been working. But you? You can't even do a little with yours. You really are useless.”
Izuku felt tears well up in his eyes as he tried to suppress the rising wave of shame and disappointment. But Katsuki's words had cut him deeply, and the weight of his insecurities suddenly felt crushing. Still, he raised his head, his voice quivering but full of determination: “Kacchan, I'll learn to use my quirk. I'll become a hero, I just know it! I... I can feel it!”
His words hung in the air, and although his heart was racing, Izuku stood firm. He would not give up, even though Kachan's contempt hit him harder than he wanted to admit.
Katsuki's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. Almost shouting, he hurled the words at Izuku: “You? A hero? Forget it! A hero needs a strong quirk, like me! Not a whining baby like you! What was I thinking, that we could become heroes together? You're just a millstone around my neck!”
With these words, Katsuki turned around abruptly and marched in the direction of preschool. His friends, who had watched the whole scenario in silence, gave Izuku a quick, hesitant glance, as if they wanted to say something. But not one of them spoke a word. Instead, they hurried after Katsuki without even looking back.
Izuku remained frozen. The words echoed in his head, each of them stinging like a knife. Finally, he collapsed, tears streaming down his face. Everything inside him hurt – not only the words, but also the cold certainty that Katsuki had actually given up on him. It felt like a part of him had broken, a part he could no longer put back together.
A counselor who had noticed him hurried over. When she saw Izuku sitting in front of the school building, crying, she carefully knelt down next to him. Her voice was gentle and full of concern. “Izuku, what happened? Are you all right?” she asked soothingly. But Izuku couldn't answer. The words stuck in his throat like a lump, his sobs barely letting him catch his breath.
It took quite a while before he was even able to respond to her questions. Finally, with a slight sob, he shook his head. “No... please don't call my mother,” he murmured softly. His voice was shaky, but firm. He didn't want to worry his mother. He didn't want her to worry about him anymore. “I feel better,” he added, although his shaky voice gave him away.
The caretaker looked at him sympathetically. She obviously didn't believe him, but she didn't push him further. Instead, she stayed at his side for a moment before giving him a gentle look and finally going back into the building. Izuku remained alone, trying to gather himself, and swearing quietly that one day he would prove everyone wrong.
The day dragged on like chewing gum for Izuku, every minute seemed to last forever. None of the other children spoke to him, not even fleetingly. During the breaks, he sat alone on a bench and watched from afar as the other children laughed and played. The feeling of isolation gnawed at him, relentlessly and heavily. It was especially painful to see his former friends enjoying themselves together, as if he had never belonged. The counselor tried to start a conversation with him a few times, but Izuku barely responded. His gaze remained downcast, and he withdrew into his own silent world.
That afternoon, when Inko picked up her son, she immediately sensed that something was wrong. His face was blank, his shoulders drooped, and he avoided looking her in the eye. She carefully put him in the car and said, “Izuku, wait in the car for a moment. I want to talk to your teacher for a moment.”
However, the counselor was unable to tell the worried mother much about the background to the incident. She only knew that there had been an argument between Izuku and another child that morning. But since she hadn't witnessed the fight herself and none of the other children were willing to talk about it, much remained unclear. What she had observed, however, was the subdued mood that had accompanied Izuku throughout the day. She added that Izuku did not want to be picked up despite everything. Inko was surprised. Why didn't her son want her to call, even though he was obviously unwell? She worried that Izuku, even at just five years old, thought he shouldn't cause his mother any trouble, even when he was suffering.
At home, Inko tried to talk to Izuku about the day, but she could hardly get anything out of him. With the information from the caregiver, she was able to piece together a rough picture of the situation, but many details remained unclear. She wondered if it would help to talk to Mitsuki, Katsuki's mother. But her hopes for a solution were slim. Inko knew from experience that Katsuki was hardly influenced by his mother. She had often noticed how stubborn and strong-willed the boy was.
Nevertheless, Inko talked to Mitsuki about the incident. Mitsuki bluntly explained to her that Katsuki apparently no longer wanted to be friends with Izuku. But Inko sensed that this was only the “watered down” version of the truth. Mitsuki, with her loose mouth and often rough manner, rarely let herself be seen. Her methods of education were loud and brusque, and it was easy to see where Katsuki got his spirited demeanor from. Nevertheless, Mitsuki assured Inko that she had spoken to her son and that he would be more restrained around Izuku in the future.
In the following weeks, Inko watched her son closely. Izuku continued to go to preschool, despite what had happened. At least a few days after the incident, he didn't seem any worse. He began to smile a little more, even if these smiles often seemed weak and forced. Inko was not sure whether he was really over it or just trying to keep up appearances. But she respected his desire to continue going to preschool and stayed close to him to give him all the support she could.
For the next three years, Izuku was unable to elicit any visible reaction from his quirk. He could feel the energy inside him, like a faint, constant hum, and had the feeling that he could influence its concentration in certain areas of his body. It was particularly easy for him to direct the energy into his hands – but no matter how hard he tried or how intensely he concentrated, nothing happened.
Meanwhile, Izuku was attending Aldera Junior High with Katsuki and many other children from kindergarten. But Izuku hated this school. The teachers blatantly favored students with noticeable and strong quirks. On the other hand, anyone with a weak or inconspicuous quirk was at a disadvantage from the start. This unequal treatment was not a hidden system – it was actively supported by the teachers and obvious to everyone.
Students with powerful quirks were downright spoiled: their mistakes were generously overlooked, they received partial credit even if their answers were flawed, and were allowed to repeat tests without any problems, often without a valid reason. The message from the teachers was clear: if you had an impressive quirk, you were allowed to make mistakes. For the others, however, like Izuku, it was quite different. A small mistake, a poorly formulated sentence, meant immediate loss of points. And the possibility of retaking tests? For students like him, it was practically non-existent.
This injustice was hard for Izuku to bear. Every day, he witnessed how the system favored those who were already strong, while systematically disadvantaging the weaker ones. The teachers were clever – their favoritism was obvious enough to be frustrating, but never so clear that they could be held accountable for it.
The entire school system seemed designed to further strengthen the strong, while the weak either had to adapt or perish. For Izuku, it was like running into an invisible wall – a wall that kept pushing him back no matter how hard he tried.
Izuku knew that if his quirk wasn't strong enough, he would have to convince with his wits. One day, when the teacher asked a particularly difficult question and the class remained in an awkward silence, Izuku raised his hand. He explained the solution clearly and precisely, without hesitation. For a brief moment, there was absolute silence in the classroom. But instead of earning recognition or respect, he was met only with annoyed looks.
Finally, snide comments broke the silence as some classmates vented their frustration. Even the teacher nodded in approval, but there was no sign of appreciation in his eyes. Izuku felt how his attempt to gain respect through knowledge backfired – instead of admiration, he earned resentment. Nevertheless, he decided not to give up.
His determination did not impress either the teachers or his classmates. It seemed that the harder he tried, the more they despised him. The fact that someone like Izuku, who they considered weak, excelled academically did not sit well with them. But Izuku's grades spoke for themselves – he outperformed most of his classmates, with only one exception: Bakugo.
At first, the teachers tried to undermine Izuku's progress by deducting points for even the smallest details, often for ridiculous reasons. But then his mother got involved. Izuku was there when she went to the school board to complain. Usually the kindest person Izuku knew, his mother turned into a fierce fighter. She spoke with a determination and strength Izuku had never seen in her before. The school administration initially refused to take her complaints seriously, but when Inko threatened to involve the school board, they finally relented.
It was a moving moment for Izuku. Seeing his mother fight for him gave him new courage and made him realize that he was not alone. But with the school's decision to stop sabotaging his grades, his real problems began.
The teachers now left his grades alone, but Izuku became a target. The strong students, but also weaker ones who feared the wrath of the more powerful, made it a habit to bully him. At first, Bakugo stayed out of the action, but that changed abruptly when Izuku once prevented Bakugo from bullying another student.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Bakugo hissed at the time, while his explosions crackled dangerously close to Izuku's face. ”If you interfere again, I'll get you!”
Izuku held Bakugo's gaze, even though his knees trembled with fear. But from that day on, he was the main target of Bakugo's anger and aggression. The situation at school, which had already been difficult, became a daily struggle for Izuku, which he only survived with an unwavering will.
Bakugo's targeted attacks completely isolated Izuku. His refusal to intentionally perform worse, as was expected of him, drove even the few weaker students who had previously remained neutral to turn away from him. Friendships? For Izuku, this was a distant, unattainable dream. Instead, he regularly became the target of whispers and quiet laughter as he passed groups of students who followed him with mocking glances.
The teachers, who were supposed to protect him, consistently ignored his suffering. Worse still, Izuku had to witness more than once how a teacher looked the other way with a satisfied smile on his face while Bakugo and his cronies harassed him.
At first, Izuku tried to stand up for himself. But when Bakugo pushed him up against the wall during recess one day and came dangerously close, Izuku decided to seek help from a teacher. Hoping that his concerns would finally be heard, he explained to her what had happened. But instead of support, he only received an annoyed look.
“Izuku,” she began, folding her arms across her chest as she looked down at him, ‘you need to learn to get along better with your classmates. Maybe you're provoking them unconsciously. Have you ever thought about that?’ Her words hit him like a blow. She shook her head as if he were a stubborn child and turned away without waiting for an answer.
Izuku remained frozen, staring at the floor and biting his lip to hold back the tears that welled up. The message was clear: his worries and pain were not being taken seriously. Teachers always sided with the strong. They twisted reality so that the victims seemed like the guilty ones. Unlike tests, where clear evidence counted, there were no tangible traces of the bullying that Izuku could present. It was his word against theirs – a losing battle.
Again and again, Izuku received negative entries in his school file, while Bakugo, the darling of the school, got off scot-free. For the headmaster, Bakugo was the figurehead of Aldera Junior High – the shining student who would be the first to attend the prestigious U.A., Japan's most prestigious hero academy. Bakugo was the star, and Izuku was perceived only as a disruptive obstacle.
Despite all this injustice, Izuku did not lose heart. Even when he sat alone in his room late at night, the pain gnawed deep inside him and the loneliness was overwhelming, he always found the courage to strengthen himself. “Giving up is not an option. Not now, not ever,” he told himself each time, with unyielding resolve. He knew he had no choice but to keep fighting – not to prove anything to anyone but for himself.
A few months after Izuku's eighth birthday, his quirk first manifested itself in a visible way. In the middle of the night, a strange pain woke him from his sleep. It wasn't an ordinary headache—it felt as if something inside his skull was growing, relentlessly trying to find a way out. The throbbing pressure made him gasp for air, made him dizzy, and finally forced him to get out of bed, staggering.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face, but the relief he had hoped for did not come. The pain was relentless. With shaky hands, he ran a careful hand over his head – and froze. Where the pain was the strongest, he felt two hard lumps. They felt warm and pulsating, as if a strange energy was surging within them. Panic seized him. What was that? Could this be normal? Or was he... ill?
His hands trembled as he groped for the light switch, but his fingers did not find it. When he finally looked up, he noticed that the bathroom was not completely dark. Two small, turquoise lights were weakly illuminating the room – they came from his head, exactly where the bumps were.
Izuku gasped in shock and stumbled a few steps back. His reflection seemed to taunt him, the unreal glow of the lights making the whole thing even more frightening. “This... this can't be real!” he whispered desperately.
“Stop... please stop glowing!” he pleaded, closing his eyes and desperately trying to suppress the energy in his head, as he had already practiced on other parts of his body. But it didn't work. The pain didn't subside, the glow remained.
For minutes, he battled with the relentless force in his mind, but eventually, he collapsed on the floor, exhausted. His breathing was heavy and irregular, his chest rising and falling frantically. His limbs felt heavy and weak, as if all energy had drained from his body. The pressure in his head felt like it was crushing him, while his whole body trembled with exhaustion.
Izuku pulled his knees up to his chest, buried his head in them, and his hands trembled as he tried to suppress the panic. “What if this never goes away?” he thought desperately. “What if everyone can see it?” The thought made him shiver, even though the pain in his head overrode everything else.
Inko woke up during the night to the sounds coming from the bathroom. At first, she assumed that Izuku just had to go to the bathroom and would go right back to bed. But as the minutes passed and she heard neither footsteps nor the familiar sound of the closing door, a feeling of unease crept up in her. Worried, she swung the blanket aside and got up to check on her son.
No sooner had she left the bedroom than she heard a soft sob coming from the bathroom. An overwhelming protective instinct took hold of her, and she felt her hands begin to tremble slightly. A thousand questions shot through her mind. “Why is Izuku crying in the middle of the night? What happened?” Despite her growing concern, she forced herself to remain calm.
The hallway was in complete darkness, only a faint turquoise glow seeped through the ajar bathroom door. Inko paused, leaned against the doorframe and gently knocked against it without looking into the room. “Izuku, my darling, is everything all right?” The sobbing stopped for a moment. “Good, he heard me,” she thought with relief. But when the silence continued and there was no answer, she tried again, her voice gentle and reassuring: “What happened? Can I come in?”
After a few seconds, Izuku's trembling voice was heard, interrupted by soft sobs: “My quirk... It hurts.” These words were enough to make Inko act. With a queasy feeling, she opened the door and froze when she saw her son.
Izuku was kneeling on the floor, powerless, his small body looked hunched over. His shoulders hung limply, and his eyes were red and swollen from tears. He looked up at his mother with a look of deep despair on his face, while his trembling lips tried to say something. Two large, glowing lumps on the sides of his head cast a faint turquoise glow on the bathroom walls.
Inko immediately lowered herself to him, wrapped her arms around him and gently pulled him into a firm embrace. “Don't worry, Izuku, everything will be fine,” she whispered, stroking his back reassuringly. “Does it hurt a lot?”
Izuku snuggled up to her, seeking comfort in her closeness, while tears still ran down his cheeks. “A little, it's getting less,” he finally answered quietly.
Inko held him close, felt his little body tremble, and spoke in a gentle voice, “Do you think you can hold out for a few more hours, my darling? I'll call the doctor right away, and I'm sure we can get an appointment quickly.”
Izuku nodded weakly before asking, confused, ”What about school?”
Inko smiled to herself – her son was so dutiful, even in a situation like this. But at the same time, her concern grew. What if he was seriously ill? Gently, she put a hand on his shoulder. “You're not going to school today, Izuku. I'll call them later and sort it out.” Izuku took a deep breath, and a hint of relief crossed his face. “Can you go back to sleep, or would you like to have tea with me and watch a little TV until the sun comes up?” Inko asked with a loving smile.
“That sounds great,” Izuku replied quietly, wiping away the last of his tears with his hand. A warm wave of relief washed over him, and the tension that had been weighing on him like a heavy stone began to lift. As they walked together towards the living room, he suddenly asked, still with a small sob in his voice, ”Can I have a cap?”
Inko paused and looked at him in surprise, confused for a moment. “A cap? Why do you want a cap? You don't have to hide from me.” Izuku hesitated, searching for the right words. His thoughts felt jumbled, and he didn't fully understand why he felt this urge himself. “It's not because of that... I don't know exactly,” he finally stammered, unable to explain the feeling.
Inko nodded sympathetically. ”It's all right, my darling. I'll get you a cap.”
She lovingly covered Izuku on the sofa with a blanket and handed him the remote control. “Choose something, I'll bring you your tea in a moment.” In the kitchen, she put on water for the tea and then began looking for a suitable cap in an old drawer in the hallway. The selection was meager – neither she nor Izuku had been big cap wearers so far. Izuku did have some All Might fan caps, but they were bound to be too tight and would only press on the painful bumps. Finally, in the far corner of the drawer, she came across an old fishing hat belonging to her ex-husband. “That should do for a start,” she murmured to herself, dusting the hat off.
A soft click from the kettle reminded her to make the tea. She added a small spoonful of honey to sweeten it a little before taking it to the living room. “Here you go, darling,” she said gently as she placed the tea on the table in front of Izuku. Then she held up the hat to him. “What do you think, will this do for now?”
Izuku nodded, and Inko gently placed the hat on his head. As soon as she put it on, Izuku visibly relaxed. The tension left his face and he seemed much more relaxed. “He really seems to be feeling better,” Inko thought with relief.
Her gaze wandered to the TV to see which program Izuku had chosen. She smiled when she recognized a repeat of an interview with All Might. Izuku had this extraordinary talent of finding the only program in which All Might appeared, even in the middle of the night.
When she looked at her son again, she noticed that he had already fallen asleep. “He must be completely exhausted,” she thought gently, ‘especially if he falls asleep during a program with All Might. But he probably already knows this interview inside out.’ Inko rearranged the blanket and sat with him for a moment before getting up quietly to let him sleep in peace.
As expected, they got an appointment with their usual quack doctor that same morning. After a thorough examination, the doctor quickly came to the conclusion that the bumps on Izuku's head were not dangerous. An X-ray showed that no bone tissue had formed under the bumps. Instead, the doctor suspected that they were filled with Izuku's energy, which also explained the glowing shimmer. As a precaution, he refrained from taking a direct sample. Since the bumps had formed symmetrically and simultaneously, the doctor ruled out an uncontrolled outbreak of madness. He was also unable to detect any other accumulations of energy. To relieve the pain, he prescribed mild painkillers. He assumed that the energy would penetrate the scalp in the next few days.
For Izuku, the visit to the doctor went without a hitch at first. He even seemed to be in relatively good spirits – at least until the doctor asked him to take off his hat to examine the bumps more closely. His mood changed abruptly. It took a lot of coaxing from his mother before he reluctantly agreed and took off his hat.
Inko was puzzled by her son's sudden change of mood. Later, she asked the doctor for his opinion and also mentioned Izuku's behavior that morning. The doctor explained that it could possibly be a kind of instinctive behavior. With mutation quirks, it was not uncommon for them to be accompanied by uncharacteristic instincts. If she was seriously concerned, he recommended seeing a quirk psychologist.
But Inko decided not to pursue this suggestion for the time being. The urge to wear a hat did not seem worrying to her. After all, she had colleagues with mutation quirks at work, and many of them also displayed unusual behavior or habits.
For the moment, Inko decided to keep Izuku at home until the situation with his quirk had stabilized. She wasn't too worried about him missing anything at school. Her son was way ahead of the other kids in his class anyway. To her regret, Izuku hadn't made any new friends in recent years, spending a lot of time studying instead. In addition to his schoolwork, he devoured every piece of information about heroes he could get, and had been collecting them in his notebooks for years. What had initially started out as childish scribbles had now become amazingly precise analyses – particularly impressive for an eight-year-old.
In the days that followed, what the doctor had predicted came true: the energy in Izuku's head continued to spread. One afternoon, while he was sitting at his desk, eagerly taking notes in one of his hero notebooks, a strong tingling sensation suddenly shot through him. It started gently, but quickly became more intense, turning into a throbbing pain that took his breath away.
With a startled “Ouch... what is that?”, Izuku dropped the pen and grabbed his head. His face contorted in pain, as if an invisible force was raging inside his skull. The sensation grew, like an unstoppable wave racing through his head and displacing every clear thought.
Suddenly, a scream escaped him as the pain reached its peak. In his panic, he hastily leaned back, causing his chair to tip over and him to land roughly on the floor. While he was still trying to orient himself, a bright turquoise light flooded the room, so bright that it bathed the walls and furniture in an unreal glow.
Then it happened. A sharp, almost unbearable pain shot through his head – only to disappear abruptly the next moment, as if someone had flipped a switch. Panting, Izuku lay on the floor, his heart pounding in his chest, while he tried to grasp the sudden calm. But something was different. A soft, turquoise light filled the room, casting flickering patterns on the walls and seemingly permeating the air with a strange energy.
Izuku slowly raised a trembling hand to rub his head, but then he noticed something strange. A glowing flicker, floating at the edge of his field of vision, caught his attention.
“What... what is that?” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. He carefully sat up, his movements hesitant, as if he was afraid of driving away the light. But when his gaze fell on the window, he was speechless.
An incredible sight was reflected in the glass: above his head floated two glowing forms that looked like wings, woven from pulsating turquoise light. Their elegant, curved contours radiated a mixture of strength and beauty, interspersed with spiral patterns that pulsated with a rhythmic glow. They felt strangely familiar, as if they had always been a part of him, just waiting to be released.
While Izuku was still looking at the wings in amazement, he heard quick, hurried footsteps in the hallway. A few seconds later, his mother stormed into the room, alarmed by his scream and the loud crash of the overturned chair. “Izuku! Are you all right? What happened?” Her voice trembled with concern as her gaze swept the room – and then she froze. Her eyes widened when she saw the glowing wings floating out from her son.
Izuku turned to her, his green eyes shining with excitement and a small, proud smile on his lips. The pain was forgotten, replaced by a wave of wonder and an unexpected joy. “Mom, look... my quirk!” he exclaimed, his voice full of enthusiasm.
Inko stood rooted to the spot for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight. Then she broke out of her stupor and slowly approached. Her initial concern faded, replaced by relief and a touch of pride. She carefully crossed the room and gently embraced her son, without taking her eyes off the fascinating wings. “Izuku... they're beautiful,“ she whispered, her voice warm with affection as she stroked his back reassuringly.
“Do you really think so?” Izuku asked, his eyes glowing with excitement. “They feel... strong. And they look like real wings, don't they?” He broke away from his mother's embrace and turned to the window again to look at the wings in his reflection. A broad grin spread across his face. “I think I like them, Mom.”
Inko smiled and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Her gaze also wandered to the shimmering wings glowing in the turquoise light. Izuku looked at them thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to his mother. “Mom, I need a hat... one that covers the wings. The old fishing hat is definitely not suitable anymore.”
Inko frowned, then nodded with an understanding smile. “That's a good idea, Izuku. I'll sew you a hat. Do you already have an idea of what it should look like?”
Izuku thought for a moment and then said with a small smile, ”Maybe a simple hat, but with something like ears on it, so that the wings have enough space?”
Inko laughed softly, her smile warm and full of love. “I can do that. I'll get my fabric and make the best hat – something that suits you perfectly, my little hero.”
Izuku's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “That would be great, Mama! Thank you so much!” His joy was infectious, and Inko felt her heart overflow with pride and affection.
She stroked his hair gently once more and said with a soft smile, “Anything for my little hero.”
Sewing the hat turned out to be much more difficult than Inko had expected. The first attempt seemed successful at first, and Izuku was overjoyed to put on the new hat. But the very next day, it became apparent that the construction was not holding up: The ears of the cap began to disintegrate. It was clear that the fabric Inko usually used was no match for the intense energy Izuku's wings radiated. Fortunately, she had decided to keep her son at home for the rest of the week, giving her more time to find a solution.
The next day, Izuku and his mother went to the quirk doctor again, since they needed to update Izuku's quirk log anyway. But Inko was unsure how to broach the issue of the hat disintegrating. The visit proved more difficult than expected: now that the wings had fully unfolded, Izuku adamantly refused to show them to the doctor.
He couldn't explain exactly why this thought repulsed him so much. It was as if the wings were a deeply personal part of him, not meant for others to see. This feeling of revealing something so intimate and foreign made it impossible for him to show them. It wasn't fear that held him back, but an instinctive, deeply rooted need to protect this part of himself. Every time the doctor or his mother urged him, he just pulled his hat down over his head more tightly, as if it were the last barrier keeping him and his wings from the outside world.
“Come on, sweetheart, the doctor needs to look at your wings,” Inko said gently, trying to calm her son. But Izuku just shook his head and held the hat that his mother had sewn for him firmly on his head, as if it could shield him from the world. “I don't want to,” he murmured softly, almost defiantly, while he lowered his gaze to the ground.
Inko sighed heavily and turned to the doctor apologetically. “I'm really sorry, Doctor. Izuku is not usually so unruly. He's just been through so much lately, and I'm very worried about him.” Her voice sounded soft, but her face reflected the exhaustion that had accumulated over the last few days.
“It's all right, Ms. Midoriya, it's just another aspect of his quirk that I'll note,” the doctor said in a placating tone, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He began to explain, thoughtfully stroking his beard: “Regarding the problem with the headgear, I might have a solution. There are special fabrics that are made from the hair or blood of the person affected. These fabrics adapt to the quirks and are particularly robust.”
Inko frowned and replied in surprise, “I've never heard of that.” The doctor nodded slightly and continued, “I'm not surprised. Such materials are usually only used by heroes, as they are extremely expensive to produce. But there is a way to apply for government assistance in special cases.”
When Inko learned that these special fabrics were used primarily by heroes, she turned pale. The thought of how expensive such materials must be made her throat tight. Hero equipment and related services were known to be exorbitantly expensive, far beyond what she could ever afford. The mere idea of having to bear the costs made her hands tremble. “How am I going to pay for this?” she wondered to herself, as a wave of worry washed over her.
Finally, she gathered herself and asked in a firm but concerned voice, “What do we have to do to get government assistance?” The doctor stroked his beard again and nodded slowly. “You showed me the damaged hat, and I was able to measure residues of the energy,” he explained matter-of-factly. ”The measurements on Izuku's head also indicate that no ordinary fabric can withstand it in the long term, at least not if it is to remain flexible.”
“Of course, it would be easier if I could measure the wings directly, without Izuku wearing the hat,” the doctor remarked with a slightly tense smile. ‘But with the available data and my report, you can still submit the application. You can find the appropriate form online.’ Inko noticed the slight frustration in his expression and sensed that the doctor would have liked more detailed examinations or even samples.
“How long will it take for the application to be processed?” she finally asked, her voice sounded uncertain but determined. The doctor took a deep breath, visibly trying to remain patient. ”If the application is rejected, you will know within a few days. If it is approved, the entire procedure will take a few weeks. First, you will send blood and hair samples, which we will do here at the clinic. After that, you will receive an appointment with a specialized tailor in your area. I recommend bringing a sketch of the hat you want. The tailor will then take all the relevant measurements, and it will take another week or two for the hat to be completed.”
During the conversation, Izuku sat silently in his chair. He felt oppressed – he was uncomfortable about causing his mother trouble again, but the thought of showing his wings was unbearable for him. Even in front of his own mother, he found it difficult to reveal this part of himself.
When Inko finally stood up, bowed slightly to the doctor and thanked him for his time and help, Izuku started. Hastily, he jumped up as well, imitating her bow and holding his hat tightly with one hand. It was as if the hat represented an invisible barrier that protected him – not only from prying eyes, but also from his own insecurity. Holding it gave him a sense of control in a situation that was increasingly beyond his control.
It took three months before Izuku finally held the long-awaited hat in his hands. Although the government assistance was quickly granted, the company that produced the fabric from Izuku's DNA took longer than originally announced. There were apparently problems with production, and Izuku even had to provide blood and hair samples a second time.
These months were a time full of contradictions for Izuku – on the one hand, the best he had experienced in years, but on the other hand, extremely nerve-wracking. He enjoyed not having to go to school. He was able to study undisturbed at home, without bullying during breaks, without Katsuki pressing him against the wall, and without the disparaging looks of the teachers.
But at the same time, he felt severely restricted in his freedom. He could hardly leave the house because none of the caps his mother sewed lasted more than a day before they began to disintegrate. For this reason, he only wore them when absolutely necessary. However, his mother didn't want him to barricade himself completely in his room, and occasionally urged him to go outside. These trips were always uncomfortable for Izuku, as he constantly feared that his hat might suddenly vanish into thin air. His biggest worry, however, was running into Katsuki and his friends. The idea that Katsuki might rip the hat off his head just to annoy him was a nightmare for Izuku. Fortunately, this never happened, even though there were two dicey situations in which he was able to hide in time before he was discovered.
When the tailor finally called to say that the hat was ready, and his mother told him about it, Izuku was initially not very enthusiastic. He immediately realized that this meant he would have to return to school soon. His mother had emphasized from the start that studying from home permanently was out of the question. Although there were online school classes he could take, she didn't want him to isolate himself completely.
But when Izuku put on the new hat for the first time at the tailor's, he was surprised by what he felt. He suddenly realized how much energy he had previously lost without noticing. It felt as if he had been standing in the freezing cold before, only in thin clothes, and would now suddenly be wrapped in a warm snowsuit with a hood and thick boots. In that moment, Izuku decided never to take the hat off again.
The hat itself was unique. It completely enclosed his head and delicate wings without constricting them. The material was soft but incredibly sturdy, designed to isolate the energy of his wings. The “ears” on the sides were flexible and offered enough space for Izuku's wings. Their position changed depending on Izuku's state of mind: in relaxed moments they lay flat, but when he was excited or happy, they straightened slightly. The dark turquoise surface of the hat harmonized perfectly with the shimmering light of his wings, while white accents at the tips of the “ears” provided a subtle contrast.
This hat was more than just a head covering – it was a liberation. For the first time in a long time, Izuku felt safe. The headgear allowed him to move around freely without drawing attention to his wings and provided him with the protection he needed in his daily life.
The sun was shining brightly in the sky, not a single cloud was to be seen. Izuku was walking along his old way to school again after a long time. “Why do I have to go back to this school of all places?” the green-haired boy muttered and sighed heavily. “I can study much better at home. There I don't have to worry about teachers or classmates who try to spoil every success for me.”
His steps slowed as he continued to talk to himself. Izuku was still a little angry with his mother. He understood that she didn't want him to be alone all the time, but she didn't realize that he felt just as alone at Aldera High. People who ignored or bullied you were no cure for loneliness. “I just don't know how to explain this to her without her worrying,” he thought with a gloomy look.
Another worry tormented him: what if Kaachan or the others tore the new hat off his head? His mother had explicitly told the school administration that wearing the hat was necessary because of its quirk. Izuku knew that the teachers wouldn't dare to force him to take off his hat – not if they wanted to prevent his mother from interfering. She wouldn't accept any attempt to discriminate against her son, and the public would also have little sympathy for a teacher discriminating against a student because of his quirk.
For the students, however, the situation was different. They would be forgiven for misbehaving – after all, they were still young. Izuku did not expect much help from the teachers in this matter.
He made a firm decision: if someone tried to rip his hat off his head, he would fight back.
But it wasn't long before his resolve was put to the test. Kaachan and his friends were already waiting for him at the school gate. Mitsuki, Kaachan's mother, had probably told her son that Izuku would be going back to school that day. Izuku actually liked Mitsuki – despite her loose tongue, she had always been kind to him, and he was happy when she came to visit. But the fact that she had passed on such information was of no help to him at this moment.
“Well, who's back again? I had hoped you had finally realized how useless you are and given up school,” sneered Bakugo, arms folded and chin arrogantly raised. His friends in the background grinned spitefully, their eyes fixed on Izuku.
Izuku took a deep breath, summoned the courage he had mustered on the way over here, and replied firmly: “I didn't give up. I couldn't come to school for a while, but I continued my studies at home.”
Bakugo laughed briefly, an artificial, mocking laugh. “My mother told me that your quirk has finally manifested,” he said, mocking. “But of course it's manifesting itself in the most useless way possible.”
Izuku felt the words stick in his throat. He wanted to defend his quirk, but the truth was that he couldn't think of anything that made his energy wings useful. Maybe they could dimly illuminate a room, but even that seemed insignificant. And there was no way he would take off his hat to show them.
A malicious smile spread across Kaachan's face, growing wider with every second that Izuku failed to respond. “You see, useless. Not even you can think of anything to do with your quirk,” he sneered. Then he turned his head halfway over his shoulder to his friends. “And it's probably also butt-ugly. Why else would he hide it under a hat?”
Slowly, Kaachan turned his gaze back to Izuku, his smile disappeared, and his voice became threatening. “Then let's find out what he's hiding under his hat.”
Kaachan had never sounded so threatening before. He had often been angry or furious, but this tone of voice was different. Instinctively, Izuku backed away, only to bump into Kaachan's friends after a few steps. He had been concentrating so hard on Kaachan that he hadn't even noticed them positioning themselves behind him. With a smug grin, they hooked their arms under his and pulled him roughly away from the entrance gate. They knew that the teachers would hardly do anything, but no random passer-by was allowed to see what they were planning.
Izuku desperately tried to free himself from their grip, but even without Kaachan's help, they were too strong for him. When they were out of sight, Kaachan stepped forward and began to pull on Izuku's hat with both hands. Izuku wanted to press his own hands on the hat to protect it, but the boys were holding on too tightly. He could feel the fabric barely giving way despite Kaachan's efforts.
“Damn it! Why can't I get this thing off?” Kaachan hissed in frustration. His eyes sparkled with annoyance. ”Deku, did you glue that hat on?”
Izuku blinked in confusion. Of course he hadn't glued the hat on. But then he felt it – the energy of his wings seemed to have attached itself to the fabric like invisible threads, preventing Kaachan from taking it off.
The next moment, Kaachan grabbed the cloth ears of Izuku's hat and pulled with all his might. A sharp pain shot through Izuku, but before he could react, the unexpected happened: Kaachan was hurled several meters backward with force. For a moment, there was complete silence. Izuku blinked in confusion before realizing what had happened. He had instinctively let himself fall back and then pushed Kaachan away from him with a powerful kick to the stomach.
Kaachan's friends stared at him in disbelief. They had never seen anything like this before – Izuku had never fought back before. Unsure of what to do next, they loosened their grip on his arms. But the moment did not last long. Katsuki straightened up again, his eyes glowing with rage. Without a word, his friends realized that it was getting serious now, and they tightened their grip, pulling Izuku up again.
“How dare you kick me?” Katsuki hissed, taking threatening steps towards him. His voice was full of anger, and his gaze seemed to want to pierce Izuku. ”I'll show you your place in the world.”
Izuku tried to remain calm, but he felt his heart pounding against his ribs. “I... I didn't...” he began hesitantly, but Katsuki interrupted him. “Now you're not only useless, but also a villain!”
“I'm not a villain!” Izuku protested, his voice trembling but firm.
Katsuki laughed coldly and shook his head. “Oh yes, you are! I am the future number one hero. And anyone who attacks a hero is a villain! It is a hero's duty to punish villains!” His voice was loud and full of conviction, as if he wanted to convince the world around him that he was in the right.
From that day on, Izuku decided to stop using Katsuki's nickname, “Kaachan.” Instead, he called him only Bakugo—a clear distancing of the friendship they once shared. But even though Bakugo no longer held back, he never tried to knock Izuku's hat off again.
END OF PROLOGUE
Chapter 2: The first step (PART 1)
Summary:
Izuku begins his training for the U.A. entrance exam.
Notes:
Hello everyone, first of all, thank you for the many comments and kudos on the first chapter, it was very gratifying and motivating. As a result, the second chapter is a bit longer than I had originally intended. That's why I've split it into two parts. The second part is also already finished and just needs a bit of fine-tuning. I'll publish it next week.
I hope you like the second chapter too.
Chapter Text
At the beginning of April:
“Bakugo has gone too far! Advising me to make a leap of faith to get a useful quirk in my next life.” Bakugo smirked arrogantly, his arms folded as if he owned the world. His sparkling eyes radiated with mockery, and his tone dripped with arrogance. He revels in his superiority and takes pleasure in keeping others beneath him.
Izuku is boiling with rage. Bakugo has always humiliated him in every conceivable way, and the intensity of his cruelty has only increased over the years. It's the first day of their final year of middle school, and Bakugo wastes no time in demonstrating his dominance. Izuku can hardly believe that there was a time when they were almost inseparable, that was before Bakugo's quirk appeared and changed everything.
Now, every encounter with him is a fight. He turns every conversation into a power play, a spectacle that belittles Izuku in front of others. Even worse, the class and even the teachers willingly support Bakugo. Just this morning, the whole class laughed uproariously when the teacher mentioned that Izuku is also planning to take the entrance exam for U.A.
At the age of fourteen, Izuku feels as if he will never escape the shadow of humiliation. He has made progress and can now concentrate the energy of his quirk to the point where his palms glow. But that's no more than a faint turquoise light, barely enough to illuminate a dark room. “My quirk is hardly more useful than a glorified flashlight,” he thinks dejectedly.
The ears of his hat, which hides his sensitive wings, fall resignedly on his head. They immediately betray his mood, a peculiarity that sometimes drives Izuku to despair. It is almost impossible for him to hide his feelings, something that makes him particularly uncomfortable in situations like these. Even with great effort, he can only control the movement of his ears for a short time, a constant battle against himself.
Izuku runs across the schoolyard, his eyes tirelessly scanning the surroundings. His notebook is gone, along with all his thoughts, dreams and plans. His feelings rage like a storm inside him, anger, frustration and a quiet, stubborn hope that he will find the book after all. “How can Bakugo get away with this again and again?” he wonders as his gaze systematically searches every corner. “This notebook is so important, all my observations about heroes and villains, everything is in there.” The thought that Bakugo just threw it away as if it were worthless makes Izuku's hands tremble. ”How can someone be so reckless?”
With every step, his resolve sinks, a quiet, cynical voice in his head whispers to him that it's hopeless. “No,” Izuku thinks with grim determination, ”I will find it. And one day I will be strong enough that no one will be able to tear my dreams apart so easily.”
It was shortly after school let out when the chaos began. While packing up his things, Bakugo simply grabbed the book, singed it with his compass, and then threw it out the window. Of course, he laughed out loud as he did so, supported by his friends, who exchanged mocking comments about Izuku. The line about the swallow's leap is the height of their malice. Izuku took it all in his stride, bowing his head so as not to attract any further attention. But now, alone in the schoolyard, his anger continues to simmer.
“What would Bakugo's mother do if she had heard that?” he thinks. The idea brings a slight, bitter smile to his lips. She would probably have slapped him in the face and shouted at him. But that would hardly have bothered Bakugo, not with his attitude.
And his own mother? Izuku can hardly imagine seeing her really angry. She is always so gentle and calm and so concerned about him. But that's exactly what makes it difficult for him to tell her about his suffering. In recent years, he has kept the bullying to himself for the most part. She knows that he has no friends and sometimes comes home with torn clothes or minor injuries, but Izuku doesn't want to burden her any more. He wants to spare her grief and is therefore trying to get through it on his own.
“Just one more year,” Izuku thinks to himself, as he keeps scanning the surroundings. ‘Just one more year, and I'll never have to go back to that damn school again.’ The thought gives him a touch of comfort. If he passes the U.A. entrance exam, Bakugo will still be there, but it won't be the same. The U.A. is different. It is taught by professional heroes, people who have earned their position through hard work and impressive abilities. They impress with their strength, wisdom and dedication.
And the students? They are not your average classmates. They are aspiring heroes who share the same dream of protecting people and making the world a better place. The thought of this fills Izuku with a mixture of excitement and hope.
U.A. is known for its strict anti-bullying policy. No one, not even Bakugo, would be able to get away with such behavior there. U.A. is also the alma mater of All Might, the symbol of peace. If Izuku makes it there, he will not only feel a little closer to his idol, he will finally be in an environment that allows him to reach his full potential. This prospect gives him new strength and makes him speed up his pace.
However, if he doesn't make it to U.A., he'll get rid of Bakugo for good. Izuku has no illusions; Bakugo will surely pass the entrance exam. His grades are excellent, and unfortunately well deserved, as Izuku reluctantly has to admit. His flawless school record, on the other hand, is not his merit, but the result of a school that has swept dozens, if not hundreds, of Bakugo's offenses under the rug.
Finally, Izuku finds his notebook floating in the pond, with the koi nibbling away at it. “This isn't food, you stupid fish,” he mutters, and carefully fishes the notebook out of the water. “If I dry it in the sun, I might be able to save it. Or at least transfer the contents to a new notebook later.”
After the notebook has dried halfway, Izuku sets off for home. He wants to continue practicing. The fact that he has managed to make his hands glow motivates him. Somewhere deep inside, he senses that his energy can do more than just replace a flashlight. He just doesn't know how to unlock that potential yet.
On his way home, Izuku passes through a busy shopping street. The voices of the merchants and passers-by merge into a lively soundscape, interspersed with the scent of freshly baked taiyaki and grilled yakitori. The afternoon sun warms his face as its rays reflect off the shop windows. The muffled scraping of shoes and the occasional squeak of stroller wheels on the pavement create a soothing backdrop. Here, in this very place, a villain attack took place this morning. The villain was huge, but Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady easily overcame him.
Izumo's thoughts drift away. With the appearance of the quirks over a hundred years ago, many people abused their powers to oppress or exploit others. The governments and law enforcement of the time were overwhelmed by the new reality. In the midst of the chaos, brave citizens decided to take the protection of the general public into their own hands, and the first heroes were born. But this era was characterized by instability. Wars, famines and powerful super villains brought countless countries to their knees. Some regions remain lawless areas to this day.
Izuku often wonders how people could find hope when the world was so broken. Perhaps it was precisely these first heroes who brought light into the darkness, people who used their quirks not for themselves but for others. The thought fills him with awe and a slight doubt. “Will I ever be that strong? Can I do that too?”
Only the wealthy and powerful countries have survived the turmoil in any way. Smaller and poorer countries had hardly a chance, especially when climate change hit with full force. Since the first quirks appeared, the world population has almost halved.
Japan is now considered one of the safest countries in the world, a feat attributed above all to All Might. But even with one of the lowest crime rates in the world, Japan still needs many heroes. Rising temperatures are leading to more frequent natural disasters such as storms, floods and heat waves, which affect the population, put countless people in danger and cause immense costs for reconstruction. Resources for progress or innovation are scarce, and the economy has been stagnating for decades.
For most people, this is the normal state of affairs. These topics are rarely discussed at school, but Izuku knows an astonishing amount about them. He spends hours scouring the internet, absorbing every piece of information and storing it in his memory. For him, knowledge is not just a distraction; it is his tool, his hope of surviving in a world full of challenges.
After Izuku has finished his inner monologue, he continues on his way home. The streets are getting quieter, and the bustling crowds are gradually fading behind him. But as he walks through an underpass, the cloth ears of his hat straighten up. An inexplicable feeling of threat overcomes him, more intense than anything he has ever felt. His senses are on high alert, and then he hears a slimy, unpleasant sound behind him.
Izuku whirls around and just barely sees a green, slimy mass shooting towards him in a high arc. He reflexively throws up his hands, closes his eyes and braces himself for the impact. But instead, he hears a choking rattle behind him. Hesitantly, Izuku opens his eyes. The slimy mass that almost caught him has disappeared. With his heart pounding, he slowly turns around and sees a repulsive pile of mucus forming piece by piece.
“What were you doing, boy?” the green mass growls, while a grotesque mouth and two eerie eyes emerge on its misshapen body. Izuku stares at the creature, unable to move. His lips instinctively form the words that are circling in his head: ”A... villain...”
The villain laughs mockingly, an almost cheerful yet simultaneously derogatory voice. “You're one of the very clever ones,” he scoffs. “I don't know how you escaped me, but you won't succeed again.”
The slimy figure suddenly shoots into the air, ready to pounce on Izuku again. But it splats on the ground a few meters away from him. Izuku's mind begins to race. The villain seems not only confused but weakened as well. The choking and gagging from before suggests that something is wrong. His entire body is made of slime, but his eyes seem firm. “Maybe that's his weak point...” Izuku thinks.
An angry growl pulls Izuku back to the present. The villain trembles with rage as he rears up again. “What did you do to me, brat?” His voice is now deep and menacing, filled with pure rage. There is no trace of the rattling and choking to be heard, instead he seems more determined and dangerous than before.
Izuku instinctively steps back, his eyes darting hectically from side to side, looking for a way out. But the underpass is long, and the exits are far away. He feels the confinement of the tunnel like a prison, while he slowly retreats towards the entrance he came through.
Just as the villain prepares to launch his next attack, a loud crashing sound breaks the tense silence. A manhole cover shoots up towards the tunnel ceiling with incredible force. The thunderous words that follow make both Izuku and the villain stop in their tracks.
“It's all right now, my boy, because I'm here!” The words echo through the tunnel, and then All Might steps into the light. Dressed in a simple white T-shirt and olive-green 3/4-length trousers, he appears almost ordinary if it were not for his powerful charisma. His upright posture, confident grin and aura of unwavering strength seem to fill the room with confidence.
Izuku whirls around, his heart racing. In the shadow of the tunnel stands the tall figure, surrounded by an almost tangible sense of security. It's All Might. His idol, his dream, just a few feet away.
At that moment, all thoughts of the villain fade. Izuku's heart beats wildly with excitement as he sees his all-time favorite hero, radiant and fearless as ever. Hope and admiration overwhelm him. For a moment, the world actually feels safe.
All Might acts with lightning speed. In a fraction of a second, he halves the distance to the villain. The slime villain tries in panic to hurl a part of his body at him, but All Might effortlessly dodges it. His thunderous voice echoes through the tunnel again: “TEXAS SMAAASH!”
The blow is so powerful that the wind blast tears the Slime Villain apart into countless small lumps. The strong gust brings tears to Izuku's eyes, and he reflexively squeezes them shut. When he opens them again, he sees All Might sealing the cap of an XXL soft drink bottle.
Izuku blinks and stares at the scene in disbelief. On closer inspection, he recognizes the ooze villain in the bottle, or what's left of him. Stunned, he wonders how All Might was able to capture the villain so quickly. Even more confusing is the thought of how it even fits in the bottle.
“Are you all right, young man?” All Might's warm, friendly voice pulls Izuku out of his thoughts. The hero looks at him with concern before continuing. ”I'm sorry you got caught up in my villain pursuit. I'm usually not the type to get into these kinds of situations. I guess I was a little overconfident, since it was my day off and I'm not that familiar with this neighborhood yet.” He laughs loudly and heartily, his sound echoing through the tunnel. ”But thanks to you, my boy, I was able to capture him safely.”
All Might lifts two bottles into the air as he speaks and presents Izuku with the captured villain with a proud smile.
Izuku can't take his eyes off All Might. He stands frozen, unable to move, as his heart pounds wildly. A wave of awe and overwhelming joy washes over him as he sees the radiant hero before him. His legs feel like jelly, and for a moment, the world around him seems to stand still. The tunnel, the villain, even his own name fade away. “The number one hero of all... All Might. The real All Might!” His mind races, and his heart pounds as he takes in the scene.
But then a sudden thought hits him. This is the perfect opportunity to get his autograph! Hastily, Izuku scans the tunnel, looking for his notebook, which must have fallen out of his hands during the attack. He spots it a few meters away, runs over and hastily flips it open.
As he turns to look at All Might again, he suddenly stops dead in his tracks. His breath catches in his throat as he stares at the page of his notebook. Right across the middle is the name “All Might” written in large, curving letters. Amazed, he whispers, “Oh wow... he's already signed it. But... when did he do that?”
With trembling hands, Izuku turns around as quickly as possible and bows repeatedly to the hero. “Thank you so much! I'll treasure it like a family heirloom!” His voice trembles with excitement, while his eyes shine with awe.
All Might gives him a thumbs-up and grins widely. “Okay, I'll take this guy to the police station now,” he says, tapping one of the two bottles in his pocket. He is just getting ready to fly away with a mighty leap when Izuku suddenly senses his chance.
“Please wait a moment, All Might. I need your advice.” Izuku's voice trembles slightly, a mixture of fear and nervousness, even though he tries to sound confident.
All Might pauses and turns to him, his forehead slightly wrinkled. After a moment's consideration, he says, “I'm in a hurry, but thanks to you, I was able to capture the villain without any problems. I can give you a few minutes, but then I have to go.”
Izuku blinks in surprise. Although he asked, he didn't really expect the great All Might to stop and listen to him. Hastily, he collects his thoughts, gathers all his courage and manages to speak with a clear voice this time. “I want to become a hero. That has always been my dream, to be a hero like you. I plan to apply to U.A. next year, but...” His words falter and he swallows hard. “My quirk is... useless,” he finally manages to say. His voice is quiet and he takes a step back, his hands nervously grasping the fabric ears of his hat. Sweat collects in the palms of his hands, and for a moment he dare not look All Might directly in the eye. But then he raises his head and his eyes hopefully seek out those of the hero. Taking a deep breath, he adds, “Can I still become a hero?”
All Might looks at him silently for a moment, his eyes seem pensive. Finally, he says, “Oh, I thought you had used your quirk against the villain to keep him in check. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to get you in trouble. The authorities are very strict when it comes to the use of quirks by civilians. Such uses are strictly regulated.”
He glances over his shoulder as if he has lost track of time, and then continues a little more hastily. “Maybe you used it unconsciously. That wouldn't be unusual; quirks often only show their potential in stressful situations. But I wish I had more time to explain this to you. The clock is ticking, my boy.”
Izuku frowns, his thoughts racing. The villain's reaction had been really strange, but everything happened so fast. Did he use his quirk unconsciously? “I'm not sure,” he finally admits. “At least I didn't use it consciously, but the villain seemed confused.”
All Might nods slowly, pausing for a moment as if about to add something. His eyes narrow slightly, and he seems to be searching for the right words. But then he shakes his head and straightens up, his familiar, confident grin on his lips. “You should keep an eye on your quirk. Maybe it's not as useless as you think.”
These words fill Izuku with a warmth he hasn't felt in a long time. It's as if they've erased the countless times Bakugo called him useless.
But then All Might's tone becomes serious. “Your quirk aside, you can't become a hero the way you are now.” He takes a small step back, runs his hand thoughtfully through his hair and seems a little unsure about the next sentence. “I'm not saying this to discourage you. But you're hardly more than skin and bones. You need muscles, and I bet your stamina also leaves something to be desired. In this state, you would never pass the entrance exam.”
Izuku slowly raises his eyes. Pain is reflected in his eyes, mixed with the fear that his dream may be out of reach. But then he sees All Might's broad grin, which breaks through the darkness like a ray of light. “But you can work on these things,” the hero adds with conviction.
With incredible speed, All Might grabs Izuku's notebook and starts writing. His hand flies so fast over the page that it looks like he is writing a whole novel. Finally, he hands the notebook back to Izuku and explains, “I've written you a training plan. If you stick to it, you have a real chance of passing the U.A. entrance exam.”
Izuku hesitantly takes the notebook, his fingers tremble slightly. But there is no fear in his eyes anymore, only determination. A new flame burns in him.
“Well, I really have to go now.” All Might straightens up, tenses his mighty legs and smiles down at Izuku one more time. Before the boy can react, the hero leaps into the sky with a mighty bound and disappears into the distance.
Beginning of April
Izuku stares after All Might for a while, speechless, holding the notebook tightly in his trembling hands. His heart is beating wildly with excitement, while an awestruck smile spreads across his face. In this moment, the world seems to stand still. He imagines what it would be like to be a great hero like his idol one day. He walks home in a trance, barely able to perceive his surroundings.
It is only when he arrives home and collapses exhausted on the couch that he realizes what he has in his hands. It is a guide to his dream of becoming a hero, written by the greatest of all heroes and his absolute idol. His gaze wanders around the living room, over the familiar details that so often comfort him. The slightly worn couch with the cushions that are a bit too soft, the small coffee table, marked by the rings of old coffee cups, and the family photos on the dresser show only him and his mother. Not a single picture shows his father.
After his parents' divorce, Izuku still had occasional contact with his father at first, but this gradually diminished. Phone calls became less frequent until they finally stopped altogether. Izuku tried to maintain the connection for a long time, but when he realized that the interest was one-sided, he eventually stopped. He lets out a small sigh when he realizes that his mother is not home yet. A quick glance at the clock tells him that it won't be long before she returns from work.
With a pounding heart, Izuku opens the notebook and studies the training plan. His eyes widen and his gaze freezes. “This will kill me,” he mutters in disbelief. His hands begin to tremble slightly and a cold sweat forms on his forehead. For a moment, he feels like he can't breathe, but he forces himself to take a deep breath to process the initial shock.
The plan is titled “The American Dream Plan” and is nothing less than a nightmare of training sessions, running several kilometers a day, lifting weights, endurance training, all to be done multiple times. On top of that, there is a meticulously timed nutrition and sleep plan that even takes into account time for school and studying. Izuku will do nothing but eat, sleep, study, and train for the next ten months.
“This is going to be damn hard,” he whispers to himself. But deep down, he knows that All Might is right. He is unusually weak for his age, and if he wants even the slightest chance of passing the U.A. entrance exam, he has to push himself to his limits and beyond.
“Should I tell Mom about this?” he wonders aloud when a familiar voice suddenly pulls him out of his thoughts.
“What are you telling me?”
Izuku jumps in fright and lets out an embarrassingly small scream when he suddenly sees his mother standing behind him. ”Oh... Mom, I didn't realize you'd come home. Um... how was work?”
Inko puts her hands on her hips and gives him a searching look. “Don't try to distract me now. What happened?”
Izuku can tell from her determined expression that she won't be fobbed off with a half-baked answer. After a short sigh, he begins to tell his mother what he has experienced, but leaves out the part about Bakugo.
Inko's facial expression changes constantly as Izuku tells his story, from almost crying to incredulous horror. She obviously struggles with herself not to interrupt him while he recounts the incredible events. When he finally finishes, she takes a deep breath and says in a trembling voice, “Oh, Izu, you must have been terribly afraid when that villain attacked you. Luckily, All Might was nearby.”
Izuku can see her eyes glistening with tears, but he is impressed by her restraint. It wouldn't be the first time he had seen his mother almost flood half the apartment with far less dramatic events.
Suddenly, he remembers All Might's autograph. Hastily, he digs out the scorched notebook and holds it out to her. “Mom, I got an autograph from All Might,” he says, his voice trembling with pride and excitement.
Inko's face lights up, her eyes shine, even though tears are still gathering in them. ‘That's fantastic, Izuku. You have to frame that,’ she says, smiling with joy, but also concern.
A little embarrassed, Izuku turns to the pages with the “American Dream Plan” and shows it to her. “All Might gave me some tips on how to become a hero. It's a training plan,” he explains.
Inko wrinkles her forehead slightly, her confusion clearly visible. “Why did he give you tips on becoming a hero?”
Izuku lowers his gaze, his face growing hot, and answers quietly, “After he saved me, I asked him if... if I...” His voice breaks, and he takes a deep breath to continue. “...if I can become a hero even with a useless quirk.”
“Oh, Izuku, of course you can,” Inko immediately exclaims, her voice warm and full of compassion. But Izuku hears the doubt she tries to hide, like a slight dissonance in her words. She would never say that she doesn't believe in it herself, but her doubt still hurts him.
He forces a smile and says softly, “Thank you, Mom.” But inside, he feels the sting of the unspoken doubt gnawing at him.
Later that evening, Izuku sits at his desk and carefully transfers the “American Dream Plan” into a new notebook. Every letter he writes reminds him of the daunting challenge that lies ahead, but at the same time he feels a spark of hope. It is a mixture of determination and nervousness that drives him. On the front page, he writes in big letters “The American Dream Plan”.
Izuku carefully takes the original notebook, which contains All Might's precious autograph, in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he opens it and looks for the double-sided page with the signature. His fingers tremble slightly as he removes it with the utmost care. He doesn't want to risk damaging the signature. He gently smoothes out the page and places it in a simple picture frame that he found in his room.
He carefully hangs the frame on the wall above his desk, where he can always see it. It is more than just an autograph; it is a symbol of his dream and confirmation that he has been seen by someone he admires. He puts the damaged notebook aside while he admires the framed treasure once more. The sight gives him new courage, and a slight smile crosses his face.
Beginning of April:
On the first morning of his training, Izuku's alarm clock rings relentlessly at five o'clock in the morning. The shrill tone cuts through the silence of his room, and with a soft groan he opens his eyes. Everything in him cries out to pull the covers over his head and turn back time. But the thought of All Might won't leave him. With a deep breath, he pushes aside the heavy tiredness.
With trembling legs, he pushes himself out of bed, his movements slow and uncertain, as if gravity itself has him in its sights. Izuku puts on his sports shoes, grabs a light jacket and steps out into the cold, clear morning air. A shiver runs through him, but he straightens his shoulders. This is his first step, his journey to becoming a hero.
His training plan is merciless: a ten-kilometer run followed by strength exercises such as sit-ups, push-ups, and pull-ups. On top of that, he has a strict diet and sleep schedule that leaves little room for leisure time. Izuku is aware that it will be hard. But his dream of becoming a hero is stronger than any doubt. “I can do this,” he whispers as he takes the first steps.
The cold burns in his lungs, and after a few hundred meters his legs feel like they're made of lead. The icy wind bites his face, and he has to force himself to keep going. After barely a kilometer, he stops, panting, hands on his knees. Sweat runs into his eyes, burning and blurring his vision. “Is that all I can do?” The words taste bitter, and for a moment he wants to give up. But a small, stubborn voice inside him whispers, “I'll get better. It won't be easy, but I'll get stronger.”
He forces himself to keep going step by step, but the truth is unavoidable. He won't be able to do the ten kilometers in front of the school. And he certainly won't be able to do the other exercises either. In his mind, he is already starting to revise the training plan. “It will take me a while to complete the workload,” he admits to himself. The doubts creep up again. “What if All Might expects me to do all the exercises from the start? Maybe I'm weaker than he thought.” The thought stabs his heart like a dagger. But Izuku shakes it off. “I can't give up. I'll do what I can, a little more every day.”
He returns home completely exhausted, his legs shaking under him like a house of cards in the wind. Inko Midoriya is already standing in the kitchen, eyeing her son with a strange expression, a mixture of pride and concern. “Izuku, are you sure this isn't too much for you?” Her voice is gentle but worried.
“I'll manage, Mom,“ he replies with an exhausted smile. His eyes sparkle with determination despite his tiredness, and something in that look makes her sigh and hand him a cup of warm tea.
“I made breakfast,” she says, while Izuku pounces on it with a ravenous hunger she has never seen him experience before. Luckily, Inko has cooked more than usual today. “He's going to need a lot of strength,” she thinks as she watches him. She silently decides to double the portions in the future; her son has decided on something big, and she will support him as best she can.
The days pass, and Izuku adheres strictly to the plan. He runs in the morning, then goes to school, and in the afternoon he does his strengthening exercises. After school, he retreats to his room to do push-ups, while his mother sometimes listens curiously at the door. His progress is barely visible at first, but he can feel his body slowly becoming stronger and responding to the strain.
However, Izuku encounters difficulties when it comes to strength training. Many of the exercises All Might wrote down for him require special equipment. Presumably, All Might assumed that Izuku could go to the gym, but this is an option that is unthinkable for Izuku. The risk of running into Bakugo or his friends there is far too great. So he chooses remote routes for his runs and trains in the backyard of their apartment building as soon as the neighbors can't watch him.
On one of his runs, which takes him across the city, Izuku stops at Takoba Beach. Breathing heavily, he looks at the neglected beach that spreads out before him. “Wow, what a dump. I haven't been here in years, but it looks even worse than before.” His eyes wander over the mountains of rubbish, old tires, rusted metal parts, scrap of all kinds. ‘Is that a refrigerator back there?”
For a moment, Izuku stops as if rooted to the spot. Then an idea occurs to him. ’For some of the exercises in All Might's plan, I need tires, and there are more than enough of them lying around here. Maybe I could do some of the exercises here?” He lets his eyes wander over the mountains of rubbish again. Away from the main paths, there are secret paths and clearings where he could be undisturbed. ”No one would notice me behind the rubbish. And the heavy parts and the uneven sand are perfect for training strength and endurance.”
Determined, Izuku begins to incorporate the beach into his training plan. He drags old tires over and uses them to build an obstacle course. He pulls rusted metal parts through the sand and stacks them. The weight of the debris challenges his strength, and the uneven ground challenges his balance. At first, Izuku is pleased that his new environment is giving his training a fresh boost. The tire obstacle course improves his agility, and the heavy parts are effective strength training.
But after a few days, when he sits exhausted on a pile of garbage, Izuku stares thoughtfully at the chaos around him. “It would be great if I could also clean up the beach while training,” he mutters to himself. The thought won't leave him. The garbage is not only a challenge for his strength, it is also an opportunity to make a difference.
At dinner, Izuku tells his mother about his newfound training ground. “I'm training at Takoba Beach now,” he says between bites, his eyes glowing with excitement. “There's so much heavy stuff to lug there, it's perfect for my training.”
Inko stops what she is doing, carefully puts down the chopsticks and looks at him with a mixture of concern and thoughtfulness. “Oh, Izuku, please be careful when you train there,” she finally says, her voice gentle but worried. “A beach full of garbage can be dangerous, sharp edges, unstable piles... I'm worried.”
“I'll be careful, Mom. But you know, it's really a shame that the beach looks like this. I'm always lugging tires and scrap parts around, so it would make sense to clean up the beach a little at the same time.”
Inko wrinkles her forehead slightly as she thoughtfully lifts her teacup. She doesn't answer right away, but seems to be pondering something. Izuku notices this, but decides not to pursue the topic further, and the conversation soon turns back to his training.
A few days later, at dinner, Inko brings up the subject again on her own initiative. “You know, Izuku,” she begins, looking at him with a slight smile, “we had a meeting at work this week. The city government asked us if we had any suggestions for improving the city a bit.”
Izuku looks up, his interest piqued. ”And did you suggest anything?”
“Well,” she continues, her voice a bit more lively, ”I mentioned Takoba Beach. It's really in a terrible state, and has been for years. I suggested putting up a few large containers there. Maybe that would help to keep people from dumping even more trash, and local residents could dispose of their own waste there.”
Izuku blinks in surprise. “That's a great idea, Mama! What did they say?”
Inko smiles slightly and shrugs, but her eyes sparkle with a mixture of pride and caution. ”They liked the idea and want to try it. I heard that the containers are supposed to be delivered in the next few days.”
Izuku beams at her, barely able to contain his excitement. “That's great, Mom! This will help me clean up the beach while I train.”
Inko smiles and puts a hand on his. ‘I'm glad you like the idea. But still, take care of yourself, okay? And don't overexert yourself.”
“I promise!’ Izuku grins, his eyes glowing with energy. While he picks up his chopsticks again, Inko lets her gaze drift into the distance for a moment, a slight expression of contentment on her face.
A few days later, the containers are actually set up. When Izuku sees them for the first time, he can hardly believe it. The large, sturdy metal containers are ready and waiting on the promenade, and he can finally properly dispose of the chaos he drags through the sand. His gaze wanders to the steps leading down from the promenade to the beach. “Up and down the steps every time... that's perfect training for my legs!” A determined look comes over his face. “Now I can not only move the trash, but also get rid of it – and challenge myself even more while doing so.”
With renewed motivation, he throws himself into the work. He drags old tires through the sand, lifts rusty metal parts, and even moves heavy chunks of concrete that are stuck deep in the sand. While he is dragging a particularly large and heavy piece of metal, he suddenly curses: “People really do dispose of every damn thing here!”
At that moment, the piece of metal slips out of his hands and falls with a dull thud into the sand. Izuku freezes, quickly puts his hands over his mouth and looks around frantically. His heart is pounding faster. “Oh no, if Mama had heard that...” The thought of her stern look and her admonishing words brings a blush to his face. He pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then picks up the piece of metal again. “Focus, Izuku,” he mutters, getting back to work.
With each day he spends here, the clearings in the garbage get a little bigger. Some open spaces were there before, but Izuku expands them, taking great care to keep his training ground hidden behind the largest piles of garbage. The promenade must not see what he is doing here – he does not want to have to explain himself.
The work is hard. His hands get sore and his arms hurt more and more each day. But with every step, every ascent and descent to the containers, he feels a little stronger. It is as if the beach is shaping him as well as changing him. With every load he disposes of, the beach gets a little cleaner, and Izuku feels his body becoming more resilient.
After a few weeks, he notices the first changes. His arms look more defined, his shoulders broader. His legs feel stronger and his stamina has improved noticeably. He is still far from being able to run ten kilometers without a break, but he knows he is on the right track.
At the end of the first month, Izuku pauses, leans against one of the containers and lets his gaze wander over the beach. The garbage is far from gone, but the clearings he has created immediately catch his eye. The sight fills him with pride. “This is just the beginning,” he thinks, clenching his fists. He feels the strength in his arms and knows that with hard work, he can achieve anything.
End of May:
Izuku feels more confident with every day of training. Whether he is walking the streets or doing his exercises in the backyard, the conviction that he is getting stronger grows steadily. The cold morning hours are gradually becoming milder, making training more pleasant. But for a few days now, he has sensed that something is wrong. His performance is declining. His legs feel as heavy as lead, and he tries to ignore the constant pulling in his back as best he can. “Heroes don't give up,” he mutters to himself again and again.
Maybe it's the skipped rest days. His mother has admonished him several times about this, but he soon deleted the breaks from his plan. If he wants to achieve his goal in the next eight months, he can't afford any interruption, at least that's what he keeps telling himself. The stinging in his legs and arms gets stronger every day, but Izuku shakes off the thought of it. Giving up is not an option.
On a particularly exhausting evening, exhaustion hits him with full force. After the last exercise, he sinks to the floor, breathing heavily, unable to get up again. Sweat is pouring down his face and his breathing is labored. A sharp pain shoots through his right leg, as if a glowing nail were being driven through his muscle. He groans in agony.
Just as he tries to sit up, the door opens and his mother storms in. Her eyes are filled with panic when she sees him. “Izuku! What happened?” Her voice is high and tense as she kneels next to him.
“It's nothing,” he mutters. But his expression tells a different story. Inko frowns before helping him to sit up straight.
“This doesn't look like 'nothing',” she replies sharply. Without saying another word, she goes to the kitchen, gets an ice pack and gently places it on his aching leg. ”Izuku, you're overdoing it! You promised to stick to All Might's plan. And that plan includes breaks, for a reason!”
Izuku remains silent. The silence between them is only interrupted by his irregular breathing. Finally, he reluctantly nods. “Okay... I'll take a break.”
But Inko is not finished yet. With a serious expression, she folds her arms across her chest. ”A break alone is not enough. You will take a complete break for the next few days. I'll call the school and report you sick.”
“But Mama...” Izuku begins, but his mother's determined look immediately silences him. ”Yes, Mama.”
The next morning shows that a break alone would not have been enough. Every attempt to put weight on his leg ends in a sharp pain that almost forces Izuku to the ground. His mother, who is watching his every move warily, pushes him back onto the couch with determination and crosses her arms over her chest. “You stay here and rest so I can keep an eye on you,” she explains with an unyielding tone.
“I thought you had to work today?“ Izuku asks in surprise, while he leans back with difficulty.
“I switched a few shifts yesterday so I could be here,” she replies calmly but firmly. Her gaze is like that of a hawk guarding its nest, and Izuku knows that any attempt to change her mind would be futile.
He hates to sit still, but deep down he knows she's right. He has no choice but to abide by his mother's strict rules.
The following days drag on endlessly. Izuku lies on the couch for hours, staring out the window and watching the clouds drift by and the swaying tree branches in the wind. The feeling of missing out gnaws at him like a stubborn pain. The restlessness grows with every hour he can't train. His mother even forbade him from studying so that he could fully concentrate on his recovery. But as time went on and the pain slowly subsided, he realized how badly his body needed this recovery. A small consolation, but at least a consolation.
On the first day he is able to move around freely again, Izuku decides to cook something for himself and his mother. It is his way of feeling useful and thanking her for taking such good care of him. In the kitchen, Izuku hums softly to himself as he chops vegetables and prepares the stove. The aroma of fried vegetables, meat, and freshly cooked rice fills the small apartment, creating a warm, homely atmosphere.
As Izuku reaches for the soy sauce on a shelf above him, he accidentally bumps the shelf with his elbow. A row of spice bottles begins to sway. “Oh no!” he cries out in fright as they slowly begin to tip over. He reflexively reaches out to catch them, but his muscles are still too sluggish to react in time.
At that moment, a strange feeling runs through him. His energy shoots through his arm into the palm of his hand, and before he can comprehend it, a turquoise light flashes. With a soft “whoosh,” an oval disk of light forms in the air in front of him. With another gentle “whoosh” from each bottle, they disappear without a trace into the disk, and before Izuku can understand what just happened, the apparition dissolves just as quickly.
He stares with wide-open eyes at the spot where the window was a moment ago. His heart is racing and his breathing is labored. “What... was that?” he whispers, unable to comprehend what he has seen.
“Izuku?” His mother's voice pulls him out of his stupor. Inko has rushed into the kitchen, her eyes searching the room with concern. ‘Are you all right?”
Slowly, he turns to her, his hand still outstretched as if he wants to grasp what just happened. ’Mom... I think I just had a breakthrough with my weirdness.”
“What exactly happened?“ Her voice is a mixture of concern and impatient curiosity as she steps closer.
“I... I'm not sure exactly. I'll try again.” With a mixture of uncertainty and determination, Izuku raises his hand again. At first, nothing happens. On the second attempt, turquoise sparks flash, but it is only on the third attempt that another disc appears with a gentle “whoosh”. This time Izuku can take a closer look at it. An oval, turquoise ring of energy that rotates slowly in a clockwise direction. The inner surface glows like mirror-smooth light, a fascinating mixture of turquoise and white.
“There it is!” Izuku exclaims enthusiastically. But his joy is short-lived, because with a loud clanking sound, the bottles that had previously disappeared into the pane shoot back uncontrollably and smash on the kitchen floor. Shortly thereafter, the pane dissolves again with a soft ‘whoosh,’ and an oppressive silence settles over the small kitchen.
Izuku stares at the shards on the floor before slowly raising his eyes to look at his mother. Her eyes are wide open in amazement, but then a gentle smile crosses her face. “Izuku... that's incredible.”
“It... it felt like...” he whispers, unsure how to describe what he has experienced. Finally, he begins to pick up the shards. A little louder and with an apologetic look in the direction of his mother, he says, ”I'm sorry the bottles broke. I didn't mean to.”
Inko kneels down next to him and starts to help him. “It's not a problem, Izuku. It was the first time you've used your quirk in this way. You know, as a child, I almost put out an eye when I tried to pull scissors towards me with my quirk.” She smiles encouragingly at him. “You'll learn to control it. But maybe you shouldn't practice with fragile things.”
Izuku nods, and a small smile crosses his face. “Yes, you're right. I have to practice... but first I'll finish dinner.”
After dinner has been prepared and enjoyed together, Izuku breaks the pleasant silence at the table. “While cooking, I had a few ideas that I want to try out. I think a paper towel roll would be good, it can't do any harm.”
Inko frowns. “Don't you want to do that tomorrow, Izuku? You're still exhausted from your excessive training,” she says with a concerned undertone.
“I don't feel exhausted at all...” Izuku begins, but he immediately realizes that this is the wrong answer. His mother's serious look returns immediately. Still, his curiosity prevents him from just giving up. “I know you're worried I'll overdo it, but please, Mom, just one more try today, okay?”
He gives her his best puppy-dog eyes, and Inko finally gives in with a sigh. “All right, Izuku. But just one more try, and then you're resting until tomorrow, no matter what.”
Izuku beams with joy. ”Thanks, Mom!”
Izuku holds the kitchen roll in one hand while concentrating his energy in the other. This time, he wants to open the second slice further away, exactly at the couch, which is a few meters away from him. He fixes his gaze on the desired point and recalls the feeling that flowed through him the first time. Slowly, he reaches out his hand.
It happens immediately. With a soft “whoosh,” the turquoise disc appears in front of him, and to his surprise, a second one opens at the same moment, right next to the couch, exactly where he is aiming. Izuku stares in amazement for a brief moment, then he doesn't hesitate any longer. He throws the kitchen roll into the first disc in a gentle arc.
A soft, whispering sound accompanies the moment the paper roll disappears through the first pane. Without any visible delay, it shoots out of the second pane with a soft “whoosh” and lands gently on the couch. It's perfect.
This time, Izuku can feel his energy decreasing noticeably. He immediately cuts off the energy flow, and just as he had hoped, both panes instantly disappear.
“Mom...” he begins, staring in fascination at the palm of his outstretched hand, which is still surrounded by a faint turquoise glow. His voice is little more than a whisper, imbued with a mixture of awe and nervousness. ”I think I can create portals with my quirk.”
His heart beats like a drum roll, and his thoughts race. Dozens of scenarios flash through his mind – countless possibilities for how he could use this ability. The moment feels like he's been torn out of a dream – surreal, but so incredibly real. The soft glow on his hand makes him believe that anything is possible.
“Oh, Izuku, that's fantastic!” Inko exclaims with radiant joy and claps her hands enthusiastically. She quickly bridges the distance to her son and pulls him into a tight embrace. ”Izuku, I'm so happy for you! You've been waiting for this for so long, and...” Her voice breaks and tears run down her face as she hugs him even tighter.
Izuku thinks once again that his mother must have two quirks; the amount of tears she can produce is just not normal. Maybe she unconsciously uses her ability to draw moisture out of the air.
“Mom, it's all right,” he tries to calm her down, while gently patting her on the back. It takes a full five minutes before Inko finally pulls herself together.
With a slight sob, she finally says, ”Maybe your classmates and teachers will leave you alone now that you have such a special quirk.”
Izumo's face becomes serious. “Mom, you know... I think it would be better if I didn't tell anyone at school about it. It's probably best to keep my quirk a secret for now.”
Inko frowns. ”What do you mean, Izuku? Why don't you want to tell anyone? We also need to see the quirk doctor to update your quirk registry.”
“I don't know the limits of my portals yet,” Izuku explains calmly. ”But quirks that can transport things or maybe even people are extremely rare. Even internationally. I wouldn't be surprised if the government suddenly showed up on our doorstep as soon as we report this to the doctor and wanted to put me in some kind of secret program.”
“Izuku, don't exaggerate!” Inko protests in dismay. ”The government would never do such a thing! That only happens in the movies. Besides, it's against the law not to register a quirk.”
Izuku grins crookedly and replies with a hint of impudence: “My quirk is registered. The portals are just a... er... side effect of my power. And as for the government – well, there are some rumors about that on the internet. It doesn't hurt to play it safe.”
Inko sighs deeply and puts a hand to her cheek. Before she can say anything, Izuku continues: “Mom, it's going to be okay. I don't know exactly what I can do with the portals myself yet. You don't have to run immediately and adjust the registration for every new aspect. They'll update my file after the entrance exam for the UA at the latest anyway. And once I start attending the U.A., I won't have to worry about the government anymore.” He mutters softly, barely audible: ‘Assuming I pass the exam.”
Inko looks at her son thoughtfully and sighs again. After a moment's consideration, she finally nods hesitantly. ’All right, Izuku. Let's keep it to ourselves for now, but please be careful.”
Chapter 3: The first step (PART 2)
Summary:
Izuku continues his training.
Notes:
The second part took a little longer than I thought. I rewrote a few parts to look ahead to the next chapter. Please let me know what you think of the chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Mid-June
Due to his impulsive behavior, Izuku has lost several weeks of training. It took two weeks for him to recover enough to even start training again. That morning, he went for his usual jog and clearly felt how much his stamina had decreased. The level he had before his breakdown now seems unattainable to him. His mother has forbidden him from using his new ability as a precaution while he is still recovering. The ban annoyed him, but he knew that protests would have been futile.
Izuku is eager to finally train with his quirk, but that will have to wait until after school. He has trouble completing his usual running route in time for school. The school day drags on excruciatingly slowly. Teachers largely ignore him, except for the occasional small taunt. Bakugo is neither more hostile nor friendlier than usual. The temptation to show his new ability to the teachers and students is great. How he would love to see the surprised faces, but he holds back.
His mother is probably right. If he revealed his abilities, the teachers would no longer humiliate him or allow him to be bullied. They would probably even favor him just as much as Bakugo, whose ability is extremely rare. Izuku could only find very few heroes on the internet who can transport things without a noticeable time delay. His classmates would probably want to be friends with him too. At this thought, Izuku's stomach turns. They wouldn't be real friends, and in his eyes, it is this unjust favoritism that has turned Bakugo into an arrogant, overbearing asshole. Izuku doesn't want to become like that. He is convinced that Bakugo could have become a better person if people had treated him more like everyone else and not like something special. So it came as it probably had to come. Bakugo quickly saw himself as special. Every time he was showered with praise or given preferential treatment, the idea that he was above everyone else took root in Bakugo's mind until this world view became an incontrovertible fact for him. Nevertheless, a doubt gnawed at Izuku. Perhaps it was just his envy speaking.
Izuku longs for a real friend. His mother is great, but she can't replace a friend his own age. At U.A., he would meet many people with impressive and powerful quirks. Hopefully he can make friends there.
In the afternoon, just before school lets out, Izuku prepares for his usual race against time. Since he started his training, he has been able to escape Bakugo and his cronies more and more often. But Bakugo is one of the fastest students in the school and shows impressive abilities to adapt to every new situation. As soon as Izuku tries a new escape route, Bakugo analyzes every possible weakness. He strategically positions his people from other classes at various exits and has some on patrol, so Izuku is often forced to improvise on the fly. Bakugo even manages to get his class to stay a few minutes longer at the end of the day, which gives his people enough time to get into position.
Bakugo enjoys a lot of freedom, but even he can't attack Izuku directly in the classroom or in the hallways. After all, the teachers have to be able to credibly deny that they saw anything. Bakugo and his friends used to just wait at the main gate, but since Izuku learned to climb over the school walls, they've adjusted their tactics and positioned themselves at all the possible exits.
In a direct race, Izuku has no chance against Bakugo. That's why he focuses on avoiding any confrontation with him. Either he avoids everyone, or he specifically looks for certain cronies, from whom he can now escape most of the time. But when he encounters Bakugo himself or is cornered, he has to endure the latter's anger.
Today, it is particularly close. They have positioned themselves at all the exits, and Izuku is forced to climb through a window to leave the building unseen. But one of Bakugo's faster cronies spots him and immediately takes off in pursuit. Izuku runs as fast as he can across the yard. His heart is beating way too fast for the short sprint, and he curses his waning stamina inside. His pursuer is catching up quickly. A few more meters to the wall. Izuku jumps and grabs the top edge with his fingers. As he pulls himself up, he feels a slight tug on his uniform. Without looking, he kicks out backwards, like a startled horse. The grip on his uniform loosens, and Izuku pulls himself over the wall with his last ounce of strength. He lands on the other side, panting. His thoughts race.
He knows he has to be especially careful in the next few weeks. He probably hit his pursuer hard. That will only increase Bakugo's anger, although it increases anyway every time Izuku escapes him. It's only a matter of time before Bakugo catches up with him.
“Finally back,” Izuku mutters with relief as he stands in his favorite clearing on the beach. Everything is exactly as he left it. But his gaze falls on the containers. They are noticeably fuller than before. A satisfied smile crosses his face. ”Apparently people are using the containers and no longer disposing of their garbage directly on the beach.”
Before he starts his workout, Izuku decides to finally do some tests with his quirk. During his recovery time, he planned various experiments, but now that he is actually starting to do them, he feels unsure. What should he try first? Finally, he decides to start with something easy.
First, he makes sure that no one on the promenade can see him. His eyes scan the area carefully before he sets his sights on an undamaged bottle lying on the ground a few meters away. It's the perfect target.
Izuku takes a deep breath, shakes off his nervousness, and focuses. Slowly, he raises his hand, opens his palm, and points it at the bottle. He feels his energy flowing into his hand. The familiar tingling sensation spreads, and with a soft “whoosh,” a small, turquoise-glowing portal forms right next to the bottle. A feeling of triumph washes over him, and a satisfied smile spreads across his face.
He slowly lowers his hand, but his concentration remains unbroken. The portal remains stable, shimmering calmly. After a few seconds, however, Izuku feels how it gradually draws energy from his body. The effect is not overwhelming, but it is clearly noticeable. In order not to exhaust himself, he decides to quickly complete the experiment.
Taking a deep breath, he raises his other hand and concentrates on creating a second portal directly in front of him. With another quiet “whisper,” the second portal opens exactly where Izuku aimed it. To his amazement, he notices that two connected portals consume less energy together than if they were opened independently. Izuku frowns, fascinated by this unexpected behavior of his quirk, but he shakes himself briefly when he realizes that he is daydreaming. With a curious sparkle in his eyes, he turns his attention back to the bottle.
He slowly extends his hand through the second portal and watches with fascination as it seamlessly emerges from the first portal next to the bottle. It feels completely normal, as if his hand is simply making a normal movement. No tingling, no pressure, nothing to indicate that it is being guided through a portal. He is thrilled by the precision and simplicity of this ability.
With a broad grin, he clasps the bottle, carefully pulling it back through the portal and making both portals disappear. The portals dissolve simultaneously with a gentle “whoosh”. Izuku holds the bottle triumphantly in his hand and looks at it as if it were a small, well-deserved trophy.
“It works,” he murmurs contentedly. It's only a first step, but this success gives him the feeling that he is on the right track. His portals prove to be precise tools that he is slowly but surely beginning to control. A spark of anticipation arises in him: how far can he develop this ability?
Izuku is thrilled with his experiment, not only because it was successful, but also because of the insights he was able to gain from it. With just one experiment, he has learned several important things about his quirk. He now knows that his portals can also transport living things. He has also discovered that objects can pass through a portal even partially without being damaged or losing their functionality. His arm feels completely normal after the experiment. He is particularly fascinated by the discovery that two connected portals consume less energy together than he had expected.
Izuku's mind is full of ideas for further testing his quirk. Perhaps he could study the stability of portals over longer periods of time. Expanding the size of his portals is particularly appealing. Could he make them large enough to fit through himself? Just thinking about it makes his whole body tingle with excitement. If he can do it, his quirk would give him impressive mobility.
Determined to test just that next, Izuku focuses on creating a larger portal, just large enough for himself to pass through. With growing effort, he channels his energy, feeling it pulsing through his body, and he does indeed manage to open a larger portal. But no sooner has it been created than he is overcome by a strong dizziness. His vision blurs and a sharp pain shoots through his temples. The world around him tilts and he falls powerlessly into the sand. The outlines of the beach become more and more diffuse until they finally disappear completely into nothingness.
The incessant vibrating of his cell phone pulls Izuku out of unconsciousness. He struggles to sit up, and a throbbing pain runs through his temples. His head feels heavy, as if crushed by an invisible weight, and a dull weakness paralyzes his body. Blinking, he realizes that it is already dawn. The setting sun bathes the beach in a warm, orange glow. The peaceful scene contrasts sharply with his inner state. With shaky hands, he digs the cell phone out of his pocket, which is still vibrating insistently.
When he sees the caller's name on the display, adrenaline shoots through his body. It's his mother. Right above it, the time shows the obvious reason for her call. He is over half an hour late.
Izuku takes a deep breath, forces himself to remain calm, and answers the call. “IZUKU, where are you? I'm very worried!” Inko's voice echoes tensely and tinnily from the loudspeaker.
“I'm sorry, Mom. I lost track of time,” Izuku quickly lies, while pressing a hand to his throbbing forehead. There's no way he can tell her that he passed out because he overused his quirk. She would confine him to bed for weeks and forbid him from training. “I'm on my way. I'll be right there,“ he hastily adds, glancing across the beach to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything.
“I hope so for your sake! If you're not home in ten minutes, you're grounded!” his mother declares sharply before hanging up.
Izuku groans softly and gets moving. Ten minutes would be more than just cutting it. His legs feel like they're made of lead, and every step makes the throbbing pain in his head worse. But he ignores the exhaustion and forces himself to run faster.
With his last ounce of strength, Izuku makes it home just in time. Breathing heavily, he closes the door behind him. His mother is already standing in the hallway, hands on her hips, her eyes full of concern and quiet anger. “I'm sorry, Mom. It won't happen again,” Izuku mutters, looking at the floor. His voice is weak and he has to lean against the wall to keep from falling over.
Inko's facial features relax slightly as she takes a closer look at him. “Izuku, you look terrible,” she says, her anger slowly giving way to concern in her voice. She steps closer and puts a hand on his forehead. “You're completely pale. Did you overdo it again today?”
Izuku hastily shakes his head, although it makes him dizzy. “No, Mom, I just practiced too long.” He forces a weak smile. “I'm just tired.”
His mother sighs, and the tension on her face gradually disappears. “You're old enough to take care of yourself, Izuku. But I don't want you to overexert yourself again. Your health is important.”
Izuku nods guiltily. ”I promise, Mom.”
She watches him for a moment before shaking her head and putting on a small, exhausted smile. “Go to your room and rest. I'll bring you some more dinner in a minute.” It sounds more like an order than an offer, but the strictness in her tone has almost disappeared.
Gratefully, Izuku nods and drags himself to his room. There he collapses on his bed. His head is throbbing and his muscles feel weak. As he stares at the ceiling, he resolves to take better care of his energy in the future. He needs to approach his experiments with more care and thought.
It's a lesson he hopes he'll remember.
At the beginning of July,
Izuku's daily routine is characterized by discipline and constant repetition. It takes a week before he performs as well as he did before his breakdown. Day after day, he trains in his room, creating small portals and sending books through them. Several times he reaches his limits and is in danger of losing consciousness, but each time he manages to stop in time.
Over time, Izuku realizes that his energy reserves grow when he pushes his limits to the extreme. This realization leads him to deliberately exhaust himself to the point of fainting every day. In doing so, he not only develops a better sense of his mysterious energy, but also of his own limits. Izuku wants to find a more fitting name for this energy at some point. There are already dozens of crossed out ideas in his notebook, but none of them seem good enough to him so far.
The constant improvement fills him with unbridled motivation. It shows him that his hard work is paying off and that he is still at the very beginning of his journey. During the summer vacation, he devotes himself to improving his endurance, muscle strength, and energy reserves, as well as cleaning the beach. During his days off, Izuku uses the time to learn as much as he possibly can, because the U.A. requires a much higher level of education than Aldera High. Without Bakugo and his gang, who would otherwise constantly harass him, Izuku can train and study undisturbed. He spends almost every free minute at the beach or running. He only returns home to eat, sleep and study.
In the second week of the summer vacation, Izuku manages to create about ten portals per day. For the first time, he feels strong enough to create a portal in his own size.
Izuku plans to conduct this experiment on the beach, where he has more space than in his room. But every day, his small, hidden clearing becomes more conspicuous. While the piles of garbage slowly disappear in other parts of the beach, the ones around his clearing remain untouched. This way, he can continue to protect himself from prying eyes. Nevertheless, Izuku realizes that the beach will soon no longer be suitable as a training ground. He sees more and more people walking on the promenade. Just a month ago, there was hardly anyone here except for the residents. Still, he doesn't want to stop cleaning the beach. The occasional passerby gives him the feeling that people care about the state of the beach.
In the last few weeks, Izuku has made such great progress in using his portals that it hardly takes any effort for him to create them at any point within his field of vision. Keeping them open is also easier for him, and he hardly has to concentrate on it. Nevertheless, he sets an alarm clock for the experiment as a precaution, so as not to remain unconscious for too long in the event of a faint. Although he considers this unnecessary, since he can now estimate the energy consumption of his quirk well, he wants to be on the safe side.
With firm determination, Izuku creates a portal the size of himself. As the turquoise glow takes shape before him, a wave of pride and excitement washes over him. His heart beats faster. For a moment, he is simply fascinated by the elegance of his own creation and remains silent and motionless for a few seconds. Then he can feel the portals draining his energy. Creating the larger portal costs him considerably more energy, while keeping it open requires hardly more energy than the smaller portals. This insight is extremely valuable to him. However, when his energy level drops dangerously low, he decides not to hesitate any longer, but to go through immediately.
With two quiet “wushs” it is already over. Izuku cuts the energy supply, and the portals close instantly. A brief swaying, accompanied by slight dizziness, makes him drop to his knees. “That was close, it wasn't much more,” he mutters, panting.
After the dizziness has subsided after a few seconds, Izuku gets up with a broad grin. His quirk has just reached a new level.
His thoughts race as he imagines the myriad ways in which his quirk could save lives. Access to hard-to-reach places, the quick removal of debris, or the provision of important equipment. The possibilities seem endless.
In the following weeks of the summer vacation, Izuku works hard to further increase his energy reserves. Soon he starts using his portals to clean up the beach as well. The large dumpsters are not visible from the street. People either throw their trash over the edge of the containers or use the metal stairs next to them. Izuku can open his portals directly into the container without fear of anyone noticing them. He has tried several times to open his portals in places out of his field of vision, but so far he has not yet succeeded.
His next idea works a little better at first. He creates a single portal on the beach without an exit, into which he throws the garbage, like into a kind of garbage bag. Finally, he wants to create the second portal in the container and unload the garbage. But his quirk throws a spanner in the works. Izuku hadn't noticed it during his first attempt with the kitchen roll, but now that he's throwing more and more rubbish into it, he notices that the portal consumes more energy with each piece of rubbish that passes through. Even when he closes the portal, the energy loss does not stop.
Izuku begins to feel anxious. His already closed portal is draining his energy at an alarming rate. He tries to walk to the container, but after a few steps, he realizes that he won't make it. Fear quickly turns to panic. What will happen to him if he runs out of energy before he gets rid of the garbage?
In desperation, Izuku hastily opens a new portal, and immediately all the garbage flies out. After that, Izuku collapses on his knees in the sand, exhausted. The enormous energy consumption has completely drained him.
It takes Izuku several minutes for his panic to subside. As he finally rises from the sand, he mutters, “I'll have to be much more careful in the future if I want to use my quirk this way.” Determined to learn from his mistake, he decides to take it easy for the rest of the day.
The next day, Izuku tries a different strategy. First, he goes to the containers and creates a single portal there. Then he returns to the beach and opens the second portal there. He now throws the garbage directly into the portal on the beach, where it instantly lands in the container.
On his first attempt, Izuku can only keep the portal open for a few minutes before the energy runs out. But over time, he manages to significantly increase the duration. He is convinced that if he continues to train, he will soon be able to maintain his portals for hours.
While cleaning up, Izuku continues to experiment with his portals and discovers something surprising. When he doubles the diameter of his portals, the energy consumption quadruples. The consumption of the connection, on the other hand, increases evenly, regardless of the size of the portals. This insight gives him valuable clues for the efficient use of his quirk.
After a few days, Izuku notices another useful feature of his portals. Instead of closing both portals at the same time, he can leave one open and create a new entrance. This method opens up new possibilities for him and also saves energy and time.
From this point on, cleaning up the beach is much faster. It becomes particularly efficient when Izuku stops throwing the garbage through the portals and instead opens the portals directly under the garbage. Gravity does the rest. Using this method, Izuku cleans the beach at a breathtaking speed. However, he encounters a new problem in the process. The containers become a bottleneck because they are emptied no more than once a day.
The last Monday of the summer vacation begins quite normally for Izuku. He runs his morning route, has breakfast with his mother, and then heads to the beach. But even from a distance, he notices the increasing noise. The closer he gets, the louder it gets. Such a noise level is unusual in this quiet neighborhood, and Izuku wonders what could be causing it.
When he finally turns the last corner, he sees the source of the commotion. The entire beach is full of people. Most of them are holding garbage bags or buckets in one hand and tongs in the other.
Izuku walks slowly to the promenade and looks at the crowd. “I probably won't be able to train here today,” he mutters to himself. His gaze remains fixed on his clearing, which is now barely recognizable as such. His feelings are mixed. On the one hand, he is annoyed that the beach is no longer available to him, even though he would have cleaned it completely by the end of the week at the latest. On the other hand, he is secretly pleased that so many people are working together on it. Izuku wonders if he might have inspired them to do so.
His thoughts are suddenly interrupted when a young woman with short, bright red hair stands before him. Her round, mouse-like ears twitch slightly, and a friendly smile plays around her lips. She is wearing a bright vest and sturdy gloves that show she is ready to lend a hand.
“Hello, are you here to help too?” she asks, while she swings a garbage bag lightly back and forth in her hand. Izuku's gaze falls on the writing on her vest, which shows the name ‘Nezumimi Café.’ He remembers noticing the café on his way to the beach several times.
Izuku feels his heart beating up to his throat. The young woman waits patiently for an answer, while his cloth ears nervously move to his head. He tugs restlessly at his hat. “Uh, yes... I thought I could help a little,” he finally says, without looking her in the eye.
“That's great. Every helping hand counts.” She smiles warmly and doesn't seem to notice how much her friendly manner is unsettling Izuku. ”By the way, I'm Akari Chika. I run the little café on the promenade over there. We organized the campaign after we noticed that someone had been cleaning the beach bit by bit.”
Izuku freezes for a moment, but forces himself to remain calm. “Oh, um... really? That's... great,” he mutters quietly, still avoiding looking directly at Akari.
She nods and lets her gaze sweep across the beach. “Yes, someone has already done a lot of work here. An enormous amount of rubbish has been disposed of, especially in the last few days. It's impressive how much has already been cleaned up before we started. So much effort, and yet the person who did it never showed up.” She smiles pensively, as if she is sharing this thought more with herself than with him.
Izuku remains silent, but he can feel his cheeks growing hot. Instead of saying something, he focuses his attention on the sand in front of him and reaches for a piece of plastic waste.
Akari watches him for a moment out of the corner of her eye before adding gently, “There are people who do good deeds without wanting to be seen. I think there's something special about that.” Her voice is calm and full of warmth, without exerting any pressure.
Izuku pauses briefly, unsure of how to react. Finally, without saying a word, he reaches for another piece of rubbish, relieved that she doesn't dwell on it. Akari gives him a gentle smile before turning away to go to the other helpers.
At the end of the day, as the sun slowly sets over the sea, Akari is standing near Izuku again. She says goodbye to the helpers in a friendly manner and then stays with him a moment longer. “If you ever feel like having a chat over a cup of coffee, just come by. My Nezumimi Café is right on the promenade. You're always welcome.”
Izuku hastily nods, unable to formulate a proper answer.
The next three days follow a steady rhythm. Izuku starts as usual with his morning training to strengthen his body and his quirk before heading to the beach after a short rest. Work continues to be exhausting, but every time he sees the progress, he feels a strange sense of satisfaction.
More and more volunteers are joining the effort. They are mostly residents and shopkeepers who are happy that the beach is finally looking inviting again. Izuku deliberately stays in the background and concentrates on the work. He speaks only a little, answers questions briefly and takes care not to use his quirk. Nevertheless, he notices that some people, including Akari, are watching him curiously.
On the third day, the beach is almost completely cleaned. Izuku is just throwing the last remains of an old fishing net into a container when a shopkeeper says loudly to Akari: “This is incredible. I never thought we could save the beach. People keep coming back, and we owe that to all those who helped here.”
Izuku hears the words while he concentrates on the next task. A feeling of unease arises in him. He never sought recognition. For him, cleaning up was always just a practical addition to his training.
As evening approaches and the last helpers say goodbye, Akari comes to him. Izuku pauses as he sees her approaching. She seems relaxed, but her gaze is firm and direct.
“You've been here often in the last few weeks,“ Akari begins. ‘I've seen you several times, and not just me. You were the one who started it, right?”
Izuku hesitates before nodding slowly. ’I just wanted to train and thought I could combine it with cleaning up,” he finally admits, averting his gaze.
Akari looks at him for a moment, then smiles. “That doesn't change what you've done. You started something that many of us had long since given up on. For most of us here, the beach was lost. The fact that you made it what it used to be has given us all hope.”
Izuku feels guilty when she says this. He never started cleaning up for selfless reasons. “I really didn't mean it,” he mutters softly.
“Maybe not,” Akari replies gently. ”But that doesn't make it any less important.”
Izuku takes a deep breath before adding quietly, “I'm training to be a hero. I want to go to U.A. And I... I want to be a hero like All Might.”
Akari looks at him in surprise, then a smile appears on her face. “U.A., huh? That explains your determination. I'll be watching your career. You already have your first fan.”
Izuku blinks in puzzlement and feels the blush rising in his face. ‘I don't know if I deserve that,’ he says hesitantly.
“Of course you do.” Akari crosses her arms and looks at him kindly but firmly. ”You've made a bigger impact here than you may realize. And I'm sure you'll achieve much more as a hero.”
Izuku wants to say something, but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he hastily nods and pulls the brim of his hat deeper over his face.
Akari smiles, turns away and walks a few steps towards the promenade. Before she goes any further, she turns around to him again. “And if you ever need a break from training, the invitation to a coffee in my café still stands.”
Izuku watches her go as she walks away. Her words echo in his head. Slowly, a broad grin spreads across his face. It fills him with joy that he has made at least a small difference.
Izuku strolls home, slowly pondering where he could train in the future. “I need a place where I can use my quirk without being observed. So not anywhere in the city. Then the forest is the only place left. “His thoughts drift into the past, to the time when he and Bakugo often explored the forest. It was a long time ago, and the memories are now only vague. Back then, they were still friends. ‘That's the past,’ Izuku mutters softly. ”His friend from back then no longer exists.”
Izuku decides to go to the forest the next day. He is sure to find a quiet place there to carry out the next experiments with his quirk.
The next morning, Izuku wakes up as usual. Summer is showing itself from its most intense side in its last few days of vacation. Despite the early morning hours, it is already uncomfortably warm and humid. Nevertheless, Izuku does his running training and then completes his exercises. Although he enjoys the freedom of the summer vacation, he realizes that he clearly prefers the milder weather in spring or fall. After a refreshing shower and breakfast with his mother, he sets off for the forest.
Izuku remembers walking this route with his friends when they were kids, exploring everything together. Now those days seem like a different life. Back then, everything was simpler, without quirks, without bullying, just a carefree wonder at the world. Today, he uses the route as part of his training and jogs along the path instead of strolling comfortably. Thanks to his daily running, the route is easy for him to complete, if it weren't for the oppressive heat. Sweat is pouring down his face, and for a moment he wishes he could take off his hat. But that's not an option.
Finally, Izuku reaches the edge of the city, completely drenched in sweat. The mountains, where the forests grow, begin there. He greedily takes several gulps from his water bottle. “I wish I had brought more water,” he mutters wearily. But as soon as he enters the cool shade of the tall hinoki cypress trees, he feels his body slowly relax. The temperature drops noticeably, and Izuku enjoys the relative coolness.
A delicate scent of hinoki wood mingles with the earthy smell of damp soil. Along the edges of the path, he notices azalea bushes with their bright colors. The occasional rustling of bamboo gently swaying in the wind is accompanied by the whispering of leaves, creating a peaceful greeting.
Izuku notices a narrow stream flowing alongside the path, rippling over smooth stones. “It really is beautiful here,” he says quietly to himself as he walks deeper into the forest.
At first, Izuku follows the well-maintained hiking trails that wind through the forest. The sun's rays, filtering through the dense canopy of leaves, cast dancing patterns on the ground, and the crunching of gravel under his shoes creates a soothing melody. After a while, however, he decides to take a less well-kept side path. This is criss-crossed by gnarled roots and partly covered with moss. With every step, the path becomes more uneven until it is finally little more than a narrow trail. The dense undergrowth almost seems to swallow him up, but Izuku does not let himself be deterred.
After a few minutes of laborious progress, the forest opens up before him and he finds himself in a hidden clearing. In the middle of it lies a small lake, its smooth surface glistening like liquid silver in the sunlight. Dragonflies buzz over the water, and the gentle rippling of a small inlet enhances the peaceful atmosphere. Izuku stops and takes in the view. “This place is perfect and beautiful,” he thinks contentedly. He hasn't seen anyone for almost half an hour, and the seclusion of the forest gives him the feeling that he can practice here completely undisturbed.
Izuku claps his hands enthusiastically and says to himself, “Let's see how high I can get with my portals.” His gaze falls on a massive nearby tree whose widely branching limbs seem to reach all the way to the sky. The challenge of getting to the very top makes his heart beat faster. He is determined to give it a try.
With a focused gaze, Izuku creates the first portal directly in front of him. He places the second one a few meters higher on a sturdy branch of the tree. Without hesitation, he steps through and lands safely. The rough bark of the branch feels firm under his hands, and the soft rustling of the leaves in the wind enhances the feeling of how alive the forest is.
Step by step, Izuku repeats the process, placing one portal after another, higher and higher. With each jump, the branches get thinner and the wind blows harder. The increasing height makes the tension inside him rise. Finally, he opens a last portal, just before the top of the tree. The branch he has chosen as a landing point seems narrow and unreliable, and a queasy feeling spreads through him.
Slowly Izuku steps through. As he lands on the narrow branch and looks down, a wave of fear and dizziness runs through him. The ground seems far away, and the thought that only a small misstep separates him from a fall makes his hands sweaty. Instinctively, he clings to the trunk of the tree in panic. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all,” he mutters, closing his eyes for a moment to calm down.
After a few deep breaths, he dares to open his eyes again, this time looking into the distance. The view is breathtaking. The forest stretches out like an endless carpet of dense green, broken up by occasional clearings and narrow, sparkling streams that make their way down into the valley. At the foot of the mountain, he recognizes the city, small and orderly, with its streets filled with tiny vehicles moving back and forth like ants.
In the distance, Izuku can also make out the beach where he has spent so much time. The deep blue of the sea merges with the sky on the horizon, while a narrow strip of sand marks the boundary between them. Even from this distance, he can imagine the gentle waves lapping the shore. The contrast between the quiet expanse of the forest and the hustle and bustle of the city fascinates him.
“This is incredible,” Izuku whispers as he carefully sits down on a wider branch. It feels like he has caught a glimpse of a whole new world.
He takes out his notebook. Although his hands are still shaking slightly, he begins to write: “It took me seven portals to get up there. Aiming became more difficult the higher I got, especially because of the height. The energy consumption was acceptable, but I still have to practice landing more precisely.” He pauses, looks into the distance and adds: “From up here, everything seems so small and yet interconnected. The city, the beach, the forest – everything is part of a greater whole.”
After writing down his thoughts, Izuku gets up carefully. The descent lies ahead of him, and the ground seems far away. This time, however, he can see it clearly. Instead of using several portals as he did on the ascent, he decides to take the direct route.
With full concentration, Izuku creates a portal directly in front of him and a second at a safe distance on the forest floor. The turquoise glow fills the air as he checks the stability of the portals. Everything seems to be working as planned.
He hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath and jumps. With a soft “whoosh,” he lands safely on the forest floor. His knees are slightly bent to cushion the impact. He stops for a moment, feels the firmness of the ground under his feet, and looks up again. A broad smile spreads across his face. “That worked,” he mutters with relief.
As he taps the bark off his hands, he thinks about how far he's come already. This challenge scared him at first, but it also showed him how strong and versatile his quirk really is. With renewed vigor, he wonders what he could try next.
Izuku's gaze wanders over the clearing until it rests on the shimmering lake. The question arises in his mind as to whether he can also transport liquids through his portals. Determined, he focuses his concentration on the smooth surface of the water. But after just a few attempts, he realizes that it is significantly more difficult to open a portal underwater.
He has not yet found a way to create portals in places he cannot see directly. Even blurry areas make it noticeably more difficult to do so. Patiently, he gathers his energy and focuses on the water again. After several attempts, he finally makes a breakthrough. The first portal appears, and shortly thereafter he adds the second. But nothing happens.
Izuku scratches his head in confusion. The result is not what he expected. After some thought, he decides to try a different method. He fills one of his empty bottles with water from the lake and opens a new portal, but this time outside the water. With a slight swing, he throws the bottle through the portal and catches it as it flies towards him through the second portal. Like all objects before it, the bottle passes through the portal effortlessly and without any change. “So it's not the water itself. That makes sense, after all, there's water in my body too,” thinks Izuku, while already planning the next experiment.
This time, he opens the bottle and pours the water directly through the portal. To his delight, the liquid emerges from the second portal as expected, but directly into his face. The unexpected splash takes him by surprise, and he gasps briefly. With a broad grin, he wipes the water from his face and begins to summarize his observations, muttering aloud as he hastily writes them down in his notebook.
“It seems that pressure differences between two portals do not generate any force,” Izuku notes. ”That's why the water doesn't flow through the portal by itself when it's standing vertically in the water. However, if I set the water in motion, it exits the second portal at the same speed. This means that I can't create a strong jet of water by simply opening a portal deep underwater. It's a shame, because that would have been a great way to fight villains. But I could use the portals to drain water in the event of flooding. To do that, I would either have to significantly increase the duration of the portals or further increase their size.”
The many experiments, coupled with the burning sun, have exhausted Izuku. He decides to take a break and lies down on the grass to rest. The calm of the surroundings has a soothing effect, and Izuku closes his eyes to let the moment sink in. But it is not really quiet. When he listens more closely, he notices the many sounds around him. The gentle wind that caresses the leaves, the chirping of crickets and the soft lapping of water that makes its way somewhere nearby. For Izuku, this is the essence of summer, a harmonious interplay of warmth and life.
The more he concentrates on the sounds, the more intense his perception becomes. It feels as if the world around him is coming to life. Every sound and movement seems to be part of a larger whole, interwoven. In this moment, Izuku feels a deep calm, a rare harmony that completely absorbs him. It is as if he can forget everything else for a brief moment.
As he listens to the world around him, Izuku gradually becomes aware of his own pulse, a rhythmic, steady beating. But there is something else. A second pumping, quieter but powerful, draws his attention. It takes a while for him to realize what he is perceiving. He hears his own energy, or at least senses it in a way he has not been aware of before.
Izuku has often tried to feel the energy in his body and direct it to different areas. Even as a child, he found it easy to channel it into his hands. But with the appearance of his first portal, he stopped developing this ability. Now, as he lies quietly on the grass, he begins to consciously direct the energy into different parts of his body again.
After several minutes, Izuku feels his energy gathering in his muscles. The muscles feel stronger and fresher, but the high energy consumption is unmistakable. Especially today, after the many experiments, he feels a distinct sense of exhaustion. Nevertheless, this discovery gives him the feeling of being a key to something bigger.
Izuku resists the urge to jump up immediately and write down his findings in his notebook. But the tension and excitement he feels are slowly causing his concentration to slip away.
Confused, he rubs his eyes and tries to relax again. But no matter how hard he tries, the many thoughts in his mind make it impossible for him to calm down. After a few minutes, he gives up. His heart continues to beat fast and his thoughts are racing. A glance at his cell phone tells him that he has been meditating for much longer than he thought.
With a deep breath, Izuku finally reaches for his notebook and begins to carefully write down his remaining insights. He adds every little observation before packing up his things. Satisfied, though still inwardly agitated, he makes his way home.
At the beginning of February
Izuku has made amazing progress in the last few months. At the beginning of his training, he would never have dreamed of how far he would come. The exercises from All Might's plan, which initially pushed him to his limits, are no longer a challenge. At school, hardly anyone suspects his progress. He deliberately holds back in physical education and just about gets a passable grade. Physically, however, he is superior to most. His progress with his quirk is particularly impressive.
Izuku can now create several dozen portals large enough for him to pass through. A trick he has developed helps him to reduce his energy consumption. He has found that his portals require less power when he creates them directly in front of him than when he opens them at a distance. It's faster, too. Izuku suspects that this is because he can focus the energy more precisely when the destination is closer. The spatial distance, on the other hand, requires significantly more control and concentration, which noticeably increases the energy consumption.
After some time, Izuku found out that he can throw and move his portals. He creates an unstable portal in his hand and throws it in the desired direction. As soon as the portal hits an object or Izuku concentrates on it, it stabilizes in that position. However, the precision depends heavily on his throwing accuracy. Izuku can only move stable portals slowly, and it requires a lot of concentration.
Another discovery has significantly expanded his potential. He can also direct his energy to other parts of his body, for example to his muscles. This allows him to temporarily almost double his strength, but the price is high. This technique consumes enormous amounts of energy and requires much more effort than directing his energy to his hands. Izuku is proud of the fact that he can now double his strength for several minutes, significantly longer if he just increases his power a little. Nevertheless, he uses this ability sparingly and relies on his portals because they offer a better cost-benefit ratio.
A painful experience has shown him that he can use his energy not only offensively but also defensively. When Bakugo and his gang caught him once, Izuku panicked and channeled energy into his body. Although the pain remained, the injuries afterwards were less severe than he had expected. The next day, he didn't even have any bruises. This discovery has strengthened his faith in his quirk.
To his delight, the beach, which he cleaned for months, remains clean. Every time Izuku walks by, it fills him with pride and a sense of relief. The locals take care to maintain it in its new state. Izuku passes by almost every day, often pausing and occasionally visiting the Nezumimi Café. He enjoys tea and cake there, and the cheesecake is his favorite. Chika, the owner, insists that the tea and cake are on the house every time. At first, Izuku tried to refuse the offer, but Chika won't budge. Since the beach has been cleaned, her sales have tripled. The other shopkeepers also benefit enormously from it, and the whole area is experiencing an upswing. It is an open secret among the shopkeepers that Izuku started cleaning the beach. Each of them greets him happily when he walks past their shops.
A few days ago, his mother threw herself into Izuku's arms, crying, when she came home at night. Fortunately, they were tears of joy. The city council had promoted her for her great idea with the containers. Inko has been appointed deputy head of the Department of Environment and Urban Development. With her new position, she is taking on more responsibility and leading projects to improve the quality of life in her city. Her first big project is the expansion of Takoba Beach. She plans sustainable solutions for waste management and the development of the beach as a tourist and leisure hotspot. Izuku is happy to see his mother so happy and admires her for her determination in taking on this new role.
A pleasant side effect is his mother's significantly increased salary.
Physically, Izuku now feels well prepared for the U.A. entrance exam. Combined with his quirk, he believes he has a real chance. Only when it comes to studying for the written part of the exam, he is not sure if he has done enough so far. He is fairly confident that he will pass the Aldera High school-leaving exam without any major difficulties, as the school's standards are not particularly high. But the written exam for the U.A. will be more difficult. The U.A. is not only the best hero school in Japan, but its general department is also one of the most prestigious in the country. The demands in the normal school subjects are just as high in the hero department as they are in the general department, which means that Izuku must be among the best both physically and in writing.
Izuku doesn't want his dream to ultimately fail because of his written performance. So he decides to use the last month to study as much as possible. He reduces his physical training to a morning run and one set of his standard exercises. He doesn't want to cut back on training for his quirk, but decides to push his quirk to the limit in the evening so that he can study at full strength during the day.
The school is anything but helpful for Izuku's preparation for the U.A., it just wastes his time. Today it feels particularly humiliating.
“So, some of you still want to become heroes,” the class teacher begins, waving a stack of students' future plans. ”Most of you have now realized that not everyone can become a hero. You have set more realistic goals or decided to try a less demanding hero academy.”
The teacher's words cause the mood in the class to drop noticeably. Some students look down dejectedly, while others look angry. Then the teacher turns to Bakugo with a broad grin. “And then, of course, we have Bakugo. I'm glad to see that you're still aiming for the U.A. To be honest, I would have been surprised if you hadn't tried. You're perfectly suited, with your excellent grades and a quirk that's perfect for a hero.”
Bakugo grins smugly, leans back, puts his feet on the table and announces with an arrogant voice: “I will be the first and only one from this school to make the leap to U.A.”
The teacher smiles wryly and adds mockingly, while looking at Izuku: ”Well, Izuku will continue to apply to U.A.”
The class falls silent. For a moment, there is complete silence before Bakugo breaks the tension with a small explosion in the palm of his hand. He turns to Izuku with a scowl, slaps his hand on the desk and causes a small explosion. Izuku falls off his chair in shock while the class breaks out in laughter.
“Deku, you damn nerd!” Bakugo leans threateningly over Izuku, his voice cutting with anger. ”How many times do I have to hammer it into your skull? You'll never be a hero with your useless quirk. You should finally realize that your place in the world is under my shoes! You're not going to mess up my perfect origin story!”
With a quick grab, he pulls Izuku up close to him by the collar. The teacher clears his throat loudly. “We have a class. It would be better if we started soon.”
The teacher seems nervous, obviously overwhelmed by the situation that is getting out of hand. At any other school, Bakugo would have been suspended for using his quirk. But here? Izuku sighs inwardly.
Bakugo hesitates, apparently processing the teacher's words, and then finally lets Izuku fall back onto his chair. His look speaks volumes. This humiliation is far from over for Izuku.
It breaks Izuku's heart that Bakugo repeatedly gets away with such actions. But as so often, Izuku can't do anything about it. When the bell rings for recess, he hurries to get out of the classroom quickly. He desperately needs a better place to be safe from Bakugo and his gang. He knows that Bakugo is just itching to take out his anger on him and show him his place in no uncertain terms.
After a few corners, Izuku notices that Bakugo's people are everywhere. They are blocking all the exits on the lower floors and slowly working their way up. “Damn, I don't have a chance of getting to the courtyard,” Izuku thinks in frustration as he continues to be pushed upwards. It seems like they haven't spotted him yet, but it's only a matter of time.
After a while, Izuku is standing in the stairwell in front of the locked door to the roof. “That's it, I can't get out of here anymore.” He looks around in panic until his gaze falls through the small window in the door to the roof and an idea occurs to him. The sounds of his pursuers are getting louder. Izuku has no time to rethink his plan. He looks through the window and creates a portal on the other side of the door. The footsteps of his pursuers are already echoing ominously close. Quickly, Izuku creates the second portal in front of him and steps through.
As soon as he arrives on the roof, Izuku hides so that no one can see him through the window or from the ground.
Izuku spends the break on the roof. He listens carefully before carefully peeking through the window to make sure that no one is left in the stairwell. When it seems safe, he repeats his trick and returns to the building through the portal. Izuku hurries to get back to class before the second bell rings.
In the hallway outside his class, Izuku stops briefly and glances out the window into the courtyard. His gaze lingers on the small pond where Bakugo sank his notebook so many months ago. An idea shoots through his mind. However, the thought of being caught holds him back for a moment. Time is of the essence, and finally he overcomes his hesitation, quickly looks around, and creates a small portal right in the pond.
Izuku makes it to class just in time before the second bell rings and hastily takes a seat. Bakugo glares at him, his face marked by discontent. It is obvious that the fact that Izuku escaped him during recess frustrates him.
The last hour of the day drags on endlessly. The teacher, an elderly man with deep wrinkles and a monotone voice, talks about the importance of the economic miracle in post-war Japan, before the quirks appeared. His explanation seems to take forever, while old slides flicker on the screen. Black-and-white images of factories, tables full of numbers, and a poorly drawn diagram alternate. The class sinks into lethargy, and Izuku desperately tries to stay awake as the minutes drag on like chewing gum.
After about half an hour, the perfect moment seems to have arrived. Almost the whole class is in a coma-like state. Some stare blankly at their notebooks, while others rest their heads on their arms and doze off quietly. Even Bakugo seems distracted. His fingers drum impatiently on the tabletop, as if he can't wait for the lesson to end so he can get back to being active.
Izuku feels his heart beating faster. He glances unobtrusively around the class. Nobody seems to be paying attention to him. His eyes linger on Bakugo, whose fingers continue to tap impatiently on the table. Now is the perfect moment, Izuku thinks.
Slowly, Izuku raises his hand from under the table, as if he were just leaning on his knees. For a brief moment, he hesitates, his thoughts racing. What if Bakugo finds out it was me? Or what if he blames someone else? But then all the constant humiliation flashes through his mind, all the times he had to endure the pain. A surge of determination washes over him. Just this once, he thinks, and takes a deep breath.
With extreme concentration, he opens a small portal just above Bakugo's head, just large enough for a single drop. The portal remains for a split second, then closes. The drop hits its target and splashes audibly on Bakugo's hair.
Bakugo freezes. For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The water slowly runs down his forehead and drips from his nose onto the table top. His facial features darken and his skin turns a deep red color. With an angry roar, he jumps up, making the table top tremble in front of him. “WHO DID THIS?” he screams, while the entire class winces.
The class is startled, awakened from their trance-like state. Everyone stares at Bakugo as he looks around wildly, obviously looking for the culprit. Some students giggle softly, others whisper in confusion, but no one dares to look him directly in the eye.
The teacher lazily lifts his head from his papers and shoots Bakugo an indifferent glance. “Sit down, Bakugo, and don't disrupt the lesson.” His monotonous voice matches his disinterested expression. He is a veteran of the school and probably the only teacher that Bakugo does not court. Probably only because he is about to retire and doesn't care about anything anymore. Without waiting for an answer, he turns back to his lesson.
“That can't be!” Bakugo hisses, clenching his fists. ‘Nobody here is a water freak! What's going on?’ His eyes search the room until they finally settle on Izuku. Izuku tries hard to look as uninvolved as possible, staring intently at his notebook.
“Deku... it was you, wasn't it?!” Bakugo snarls, his eyes sparkling dangerously.
Izuku feels his insides raging with adrenaline, but he keeps up his facade. “I'm not crazy about water, Bakugo. You know my quirk is useless. How could it have been me?” His voice remains calm, even though his heart is beating like crazy. Even he can hardly believe what he has just done.
Bakugo grits his teeth, but he has no proof. Nobody saw anything, and the class slowly begins to relax again. Some students exchange furtive glances, the corners of their mouths twitching as if they can hardly suppress a smile. But nobody laughs out loud. Bakugo finally sits back down, still grinding his teeth, his hair still slightly damp.
The rest of the lesson drags on endlessly. Izuku can feel Bakugo's eyes repeatedly glancing over to him. But he does everything he can to avoid attracting attention. When the lesson is finally over, he's the first to rush for the door. No sooner is he out than he hears Bakugo's angry voice echoing through the hallway. “After him! I swear it was him!”
Izuku doesn't hesitate for a moment. He starts running, his thoughts racing as he storms through the corridors. Bakugo's gang is close behind him, blocking several possible escape routes. But Izuku concentrates and channels energy into his legs. With increased strength, he storms through the main entrance. For the first time, he feels a sense of accomplishment at standing up to Bakugo, even as panic makes his heart beat faster.
“It was worth it,” Izuku mutters as he leaves the school gate behind him. But he knows it's not over yet. The thud of heavy footsteps behind him and Bakugo's loud commands prove that the pursuit has only just begun.
Izuku sprints on, his enhanced legs carrying him forward with the speed of an athlete. He can feel the energy flowing through his muscles, propelling him, but the consumption is high. He already realizes that he will need to stop the energy supply soon if he does not want to exhaust himself completely. When he stops the energy, his steps will become heavier, and his speed will decrease. But he knows he can't let his quirk be completely exhausted. In that state, he would collapse, leaving his pursuers with free rein.
Izuku turns into a narrow side street, and the sounds of his pursuers grow louder. A quick glance back shows that Bakugo is in the lead, followed by two of his more persistent followers. The rest of the pack is panting behind.
The chase takes him through narrow streets lined with walls covered in graffiti, past steaming food stalls whose spicy aromas briefly tease his senses, and across empty squares where stray cats scurry between overturned garbage cans. He sprints through small markets where vendors loudly advertise their wares, and has to weave his way past narrow stalls, while the chaos around him adds to the hustle and bustle. The vendors give them confused looks, but Izuku has no time to pay attention to his surroundings. Thanks to his regular running training, he knows the city streets well. He ducks under a clothes rail and jumps over stacked boxes, but Bakugo is slowly catching up.
“Think, Izuku, think,” he mutters, panting, as the winding stone walls of a Japanese suburb appear before him. The narrow lanes with their high walls seem to offer the perfect opportunity to shake off his pursuers. He turns into one of the alleys and glances back. Only Bakugo and two of his followers are still close behind him, while the others have apparently given up.
Izuku spots a fenced-in carport ahead of him, and a plan forms in his head in a flash. As he runs past it, he pretends to look back over his shoulder, but in reality he opens a portal inside the carport. He takes care to place it so that his pursuers won't notice it unless they turn around as well.
Izuku sprints on and turns sharply into the next alley. Once he is sure that there is no one else on the street, he opens another portal right in front of him in the few seconds before Bakugo and the others reach the corner and rushes through.
As soon as Izuku reaches the carport, he makes the portals disappear and immediately hides behind a car so that he can no longer be seen from the street. He gasps for air, his heart beating like a sledgehammer. While he tries to catch his breath, he remains as still as possible. Bakugo and his thugs are still close by. Izuku hears Bakugo's angry voice and the stomping of feet.
“Where is he?!” Bakugo bellows. Explosions pop in the air, and the acrid smell of burnt material hits Izuku's nose. ‘Search him!’ Bakugo barks, and Izuku hears footsteps coming from various directions, accompanied by the rustling of bushes in the front yards.
One of them comes uncomfortably close to Izuku's hiding place, the crunching footsteps on the gravel seem to fade away right above him. One more step and he would be discovered. Izuku holds his breath, his heart beating so loudly that he fears it could give him away. But before the situation can escalate, the angry grumbling of a woman cuts through the tense silence of the neighborhood. “Get out of my garden, you little brat, before I call the police!” she yells in a voice that echoes loudly through the narrow streets and freezes even the most persistent pursuers for a moment.
That was Izuku's salvation. Bakugo's companion looks uncertainly in the direction of the shouting, hesitates briefly, and then stops the search to run back to Bakugo. Izuku hardly dares to move, but a tiny, relieved smile crosses his face.
Bakugo lets out a menacing growl, followed by another explosion. Small cracks appear in the walls surrounding the narrow streets. “This isn't over yet, Deku,” Bakugo hisses, his voice shaking with rage. “I'll get you!”
Izuku presses himself closer to the car as the footsteps of his pursuers slowly fade into the distance. He waits a few minutes until absolute silence has set in before he carefully straightens up. His legs tremble and every step hurts, but he quietly moves away in the opposite direction. Despite his exhaustion, he feels a triumphant sense of relief. Today he has made it.
The days until the exam fly by. Izuku follows his training plan with discipline, but focuses on studying as much as possible. He has made it his personal goal to beat Bakugo in the written exam. During his morning runs, he deliberately avoids all paths where he might encounter Bakugo or his clique. At school, he stays alert and watches their every move. Nevertheless, he has to use his quirk several times to escape them.
The tension is always with him, but it also drives him. Every day he manages to avoid Bakugo, he feels like he's getting stronger, not just physically but mentally too. The upcoming exam is all he focuses on now. It's his chance to finally prove that he's more than the useless Deku Bakugo thinks he is.
Notes:
Finally, I have a few questions for you.
Do you want me to add a romance for Izuku? I'm not quite sure about that. I like stories with a bit of romance in them, I just don't know how well I can pull it off.
If so, who do you think would be a good match for Izuku here? I think I already know who I would use, but I'd be interested to hear your opinion.
What did you think of the part where I let Izuku Bakugo play a little prank? Should I include more scenes like that in the future?
Do you think my tags are appropriate so far?
Chapter 4: U.A. Entrance Exam
Summary:
Izuku is taking the entrance exam for U.A.
Notes:
Thank you very much for the many comments, I'm always very happy to receive them.
This chapter is a bit shorter than I initially wanted, but the following section would have made it much too long. So the section in question will not appear until the next chapter. On the other hand, the next chapter is already more than half finished.
For those who are particularly interested in Wakfu. The Kickstarter campaign for the fifth season of Wakfu is currently running (February 12, 2025 - March 12, 2025).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A bright ray of sunshine falls through Izuku's window and hits him instantly in the face. Grumpily, he turns to the other side, pulls the blanket up over his shoulders and tries to ignore the penetrating light. But the sun is relentless. A few minutes later, a second ray of light makes its way through the curtains and this time hits the sensitive spot between his nose and cheek. Reluctantly, Izuku opens one eye, blinks sleepily into the glaring light and buries himself even deeper under the duvet.
In vain, sleep is finally lost. With a deep sigh, Izuku sits up, while a yawn escapes him that almost resembles a soft groan. His head feels heavy and the tiredness clings to him like a thick, impenetrable fog. Slowly, he feels for his cell phone, which is lying next to his pillow. When the screen lights up, he squints his eyes and the bright digits show the time 6:17. Immediately, he is shocked.
“Damn!”
His voice sounds hoarse from sleep and his heart skips a beat. He frantically wipes the sleep from his eyes, but the initial panic quickly fades as he remembers that he had intentionally turned off the alarm the night before. Today is the big day. The U.A. entrance exam doesn't start until 9:30, and he had firmly resolved to get a good night's sleep. At least that had been the plan.
With a deep breath, Izuku sinks back onto the pillow, while his wild, disheveled hair swirls around his head in the gentle morning breeze. His gaze wanders to the window, through which the sun's rays now bathe half the room in a warm light. The light paints bright, dancing patterns on the wooden floor and gives the room a peaceful, almost magical atmosphere. But Izuku is not at peace at all. His stomach contracts with excitement and a queasy feeling spreads through him. It is a harbinger of the decision that will determine today whether he can become a true hero or whether his dream will finally be shattered.
His gaze lingers on a familiar object, namely his trusty hat, which hangs carefully on a hook next to the bed and is always ready to hand. He remains in silent contemplation for a moment, while his thoughts begin to circle incessantly. It is the same hat that he received as a child. It is a souvenir that has accompanied him throughout his life. Fascinated, he studies the material. The fabric, infused with his own DNA, has proven to be virtually indestructible. He has never noticed any cracks or signs of wear and tear, and even stubborn dirt cannot stick to it.
He remembers a particularly painful moment from his childhood when Bakugo and his friends pushed him into the mud, so he came home completely covered in dirt. His beloved hat, which normally shines in a clear turquoise, had turned completely brown that day. His mother had wanted to wash it with the other clothes, but Izuku had refused with all his might to take off his hat even for a moment.
He still vividly remembers the image of his desperate mother looking at him with sad eyes while he cried softly. Looking back, he feels regret that he caused her such worry at the time. But it wasn't mere defiance. Something inside him had vehemently resisted taking off the hat. He couldn't put it into words exactly, but the thought of someone seeing his hidden wings was unbearable to him. Over time, this feeling weakened, but the urge to hide them remained. Now, it doesn't bother him when his mother sees him without his hat, but he still prefers to keep his wings hidden from others. It is something very personal.
On the day he came home all dirty, he and his mother were amazed to discover that his hat was cleaning itself. They watched as the energy gradually seeped into the material, the mud layer quickly dried up at first and then quickly fell away, until the fabric was as flawless as on the very first day. This phenomenon continues to fascinate Izuku to this day.
It was probably because the hat was made of his own DNA and was sensitive to his energy. Izuku had done a lot of research on the subject and found out that many heroes, and also some ordinary citizens for whom this was necessary due to their special quirks, had their clothes made from their own DNA in order to achieve optimal harmony with their powers. If he made it to U.A., he planned to have his entire costume made from this innovative material. He had read on the U.A. website that you could submit a request for special equipment if it was necessary to support your ability. No other hero school in Japan offered such an opportunity for first-year students, but Izuku suspected that few people knew about it. The information was well hidden and not easy to find.
Determined, Izuku grabs his hat, pushes back the blanket, and puts his feet on the cool wooden floor, which gently tickles his toes. He shuffles barefoot to the door, opens it carefully, and is immediately greeted by the familiar sounds coming from the kitchen. The clattering of pans and the pleasant smell of grilled salmon fill the apartment. His stomach starts to rumble loudly. It's a telltale sound that finally rouses him from his slumber.
“Izuku, are you awake?” his mother calls in a friendly and loving voice as he enters the room.
“Yes, Mom! I'll get ready and be right there!” he replies, his voice still slightly sleepy. He hurries and scurries into the bathroom.
A quick glance in the mirror reveals his disheveled hair and sleepy countenance. With practiced, routine movements, he begins to get ready for the day. While he brushes his teeth, his thoughts already turn to the upcoming exam. The U.A. is considered the most prestigious hero academy in Japan. It is a dream he has been pursuing for so long, and yet everything seems almost unreal this morning.
After brushing his teeth, Izuku opens a drawer and searches for a moment before finding a simple, silver pair of scissors. For as long as he can remember, he has always cut his hair himself, for a simple but important reason. He didn't want to take off his hat in front of any barber. At first, his mother had taken on this task for him, but every time it turned into a real drama. At some point, Izuku started using kitchen scissors on his own. He still vaguely remembers his chaotic first attempt, in which he looked like a plucked chicken. Fortunately, no one but his mother had ever seen this embarrassing picture, because he always wore his hat. He has now got the hang of it and does a passable job of cutting his hair.
After a short, refreshing shower, he dries himself off and puts on his clothes with renewed energy. His heart beats faster as the exam approaches and the thought of it makes his stomach knot, but he tries hard to ignore it. Finally, he straightens his hat again in front of the mirror before heading towards the kitchen.
“Good morning, Izuku,” his mother greets him with a warm, welcoming smile as he enters the room. The scent of freshly grilled salmon and steaming rice fills the air. It is a familiar smell that immediately makes him feel at home. “Did you sleep well?” “Yes, Mom, I did, thank you,” he replies, forcing a smile despite his tiredness. “Do you still need help with breakfast?” “No, I'll be ready in a minute. You can sit down already,” she explains lovingly, as she places a bowl of soothing miso soup on the table.
Izuku sits down at the table without saying a word, where a sumptuous breakfast is already waiting for him. The table is richly laid. There is fragrant rice, crispy nori, juicy grilled salmon, fresh vegetables and delicate tamagoyaki. It is obvious that his mother has gone to a lot of trouble, as she always does when an important day is coming up. She puts down the last bowl and sits down at the table.
During breakfast, Izuku's thoughts keep returning to the upcoming exam. The pressure weighs heavily on him and the queasy feeling in his stomach gets more intense with every minute. He forces himself to keep eating. On the one hand, he needs the energy for the strenuous day ahead, but on the other hand, he doesn't want to disappoint his mother, who has put so much effort into this. But the further the time progresses, the harder it is for him to get even one bite down. Finally, his chopsticks begin to tremble slightly in his hands.
“Don't worry so much,” his mother says gently, her voice filled with warmth and confidence. “You've worked so hard in the last few months. You're ready for the exam.” With a reassuring gesture, she places her hand on his to give him extra strength.
Izuku smiles uncertainly and mutters, “Thanks, Mom. I'll do my best.” Part of him wants to hold onto her words, but the nervousness remains. After a brief hesitation, he continues, “I think I'll run my usual route. That will help calm me down.”
“Are you sure, Izuku? Shouldn't you take it easier on the day of the exam?” his mother asks worriedly. “Don't worry, Mom,” Izuku replies with a wry but reassuring smile. “I'll jog the route, relaxed, more of a walk than a workout.” His mother looks at him thoughtfully for a moment and then nods in agreement.
“All right, but don't overdo it. You shouldn't go to the exam completely exhausted.”
After Izuku has eaten a few more laborious bites, he puts down his chopsticks and breathes a sigh of relief.
“Thank you for the wonderful breakfast, Mom. It tasted really fantastic.”
“I'm glad, Izuku,” she replies with a smile. ”But don't stay out too late, I don't want you to be late for the exam.”
“Don't worry, I won't be gone long. There are still a few hours to go before the exam.”
He quickly puts on his gym clothes, grabs his shoes and heads for the door. Before he leaves the apartment, he takes a last meaningful look back. His mother smiles encouragingly at him and for a brief moment he feels a deep inner calm despite the impending excitement.
“See you later, Mom!” ”Good luck, Izuku! And remember, you're ready!” she calls after him as he closes the door behind him and takes in the fresh morning air. The cool wind gently caresses his skin as he makes his way through the familiar streets of the neighborhood. With each step, his tension seems to fade a little and the hope germinates in him that this day could be the beginning of his dream of a heroic life.
After a while, Izuku's path takes him along the beach as usual. A lot has changed there since the beach was cleaned. A specialized company thoroughly cleaned the sand, removing countless tiny pieces of glass and metal. Things that were impossible to pick up with bare hands. Only after that was it possible to walk barefoot on the beach again without hesitation. The pier was then completely renovated, and a new jetty was built that extends far into the sea. At the end of the jetty, there is now a small pavilion with comfortable benches that invite you to linger. In addition, two beach volleyball courts have been created, which are particularly popular with younger visitors.
Izuku is proud of his mother, who, in her new role with the city council, has made a significant contribution to these improvements. It makes him happy to see how her work brings joy to so many people. Although it is still early in the morning and the air is fresh, there are already people on the beach. In the distance, he recognizes Ms. Chika, who is currently preparing the outdoor area of her café for the day. Her shop, the “Nezumimi Café”, has become very popular with both tourists and locals in recent months. Perhaps it is because it is one of the few cafés of its kind in the area. Most of the others had to close when the visitors stopped coming.
As Izuku approaches, he slows down. “Good morning, Ms. Chika!” he calls to her in a friendly manner.
The young woman turns around and smiles. “Good morning, Midoriya. You're late today.”
Embarrassed, Izuku scratches the back of his head. ”I slept in today. The U.A. entrance exam is coming up, and I wanted to be rested.”
Ms. Chika's expression changes. Her eyes widen and a mixture of surprise and admiration resonates in her voice. “Is it really already today? How quickly time flies!” She glances at her watch and then adds with mock severity: “And since when is just after seven sleeping in? And are you still going to train? You should be resting!”
Izuku raises his hands in a placatory manner. “Don't worry, I'm not training. I'm just going for a little run to calm my nerves. I'm usually up by five anyway, so you could definitely call that sleeping in.”
A gentle smile plays around the café owner's lips as she shakes her head slightly. “All right then, Midoriya. I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you'll do great. We're all rooting for you here at the beach.”
Izuku says goodbye with a grateful smile and continues his walk. When he arrives back home, he actually feels a little calmer. Although it is still early, he decides to leave for U.A. already. The school is in the same city, but it is too far to walk.
Izuku gets ready to go, but at the door, his mother gives him a warm goodbye once again. She straightens his jacket, wishes him good luck several times, and finally hands him a lunch box that she has secretly prepared for him. “Eat something when you have time, okay?” Her voice sounds worried, but also full of pride. Izuku smiles and nods. “Thanks, Mom. I'll do my best.”
It's not far from his home to the train station. The morning air is cool, and his breath forms little clouds as he walks quickly to the station. When he enters the train, he immediately notices that the car is full of students in a wide variety of school uniforms. The excitement is palpable in the air. Many are eagerly talking to their friends, others stare intently out of the window or leaf through their notes again.
Izuku can't blame them. U.A. is the best hero academy in Japan, and every year thousands try to get one of the coveted spots. But only the best have a chance. The thought of it makes his heart beat faster, but he takes a deep breath and tries to stay calm.
He gets off after three stops. The stream of students moving towards the U.A. is getting thicker and thicker. Izuku is impressed by the variety of uniforms and the wide range of quirks that catch his eye. Some students seem to be unable to stand still with excitement, while others appear focused and serious. Some are loudly chatting, while others silently follow their own thoughts. Izuku holds back and watches them, curious to see which of them will make it through the exam.
Then the U.A. building appears in front of him. Izuku catches his breath. Although he has seen it countless times in pictures and videos, it looks even more imposing in reality. The main building rises like a monument into the sky, its clear lines radiate strength and determination. A feeling of awe and nervousness overcomes him, but he forces himself to move on.
As he approaches the entrance, Izuku involuntarily scans the crowd with his eyes. He is looking for a particular boy with blonde, spiky hair, but Bakugo is nowhere to be seen. Izuku knows that he will also take the exam. After all, he has set himself the goal of becoming the strongest of all heroes for years. But since Izuku arrived early, he is not surprised that he has not yet spotted him.
He stops in front of a large information board hanging in the entrance area of the U.A. He looks nervously for the number of his exam room. The school is huge, and it takes a while for him to navigate through the spacious corridors and halls. Finally, he stands in front of a wide double door that leads into an impressive sports hall.
Upon entering, Izuku stops for a moment. The hall is gigantic, and hundreds of numbered tables are set up in neat rows. The room is increasingly filling up with students looking for their seats or already sitting tensely in their chairs. Some are talking quietly, others have their eyes closed and seem to be preparing mentally for the exam.
Izuku takes a deep breath and then sets off to find his seat. He walks down the rows until he finally finds his number in the middle of the hall. He sits down and takes another look at his surroundings. He has meticulously studied the exam rules and knows them practically by heart. No documents or aids are allowed, and everything necessary will be provided by the U.A. The use of quirks is also strictly prohibited during the exam.
He takes another deep breath and unconsciously clenches his fists. That's the first step. I'm ready.
Since the rules are so clearly formulated, Izuku didn't even bring a pen to his table. But as he looks around, he notices that some students are unpacking their own pens, placing water bottles on the table, or even bringing notebooks. An uncomfortable feeling of insecurity arises in him. Have I interpreted the rules too strictly? For minutes, his thoughts circle as his eyes restlessly wander around the hall.
Then he is relieved to discover that some students, just like him, have nothing on their desks. His gaze wanders further until he recognizes Bakugo in the crowd. He enters the hall confidently, walks directly to his seat and sits down without hesitation. With quick, decisive movements, he places his hands on the tabletop and stares straight ahead. Bakugo never hesitates. He is always absolutely convinced of himself and his decisions, Izuku thinks with quiet admiration. But his arrogance and arrogance quickly stifle that respect. When he sees that Bakugo also has nothing on his table, he is finally reassured.
The hall continues to fill up, and the noise level drops as more students take their seats. Finally, almost every table is occupied. Just before noon, Izuku notices a striking figure entering the room. His breath catches in his throat when he recognizes who it is.
Ectoplasm!
A tingling sensation runs through him. The professional hero had given up his active career after losing both legs a few years ago, but he remains an impressive figure. Seeing him up close is a rare opportunity. Izuku admires his analytical thinking, his calm but forceful presence, and his ability to stay in control even in precarious situations. Maybe one day I'll be able to look as confident as him, he thinks in awe.
He watches Ectoplasm as he walks through the rows, placing exam papers and a pen on each desk. He moves with precision, efficiency, and authority. The tension in the hall is almost tangible as he finally steps into the middle of the room and his powerful voice rings out.
“I welcome you to the U.A. written entrance exam. You may begin answering the questions in a moment. But first...” He pauses briefly, his eyes scanning the rows of students. ”...I would like to call out the following numbers.”
Ectoplasma begins to read out a series of numbers. It takes only seconds for Izuku to understand what this means. He is calling out those who have more on their desks than the provided pen and exam papers. As Ectoplasma speaks, nervous glances flicker between the students. Some of those called out freeze, others turn pale.
“You have all failed,” Ectoplasm declares with an unyielding tone of voice. ”Please leave the hall quietly and immediately so as not to disturb the other examinees.”
A murmur goes through the ranks. Some of those affected begin to protest, their voices growing louder and louder. But Ectoplasm remains calm. Finally, he adds coolly: “Should you refuse to follow my request, it could significantly reduce your chances of being accepted at another school.”
A sheepish silence descends on the hall. The remaining students resign themselves, pack up their things, and leave the room with their shoulders hanging down. Izuku feels a mixture of relief and confirmation. So I understood the rules correctly after all, he thinks and takes a deep breath.
Ectoplasm waits until the last students have left, then he nods briefly. “For everyone else, you can start now.”
Izuku opens his exam. The first question is already staring at him, and he feels his heart beat faster. This is it. Everything I've learned will determine my future, he thinks as he picks up the provided pen.
With a calm and focused rhythm, Izuku begins the exam. He masters the first few dozen questions effortlessly. The answers almost flow from his mind, his hand flies over the paper. But the further he gets, the more demanding the tasks become. The level of the questions increases noticeably, and he notices how he slows down.
At first, he can still hear the eager writing of the other students; the rhythmic scratching of the pens breaks the tense silence of the hall. But little by little it gets quieter. When he looks up briefly, he sees that many examinees have put their pens aside. Some have their heads in their hands and seem to be thinking frantically. Only a few are still writing continuously. His gaze wanders to Bakugo, who also occasionally pauses to think. But Izuku forces himself to ignore the distraction and concentrate on his own tasks again.
He feels confident in his answers and is making good progress. But when he reaches the last ten questions, his pace slows down drastically. The tasks are now so complex that he has to think hard about each one. He glances at the large clock on the wall and is relieved to see that there is still a good half of the exam time left.
The next seven questions cost him almost all of the second half of the time. Every answer feels less certain, and doubts begin to gnaw at him. Am I doing everything right? Do I even understand the tasks correctly? These thoughts keep coming to the fore, but he resolutely pushes them back. Finally, he reaches the last three questions and a feeling of insecurity overwhelms him. The tasks are so difficult that he can hardly understand what exactly is being asked.
Izuku desperately tries to put at least something meaningful on paper in the last few minutes. Time slips through his fingers, his heart races as he feverishly jots down a few more lines. Then Ectoplasma's powerful voice echoes through the hall: “The exam is over!”
Izuku jolts and puts his pen down with trembling fingers. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders drop, and a feeling of exhaustion washes over him. His gaze falls on the exam sheets in front of him as he sorts through his thoughts. I did my best... but will that be enough?
Ectoplasm steps forward, his voice resonating with firm authority through the room: “Remain seated until I have collected your exams. Those who are taking the hero course should please go to the large auditorium after the exams have been collected. The practical exam will be explained there.”
Izuku leans back and closes his eyes for a moment. He is exhausted, but also relieved that this part of the test is over. But the words “practical test” make his heart beat faster again. The written test was perhaps still the easy part. No matter how well I do here, if I fail the practical test, then my dream of becoming a hero is over.
Of course, he knows that there are other hero academies. If he fails, he could try elsewhere. But he doesn't want to think about that now. Not as long as there is a chance that he can make it here.
Izuku enters the large auditorium of the U.A. with the other examinees. An excited murmur fills the room as the students look for their assigned seats. The tension is almost tangible; the practical exam will begin in a few minutes. Izuku's seat is in the back rows, and to his dismay, he finds that he has to sit right next to Bakugo. His heart skips a beat as he feels the stinging look of his former friend.
“You?” Bakugo hisses the word with cold contempt and glares at him. “Sit somewhere else, Deku.” But before Izuku can react, Bakugo leans back again, a wry grin on his lips. ”What are you doing here anyway? You don't belong here.”
Izuku remains frozen in place. His heart is beating faster, and for a moment he actually considers getting up and looking for another seat. But the seating arrangement is fixed, there is no choice. And why should he listen to Bakugo at all? He swallows the emerging insecurity and looks ahead.
Suddenly, the lights go out and a bright spotlight is directed at the stage. With a loud bang, an energetic voice shoots through the speakers: “Dear candidates, dear listeners! Welcome to my live show today!”
“Everybody say “Hey!” shouts Present Mic with his unmistakable energy. But the hall remains deathly silent.
“Oh, you're being cruel...“ he adds with a feigned pout, folding his arms demonstratively and continuing in his usual enthusiastic tone of voice: “All right, I'll give you an overview of the practical exam now. Are you ready?”
With a loud ”Yeah!” Present Mic tries to heat up the atmosphere, but again there is no reaction. The hall is filled with a tense silence.
Izumuku's eyes widen. “That's Present Mic... the famous voice actor! Unbelievable!” he whispers excitedly. “I listen to his radio show every week!”
Around him, some students are also whispering excitedly, but most keep their attention focused on the stage.
Next to him, Bakugo grumbles softly, “Shut up, Deku.” Izuku jerks and falls silent instantly.
Present Mic continues the explanation, “The practical exam consists of a ten-minute practice simulation in an urban setting. You may bring equipment of your choice.” Some students nod eagerly. “After this presentation, each of you will go to your assigned training hall.”
Izuku hears Bakugo muttering under his breath, “They want to prevent friends from supporting each other.” Izuku glances at Bakugo's info card and notices that while the numbers are in ascending order, the practice rooms seem to have been randomly assigned. He looks at Bakugo's card for too long, and the latter glares at him angrily.
“Look away, or you're dead!” Bakugo snarls threateningly. After a moment, he adds testily, ”Damn, I can't beat you like that.”
Izuku suppresses a sigh and turns back to the stage. He wonders once again why someone with so much anger wants to become a hero at all.
“The training simulation will include villains, virtual villains to be precise!” Present Mic continues with his usual enthusiasm. ”There are three different types of them, which are worth different amounts of points depending on the difficulty level. Your goal is to take out as many of these virtual villains as possible to earn points!”
Izuku absorbs every word. “Virtual villains...? That almost sounds like a real heroic mission...”, he mutters quietly to himself. His heart beats faster as he feverishly mumbles how he could use his portals to efficiently destroy the robots.
Present Mic raises a warning finger and shouts in a more serious voice: “Anti-heroic acts such as attacking other candidates are of course taboo!”
A collective sigh of relief goes through the room, followed by a few nods of approval.
Suddenly, a student a few rows in front of Izuku raises his hand. “Excuse me, I have a question!” he shouts loudly and stands up. He seems self-confident, almost a little arrogant. “But there are four types of villains depicted here,” he says, pointing to the screens above the stage. “A mistake like that would be a shame for the U.A., after all, it is the highest authority in hero training! We are all here in the hope of first-class superhero training!”
A quiet murmur goes through the room, and some students exchange confused glances. But the boy is not finished. Suddenly, he turns around and fixes Izuku with a sharp look.
“And one more thing! You there, with the hat!” His voice cuts through the silence. ”You keep muttering to yourself. It distracts me! If you're just here out of curiosity, then leave, and leave immediately!”
Izuku blushes violently and lowers his head. “I'm sorry,” he mutters quietly.
Present Mic breaks the tense atmosphere with a loud, “Okay, okay! Exam candidate #7111, thank you for your kind message!”
A few students laugh quietly, while the boy sits down again with his arms crossed. Present Mic continues undeterred: “The fourth type of villain scores zero points. It's just there to hinder you. A gimmick that takes up space and causes chaos. You can defeat them, but it won't get you anywhere. My recommendation? Dodge them!”
The student who asked the question bows slightly and says, “Thank you very much, excuse me for bothering you,” before sitting down again.
“I see... an extra to maneuver around...” someone nearby mutters. Izuku is thinking the same thing. It's like a game. Still, his nervousness remains.
Finally, Present Mic spreads his arms dramatically and announces loudly: “This is what the hero Napoleon Bonaparte once said: “A true hero overcomes life's misfortunes!” Onwards and upwards... Plus Ultra!”
The words echo through the auditorium, and Izuku feels a wave of determination sweep across the room.
“Well then, dear listeners! Have a nice time suffering!” With these words, Present Mic ends the presentation. The students rise, their chairs scraping across the floor as they make their way to their practice halls.
Izuku takes a deep breath. This is it. Now the next step begins.
Izuku is overwhelmed by the sheer size of the U.A. and its extensive grounds. The massive buildings with their modern facades rise into the sky like monuments to hero training. The bus that is supposed to take him and the other examinees to the training grounds is already waiting. Although the ride only takes a few minutes, Izuku quickly realizes that the walk would have taken at least twenty minutes. The training grounds are enormous. High, sturdy walls surround the entire area, while several office buildings tower above it. The thought that the U.A. owns several such terrain complexes sends a shiver down his spine. It feels like he is entering a new, strange world.
The bus finally comes to a stop in front of a massive gate that marks the entrance to the training area. The structure appears insurmountable, with shiny metal elements and sturdy anchors giving it an almost awe-inspiring presence. Izuku gets off with the others and stays at the edge of the group, patiently waiting for the action to begin. Around him, the crowd is bustling with activity. Some are talking excitedly, while others seem quiet and introverted. Izuku takes the opportunity to size up the crowd. The diversity of the participants is impressive; it seems like every type of person is represented here.
His gaze lingers on an especially tall boy. He towers over Izuku by at least a head, and his four muscular arms are so imposing that Izuku imagines how they could crush robots like empty soda cans with ease. This sheer power is intimidating, and he can hardly believe that this boy is the same age as he is. He quickly averts his gaze so as not to appear rude.
Another boy catches his eye because of his small, almost delicate stature. His bald head and calm expression give him an unassuming presence, but there is something about him that Izuku cannot place. Standing near him is someone with a head shaped like a bronze helmet, with a striking mohawk sticking out of it. The metallic glitter reflects the sunlight and inevitably attracts attention. Another striking face belongs to a tall boy with red and white striped hair shaped like a giant drill. Izuku can't help but wonder what quirks they might have.
His gaze wanders further until it rests on a blond boy wearing an oversized belt. His self-satisfied smile seems so exaggerated that Izuku wonders if it is part of his character or just a facade. Finally, he recognizes the boy who had previously admonished him to remain calm in the great hall. He stands there, as calm and focused as ever, as if he had already developed a precise strategy for the exam. His charisma radiates an almost unshakable composure. Something that makes Izuku both admire and nervous at the same time.
He can feel his hands shaking slightly. Tension is slowly creeping into his body, but at the same time, his determination is growing. This is the moment he has been preparing for for months. He cannot afford to be intimidated now.
So many different personalities in one place. The thought only increases Izuku's nervousness. His pulse quickens as he imagines having to compete with all these talented people. Even more unsettling is the idea of using his quirk in front of a crowd of strangers for the very first time. The insecurity briefly chokes him, but at the same time, he feels a tingling sense of anticipation. The entrance exam hasn't even started yet, and his heart is already racing.
He glances back at the massive gate in front of him. He takes a deep breath, forces himself to suppress his nervousness, and focuses on what lies ahead. Then, with astonishing silence, the gigantic gate begins to open. Ahead of him, a wide canyon of houses stretches out. A perfect replica of a real city, only without the inhabitants. Streetlights cast long shadows, cars are parked at the sides of the road seemingly at random, and the detailed design of the buildings enhances the illusion. The sight takes Izuku's breath away for a moment. It seems so real. You could almost believe that people would step out of the houses any second.
While Izuku is still taking in the scenery, many of the other participants do not even notice that the gate has been opened. Some are still absorbed in conversation, while others hesitate, unsure of when it will really start. Then a loud, rousing voice echoes behind them:
“Let's go... START!”
Present Mic's thundering call pulls Izuku out of his thoughts. His right hand reflexively shoots up, glowing a familiar turquoise, and with a targeted throw, he hurls a portal directly into the city.
Some of the others turn to Present Mic in confusion, who continues talking with sweeping gestures.
“What's the matter with you? In a real fight, there's no countdown either! Run, run!”
Before the others can react, Izuku sets up his second portal directly below him. Without hesitation, he lets himself fall. A tingling sensation shoots through his body, his heart beats faster as the world is bathed in turquoise light for a split second, and then he lands in the middle of the training city.
His feet touch solid ground at a large T-junction. He quickly straightens up and scans the area. The massive gate through which he came is now several hundred meters behind him. The city seems eerily silent. Not a sound, not a movement.
Then a bloodcurdling crash breaks the silence.
With a deafening crash, a massive robot smashes through the wall of a building right next to him. Debris and dust swirl up as the metal creature slowly rises from the wreckage. Izuku instinctively takes a step back as the dust settles and the robot finally comes to rest in front of him.
He is almost twice Izuku's height. His worn, dark green armor looks rough and battle-scarred. Despite his massive appearance, he moves surprisingly smoothly on a single, broad wheel. His body is heavily armored, but what makes him truly fearsome is his long, armored neck, which supports his massive head.
With a mechanical whirring sound, the large, glowing red eye turns towards Izuku and fixes on him.
A booming loudspeaker echoes from the metal body:
“TARGET ACQUIRED... DESTROY!”
Izuku swallows hard. He barely has time to think about it because the robot is already moving. Massive metal shields sit on the long, slender arms of the machine monster, and an engraved one is emblazoned on each one.
The robot makes a loud metallic grinding sound as it swings for the punch. Despite its bulky appearance, it moves frighteningly fast. His fist shoots towards Izuku in a precise trajectory. Instinctively, he hastily jumps backwards, just in time to avoid the attack. Still in motion, he concentrates, his right hand glowing. In a flash, he creates a portal directly in the path of the robot's fist. He places the second portal over the machine's head with practiced precision.
The fist disappears into the first portal and immediately reappears from the second. With full force, it crashes into the robot's own head. A loud crashing sound and the sound of shattering metal fill the air. The machine collapses, while its head disintegrates into a cloud of sparks and smoking debris. To Izuku's surprise, the robot disintegrates far more than he had expected. He wonders briefly if the machines are intentionally designed to be destroyed more easily, but new dangers distract him from this thought.
A dull pounding and the clanking of metal make him turn around. Three more robots are approaching fast. Two of them bear the number one on their shields and resemble the first machine. The third, however, is different. It is larger, walks on four massive, spiky legs and resembles a mechanical scorpion. A Two is emblazoned on each of its legs, and its tail ends in a large, jagged spine.
Izuku doesn't think twice. He raises his hand and creates a large portal directly in front of one of the One-pointers. The robot crashes into it, while Izuku opens the second portal a few meters above the scorpion-like Two-pointer. With a dull thud, the falling robot crashes onto the larger opponent. Both machines falter, and once again the damage to their bodies is greater than expected. Sparks fly, and the Two-pointer collapses with a metallic groan.
However, the remaining One-pointer is approaching too quickly, and Izuku can no longer avoid it in time. At the last second, he pumps as much of his energy into his body as possible. An intense tingling sensation flows through him as the power spreads. The robot's blow hits him with full force, and he is thrown several meters through the air. The pain is intense, but Izuku pulls himself together. While he is still flying, he concentrates and opens a portal in his flight path. He places the second one directly in front of the remaining robot.
He shoots through the portal at full speed and crashes directly into the machine. The force rips the robot apart in an explosion of debris and cables. As Izuku rises from the wreckage, the pain throbs in his body, but apart from a few scratches, he seems to have suffered no serious injuries. His energy apparently protects him better than he had thought. At the same time, he realizes that the robots are probably designed to be destroyed after a few hits, to make the test more manageable for the competitors.
Izuku straightens up and looks back at the gate. The other competitors have now started moving, but most of them are still far away. Only one of them stands out. With impressive speed, he pulls a dense cloud of dust behind him as he races through the streets of the artificial city. The way he moves is reminiscent of a force of nature. Izuku grits his teeth. He must not let himself be left behind.
He scans the area until he spots another group of robots in the distance. His heart beats faster. This is his chance to prove himself further and collect more points. “I have to move on,” he mutters, turning his attention to the next challenge.
He briefly observes the wreckage of his destroyed opponents and then raises his hand in concentration. A glowing portal appears under the metal parts while he opens the second one directly above the group of robots. Seconds later, a shower of sharp-edged metal rains down on the machines. The deafening crashing sound rips through the silence as the debris rains down on the opponents. A Two-pointer is buried directly under the load and destroyed. Two One-pointers get under the heavy remains and can no longer move.
Without hesitation, Izuku himself jumps through the portal and lands in the middle of the group. Three opponents are still standing: two One-pointers and another Two-pointer. Their sensors immediately turn to him.
Izuku pauses for a moment, analyzing the situation. The tactic of covering robots with debris works, but it has its limits. Large portals consume a lot of energy, while smaller ones require more precision, since he would have to drop the debris from a greater height. That would give the machines more time to dodge. “I need a different strategy,” he thinks as he prepares for the fight.
Without hesitation, he channels his energy into his leg muscles and pushes off the ground with full force. The sudden thrust catapults him towards the first One-pointer. In a split second, he transfers the energy to his arms. With a well-aimed punch, his reinforced fist penetrates the robot's metal shell. A shower of sparks sprays as the machine trembles and collapses.
No sooner has Izuku finished off his first opponent than he hears the clanking of metal behind him. The second One-pointer is already raising his arm to strike. Izuku spins around and prepares to kick with all his might. But in his haste, he miscalculates. His foot only hits air.
“Damn it!” he exclaims.
His guard is up a moment too late.
The robot's fist hits him with full force in the stomach and throws him to the ground. The impact drives the air out of his lungs, and a sharp pain shoots through his body. But the energy he previously channeled into his body seems to have prevented more serious injuries. Breathing heavily and with a burning stomach, he gets back up. The robot is already swinging for the next blow, but Izuku reacts quickly. He creates a portal directly below himself, disappears with a soft “whoosh” and reappears a few meters away.
“This is not good. I'm still too inexperienced in close combat,” he mutters as he creates more distance between himself and his opponent. His mind is working feverishly to find a better strategy. “Maybe I can combine it. My portals and the power boost...”
Suddenly, Present Mic's loud, tinny voice echoes over the loudspeakers. “Seven minutes to go!” The reminder of the limited time forces Izuku to focus on the fight again. The Two-pointer is approaching menacingly, its massive tail rising for a deadly blow. The sharp blade at its tip flashes in the sunlight. Izuku stays calm, even though his heart is beating faster and faster. At the last second, he opens two portals. The momentum of the tail is diverted and the blade pierces the chest of the machine itself. With a final metallic crunch, the robot collapses.
Only the remaining One-pointer stands against him. Izuku creates a small portal next to the machine's head. Through another portal, he strikes directly at the robot with a reinforced fist. A loud cracking sound echoes through the air, and the machine disintegrates into its individual parts.
He breathes heavily, but pulls himself together and quickly finishes off the two trapped One-pointers. He smashes their heads in with a large piece of scrap metal. Panting, he adds up his points so far. “Eleven points.” Relief washes over him.
When he looks back, he sees several participants at the intersection where he defeated the first group of opponents. Many of them are involved in fights. He watches them hold their own against the robots, but decides to get more distance between himself and them. Without hesitation, he turns around and runs down the street. The buildings around him seem deserted, but the metallic clanking and distant explosions echo through the narrow streets.
He uses the next few minutes to fight smaller groups of robots. In three minutes, he destroys eight One-pointers by using his portals and delivering precise, reinforced blows. He defeats Two-pointers by directing their own attacks against them. When he finally comes to a stop, he has collected a total of 23 points.
His path leads him back to the main street. No sooner has he turned the corner than he finds himself in the middle of a chaotic robot slaughter. The noise is deafening. Explosions rock the streets, while the metallic clangor of countless fights fills the air. Numerous participants are in combat with a large cluster of robots. Izuku watches as the machines zero in on the area where most of the examinees are concentrated.
A sudden moment of realization strikes him. “I made the wrong decision to separate from the others. I could have earned significantly more points here.”
But he still has time. The exam is not over yet, and Izuku knows he has to make the most of every remaining second. He clenches his fists and looks for more opponents. The fight is not over yet, and his score must continue to rise.
It takes only a moment for a huge robot to appear around the next corner. Izuku's heart skips a beat when he recognizes the large number three on the massive armor. It is the first Three-pointer he has seen in the entire test. But the robot is not alone. Several One- and Two-pointers accompany him like a small army, their movements precise and menacing.
Izuku immediately realizes that he can't just knock out the Three-pointer with a Portal fist. He had already noticed with the Two-pointer that his raw power is not enough to destroy such robust opponents. This one will be even more resilient. Although his quirk gives him impressive mobility, he lacks the necessary power on the offensive side. He has to get creative.
Without hesitation, Izuku grabs One-pointer with a portal and drops him directly onto the Three-pointer's head. The weight could be enough to at least damage the giant. But as soon as the smaller robot hits the armor, it shatters into a shower of debris. The Three-pointer continues on its way as if nothing had happened. Not a dent, not even a small bump.
Izuku bites his lip in frustration as his mind feverishly searches for a new solution. But before he can act, he suddenly hears someone shouting behind him: “32 points, YEAH!”
Startled, he turns around. The other participants are starting to call out their scores to each other. Their faces reflect exhaustion and determination.
His attention is drawn to a girl who skillfully maneuvers through a group of robots. With a few short touches, she activates her quirk, and within seconds, all the machines she has touched, including even a Three-pointer, begin to float. Izuku stares in fascination as the robots rise several meters into the air before the girl gives up control. They crash to the ground without braking and burst into countless pieces. Panting, she wipes the sweat from her brow, her voice tired but proud. “That would be 28 points.”
Not far from her, the fast participant races through the city, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. In a lightning-fast movement, he smashes a Two-pointer with a powerful kick that sounds like an explosion. “45 points!” he yells triumphantly before rushing to the next opponent.
Izuku hears more shouts and scores echoing through the air. Almost everyone seems to have more points than he does. His heart starts racing, cold sweat runs down his forehead. “Two minutes to go!” Present Mic's voice booms from the speakers. Panic rises in him. He still has two minutes to increase his score. His gaze wanders back to the Three-pointer, which has now come alarmingly close. To his horror, he discovers that another of these giants is approaching behind him. Now he faces two of these massive machines, and time is running out.
Then he realizes that this is his best chance. “I don't have time to be careful anymore. I have to go all in!” Without hesitation, he creates a portal directly below himself and positions himself to the side of the two Three-pointers. His hands tremble slightly as he concentrates on using every bit of energy he has. The sweat on his forehead glistens in the bright light of the training city.
Izuku channels all his energy and creates a gigantic portal under the first Three-pointer. It is the largest he has ever created. His breathing is labored, but he forces himself to hold out. Directly above the second Three-pointer, he opens another portal, just as large. For a moment, time seems to stand still. The first robot slowly tips into the glowing oval, as if moving in slow motion. The massive machine disappears and reappears directly above the second.
With a deafening crash, the Three-pointer hits the other one. Shattering metal and bursting components fill the air. The force of the impact presses the two machines into each other until nothing but a smoking heap of debris remains. The shock wave sweeps several smaller robots along with it, some are hit by flying debris and destroyed as well.
Izuku sinks to his knees, panting. His body feels heavy, the enormous amount of energy he has used up has almost drained him. Every breath burns in his lungs, his head throbs with exhaustion. “I can't stop now. The test isn't over yet. I need more points.” His voice is little more than a whisper, but the determination in him continues to burn.
His legs are shaking, but he forces himself to continue. The last minute of the exam has begun, and he knows he must make use of every second. The thought of the scores of the other participants and his own dream of becoming a hero give him the strength to start moving again.
It takes all of Izuku's willpower to get back on his feet. His body is screaming for rest, but he forces himself to keep looking for possible targets. To his horror, however, he can't spot any more robots. The streets are eerily silent, and for a moment he thinks the exam is already over.
Then a deafening noise rips through the silence. The ground beneath his feet begins to vibrate.
Izuku whirls around. In the distance, a huge dust cloud is approaching the main road. To the left and right, office buildings collapse under its weight as if they were made of cards. The participants, who were just fighting for points, freeze. Some start screaming before fleeing in all directions in panic.
Slowly, a gigantic machine pushes its way out of the dust cloud. Izuku catches his breath. The robot is so huge that he estimates it to be at least twenty stories high. Its massive, reinforced arms smash buildings as if they were made of cardboard. The mighty Zero-pointer moves with frightening sluggishness. Every jolt of its track drives makes the earth shake.
“Who built this thing?” Izuku mutters, following the huge outline of the machine with his eyes. His body freezes. A mixture of awe and fear paralyzes him. ”That must be the Zero-pointer. That's totally overkill!”
Around him, examinees scream as they recognize the danger. Almost all of them run away, some in an orderly fashion, others in panic.
Izuku is about to turn around to get through a portal to safety when he sees her.
The girl with the levitation quirk is trapped under a massive concrete block. She is desperately trying to free her leg, but she can't. The Zero-pointer is approaching inexorably. None of the other participants stop, nobody helps her.
Izuku grits his teeth. His mind screams that he should run away. That it is madness to confront this thing. But his heart tells him something different.
“I can't just let her die here.”
A plan forms in his head. His first idea is to create a portal under her, but he immediately discards the thought. The concrete block would fall with him and could injure her even more seriously.
“I have to get to her.”
Without hesitation, he creates a portal and teleports directly to her side. Dust and noise make it difficult to think. The ground trembles under the approaching giant. He immediately throws himself against the concrete block and tries to lift it with all his remaining strength.
He has barely pushed his hands under the edge when he realizes how heavy the thing really is. The rough, cracked concrete cuts into his fingers as he tries in vain to create even the slightest gap.
“Run! There's nothing you can do! Please save yourself!”
The girl looks at him with wide-open eyes, her voice filled with panic.
Izuku ignores her words. His fingers dig deeper into the edges of the concrete block, but it's useless. He can't do it. The shadow of the gigantic robot grows larger and larger, the loud clattering of its chains makes the ground shake.
He glances desperately around the area. Then he notices a long metal piece among the debris. It is a sturdy-looking fragment of a destroyed robot armor. He uses a small portal to get it in his hand. Without hesitation, he rams it into a gap under the concrete block.
Now he has no choice. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment and channels his energy directly into his arms and legs. A burning sensation flows through his body, his muscles tense, and exhaustion sets in instantly. He has never developed so much strength, but the price is high. His energy reserves are dwindling rapidly.
With a desperate scream, he pushes against the lever with all his might. The block rises centimeter by centimeter. At first barely noticeable, then slowly a little more. His whole body protests against the effort. His breathing is labored, dark spots dance before his eyes.
“Just a little more!”
His arms are shaking, his legs are threatening to give way. His head is pounding, his body is begging for a break, but he holds out.
Finally, the boulder lifts just enough for the girl to pull her leg out. She hesitates briefly in pain, but Izuku shouts, “Now! Get out of there!”
With her last ounce of strength, she pulls herself out of the trap. No sooner is her leg free than Izuku's grip on the lever slips and the concrete block crashes back to the ground. The dull thud sends a shiver down his spine. If she had been even a second slower...
But there's no time to think about it.
Her leg is badly damaged, and Izuku immediately realizes that she can no longer run away. The robot is now standing directly above them. Its gigantic fist rises threateningly.
Izuku tries to concentrate, but his body feels empty. He has hardly any energy left, but it has to be enough. With his last ounce of strength, he creates a portal under himself and the girl.
A moment later, they land at a safe distance. Just in time. The Zero-pointer's fist rams a huge hole in the ground, exactly where they were standing just a few seconds ago.
He turns to the girl, who is lying on the ground, panting. Her face has taken on an unhealthy green hue. Just as Izuku is about to ask if she is okay, she leans forward and vomits a torrent of colorful rainbows over his feet.
For a moment, he stares in disbelief at the glowing chaos at his feet.
Then Present Mic's voice booms through the speakers: “The test is over!”
With these words, all tension falls from Izuku's shoulders. His vision blurs, the world begins to flicker, and his legs give way. Total exhaustion hits him like a wave, and with a final, exhausted sigh, he sinks to the ground unconscious.
Notes:
I would be very happy to receive comments. I plan to publish the next chapter in a month. I'll aim for the 15th again.
Chapter 5: Whispers from Beyond
Summary:
During the practical entrance exam at U.A., teachers closely observe and discuss the strengths and weaknesses of various candidates, taking a particular interest in certain students with noteworthy abilities. Following this challenging situation, Izuku Midoriya experiences a mysterious encounter that deepens his understanding of his own unique powers and causes him to see himself in a new light. Motivated by these realizations, Izuku devotes himself to intensive training and discovers previously unknown aspects of his abilities. Finally, the exam results arrive, marking a defining moment for Izuku as he prepares to embark on a significant new chapter of his life.
Notes:
I actually wanted to start with the Quirk Apprehension Test in this chapter, but then the chapter would have been too long. But in the next chapter, we'll really get started with the U.A.
Have fun.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The control room for the entrance exam is a windowless, dimly lit room. The walls are completely covered with numerous monitors. An entire side of the room is taken up by a huge screen showing various camera images and data on the participants. The examiners sit in front of individual desks with monitors and control panels, carefully observing every detail of the exam. Dozens of them are present and follow the screens with concentrated gazes. No one says a word.
The examinees are still standing in front of the gates of the respective training grounds and are waiting for the practical exam to start. But even at this early stage, all eyes are already on them. Who stays focused, who seems nervous, and who is distracted by their surroundings?
The teachers of the hero course are watching the participants carefully. Midnight leans back, relaxed, and breaks the silence with an amused smile.
“Like every year, it's a mixed bag of confident talents, nervous newcomers, and those who have no idea what to expect. And they're all bursting with youthful energy.”
Eraserhead sighs wearily, his expression seems lethargic, but his sharp eyes never lose sight of any of the participants. “Most of them have no idea what they're really getting into. They dream of the glory and fame of being a hero without realizing what sacrifices it will demand of them.”
Director Nezu sits in his chair and looks at the monitors with obvious curiosity. He nods in agreement. “That's why the practical exam is so intense. They learn from the beginning what is expected of them.”
Eraserhead shakes his head and frowns. ”As I have repeatedly emphasized, the current exam process is not optimal. It favors candidates with offensive quirks and excludes those who think and act differently.”
“But that's what the sports festival is for,“ Vlad King interjects, crossing his arms over his chest.
“That costs us valuable training time,” Eraserhead grumpily replies. “And even if a student attracts attention there, it doesn't mean that they have the same chances as the others.”
Midnight, who has heard countless such discussions, rolls her eyes. “Attention, here we go,” she interrupts the conversation and leans forward as the gates of the training grounds slide open on the monitors.
A loud “LET'S GO!” from Present Mic booms through the loudspeakers, but hardly anyone reacts immediately. Many examinees seem frozen, as if they had been waiting for a countdown. It takes another energetic call for most of them to slowly start moving.
Eraserhead watches the scene with an expressionless face. “This delay would cost lives in a real situation.”
All Might, who is attending as an examiner for the first time, gives him an optimistic smile. “But some responded immediately. That's great, isn't it?”
Director Nezu taps away at his terminal and pulls up an enlarged view of some of the participants on the main screen. “Exactly, All Might. For example, candidate number 7111, young Iida. He reacted with lightning speed and is already on his way to the combat zone. Unfortunately, he failed the advanced placement exam, even though he did extremely well there.”
“Number 2233 is also showing impressive speed,” Vlad King adds, projecting an image of Bakugo onto the large monitor. The blond student moves through the urban canyons with explosive power.
Eraserhead narrows his eyes and watches Bakugo's destructive locomotion. ”The question is how well he can control himself. With a quirk like his, he can do enormous damage.”
Suddenly, Nezu stops his movements and narrows his eyes. Quickly tapping on his terminal, he calls up a split image on the main monitor. On one side, you can see Izuku Midoriya, who is still standing in front of the gate. On the other side, the first major intersection of the training ground appears.
“We have something interesting here,” Nezu mutters quietly, and immediately the other teachers curiously turn their eyes to the monitor.
On the screen, Izuku disappears in the middle of a movement through a turquoise hole and reappears in the next moment at an intersection.
The reactions are not long in coming. Midnight blinks in surprise, Vlad King leans forward with interest, and even Eraserhead raises an eyebrow slightly.
“Did he just teleport?” Midnight asks in amazement.
Vlad King nods slowly as he watches the scene carefully. ”It certainly looks that way. And he can apparently create these holes in midair and use them to redirect objects.”
On the screens, it is clearly visible how Izuku skillfully uses one of his portals to make one of the large battle robots destroy itself.
Eraserhead watches the footage with a serious expression. “It's a versatile skill, but it's also dangerous. If he doesn't know exactly what he's doing, he could cause significant damage with it. Not only to his opponents.”
Nezu smiles mysteriously and bows his head slightly. “Well, it seems we have a particularly exciting candidate this year.”
While the entrance exam continues at full speed outside on the training grounds, the teachers watch the monitors with excitement.
Director Nezu leans forward, his small black eyes sparkling with curiosity as he types on his terminal. “I don't know of any hero who has abilities similar to this boy's. Teleportation quirks are extremely rare, even rarer than healing quirks,” he analyzes, fascinated. Then he opens another window and looks at Izuku's file, frowning. ‘Interesting. His file only describes his quirk as a ’mysterious energy' that he can use to make his hands glow.”
All Might, who has been silently following the action so far, suddenly freezes. Something clicks in his head, and his expression changes from focused to amazed.
“I know this boy!” he exclaims loudly.
Some teachers react with a surprised ‘What?’, while all eyes instantly turn to hero number one.
All Might nods affirmatively, arms folded. “Yes, it must have been about a year ago. I saved him from a villain back then. We spoke briefly, and he asked me if he could become a hero despite having a weak quirk. I gave him a few training tips. I still remember exactly how worried he was that his ability wasn't powerful enough.”
Nezu taps his chin thoughtfully with one talon. “Do you think he intentionally kept his quirk a secret?”
All Might shakes his head decisively. ”No, I don't think so. He seemed genuinely worried and unsure about his power. He seemed like a kind, if somewhat shy, boy to me. Maybe he was just nervous because he's a big fan of mine.”
As the teachers continue to watch the screens in fascination, a look of disdain appears on Eraserhead's face. He watches as Izuku destroys another robot with its own fist, skillfully placing a portal. But the next moment, a mechanical arm hits him with full force, sending him flying through the air.
“He definitely has talent, but he lacks hand-to-hand combat experience,” Eraserhead comments soberly. ”He relies entirely on his quirk. As soon as someone gets the better of him physically, he lacks the training to react appropriately.”
Vlad King laughs softly and points to the monitors. “The boy can take a beating. A hit like that would have taken most of the participants out of the fight. But he gets up again as if nothing had happened.”
Nezu changes the view again and calls up Izuku's school file. His expression remains calm, but his voice becomes more serious. “His file doesn't read particularly positively. Lots of negative entries. Apparently, he was always looking for a fight. However, his grades are consistently excellent.”
Midnight frowns. ”That doesn't match the boy All Might described.”
“However, a certain name appears in almost every entry: Katsuki Bakugo, candidate 2233,” Nezu continues. ”It is striking that Midoriya was always punished alone, while Bakugo's record is absolutely flawless. Not a single reprimand. It was never questioned whether both might not bear partial blame.”
An oppressive silence spreads throughout the room. Midnight thoughtfully puts a hand to her chin. “That sounds extremely one-sided. Something is not fair at all.”
Nezu smiles mischievously. ”I'll take a closer look at both files later.”
The monitors change the image and show Bakugo in the middle of the fight. The blond boy sweeps through the urban canyons, exploding and dismembering one robot after another with brutal efficiency.
“He's already accumulated almost seventy villain points. Impressive,” Vlad King remarks appreciatively.
Midnight raises an eyebrow. ”But he doesn't have a single rescue point yet.”
Nezu leans back contentedly and places his talon on a large red button on his desk. A malicious chuckle escapes him. “Time for the final challenge. Let's see how the participants will react to it.”
With a light press of the button, the image on all screens changes simultaneously.
Chaos breaks out instantly.
The ground begins to shake on every training ground. Enormous mechanical structures break free from their moorings and spring to life. Giant robots roll through the artificial cities and cause buildings to collapse. Trainees jump aside or freeze in terror.
Cementoss sighs and massages his temples. “This will take me and Maijima all week to rebuild.”
Eraserhead frowns as he observes the participants' reactions. ”As expected, most of them panic or freeze in terror. In a real disaster, they would be worse than useless. They would be a liability.”
The hitherto silent Ectoplasm nods in agreement. “Well, not everyone is cut out to be a hero.”
Suddenly, Midnight notices something. She zooms in on a particular camera view and throws the image onto the main screen. ”A participant is trapped. Should we stop the Zero-Pointer?”
Nezu shakes his head calmly. “Not yet. Our safety precautions are sufficient to prevent serious injury... at least most of the time.”
Midnight narrows her eyes. ‘I didn't like this break at all.”
Vlad King watches the scene with arms folded. ’It doesn't look like anyone's going to help her...”
But before he can finish the sentence, the screen flickers briefly. A turquoise glow appears, and an oval portal opens right next to the trapped contestant.
All Might straightens up in his seat and a broad grin appears on his face.
“There he is. Midoriya.”
The teachers watch with excitement as Izuku desperately tries to push the heavy piece of debris away. His hands tremble with exertion, sweat drips down his forehead as he does his best to free the trapped student. But the piece of debris is too heavy. His muscles finally give out and he has to pause for a moment.
Eraserhead narrows his eyes skeptically. “He's giving up?”
But then something happens that captivates everyone again. Izuku raises a hand. His fingers glow faintly and a small portal appears above him. A metallic clang sounds as an iron bar falls directly into his hand.
Nezu leans forward with interest. “He stays calm under pressure and adapts his strategy. An essential quality for a hero.”
With renewed determination, Izuku uses the iron bar as a lever and finally manages to lift the piece of debris just enough for the participant to free her leg.
But there is no time to breathe a sigh of relief.
A deep, mechanical roar shakes the air as the Zero-Pointer raises its gigantic fist. The massive hydraulic cylinders hiss loudly as the enormous arm slowly rises and then comes crashing down on Izuku and the girl.
Cementoss draws in a sharp breath. “If he doesn't act immediately...”
Izuku reacts at the last second. His eyes widen, his breathing becomes erratic, but his hands move confidently. A large, turquoise portal opens up directly below them. A blink of an eye later, they disappear into it, while the massive arm of the Zero-pointer hits the ground with a deafening bang.
The cameras quickly switch to show where the two reappear. This time, they are not just a few meters away.
Hundreds of meters further, in an almost untouched section of the terrain, Izuku and the participant from the second portal emerge. They land roughly on the ground. Izuku instinctively rolls, while the girl remains lying there, breathing heavily.
Nezu turns in his chair and clasps the armrests with his small paws. An enthusiastic sparkle enters his eyes. “Fantastic! Not only can he take other people with him through his portals, but he can also transport them over great distances.”
Eraserhead crosses his arms and frowns. “If the boy has deliberately provided false information about his quirk, it was a wise decision. With a skill like his, the government, the hero commission and various rogue organizations will be after him.”
Nezu nods thoughtfully. “I agree. Fortunately, he's getting a lot of rescue points right now. That way, I don't have to manipulate the point system.”
Vlad King gives him a suspicious look. ”You would have actually manipulated the point system just to get him into the school?”
Nezu smiles meaningfully. “Of course. I won't let such an extraordinary quirk fall into the hands of the hero commission. In recent years, it has gained far too much influence and power anyway.”
Vlad King's forehead wrinkles deeply. ”It almost sounds like you're not sure whether the commission always acts in the best interests of the heroes.”
“I'm sure it doesn't,” Nezu replies calmly. ”And even worse, if it fell into the hands of a villainous organization, the consequences could be disastrous. With a skill like his, you can not only save lives, but also cause significant damage.”
A heavy silence falls over the room. Not a single teacher disagrees. Each of them knows the stories of Mack users who were either shaped or destroyed by society, depending on which hands they fell into.
Suddenly, Midnight's voice sounds, unusually serious.
“Midoriya looks bad.”
All eyes snap back to the screens. Izuku is sitting on the floor with wide-open eyes, his breathing shallow and irregular. The girl he saved is holding her hand in front of her mouth, trembling, her face as white as chalk. Seconds later, she leans forward and throws up directly on his shoes.
Izukus shoulders shrug slightly, as if he is desperately trying to stay conscious. But then suddenly he tips over.
“He has used up his last reserves of strength,” Eraserhead states soberly.
Vlad King nods slowly. ”It was all too much at once. First the rescue, then the portal over this distance. He's at his wit's end.”
Nezu looks thoughtfully at the screen and smiles gently. “Until the last second, he behaved like a true hero.”
Eraserhead sighs deeply and pulls his scarf over his face. He mutters quietly:
“Problem child.”
Izuku blinks several times and looks around in the boundless expanse, which shines in bright turquoise and soft white. For a moment, panic takes hold of him. Nowhere are walls, shadows or even any kind of landmark visible. Slowly, memories of the U.A. entrance exam return. It was over, then suddenly everything went black. And now he stands here in this unfathomable void, trying to grasp what is happening.
Something is changing before him. It is little more than a faint flicker in the light, but Izuku perceives it clearly. Slowly, a shape begins to form from it, as if it were growing directly out of nothing. Her body is enveloped in a turquoise glow. Izuku rubs his eyes, unsure whether he is awake or dreaming. With each heartbeat, the apparition takes on clearer contours until it finally becomes visible who or what is standing before him.
The figure is tall and possesses an almost unearthly elegance. A slender body, surrounded by a glowing, gently flowing mane, the end of which envelops the lower half of its appearance in wavy strands. Her hair shimmers intensely in deep turquoise, with occasional sparkling highlights, as if pure light were trapped within it. Behind her head floats a circular glow, and Izuku wonders in amazement if it could be some kind of crown. Her face looks mask-like, almost expressionless, yet there is a strange, silent devotion in it. Her eyes are little more than suggested shadows, as if she were resting in deepest contemplation. A mysterious dignity radiates from her entire being.
A tingling sensation runs down Izuku's neck as he stares at the figure, mesmerized. His breathing quickens. The presence of this being not only fills its surroundings, it also permeates him, flooding him gently yet noticeably with strange power. At the same time, he feels a deep sense of awe and humility, as if he were facing a power far beyond his imagination.
“You are not one of mine.” The figure's voice is gentle, but every single sound carries a deep, reverberating heaviness. There is silence as the being slowly circles Izuku, but always maintains a respectful distance. “And yet... there is something familiar about you.”
Izuku hardly dares to breathe. His lips feel dry, his heart is beating so hard that he can feel it clearly. The figure's aura is overwhelming, but at the same time gentle and warm, like a hug that gives him both comfort and reverence.
“Who... who are you?” Izuku asks barely audibly.
“I am the goddess Eliatrope.”
Her words echo in his head as if she had spoken directly into his thoughts. ”Some call me the Queen of Portals or simply the Goddess. But that doesn't matter now. What's more important is who you are.”
Izuku hesitates. The goddess's name still echoes in his mind. Finally, he hesitantly produces his answer.
“I... my name is Izuku Midoriya.”
A gentle smile plays around her lips. “Greetings, Izuku.”
Slowly, she starts moving again, circling him once more, but closer than before.
Suddenly, part of her shimmering hair moves towards him at lightning speed. Before Izuku can react, the silky strands are already touching his forehead. An intense turquoise glow spreads across his skin, while a strange but pleasant energy flows through his body. It feels like an invisible hand is gently roaming his memories. A strange tingling sensation fills his head and suddenly there is silence.
He cannot move. His muscles are as if frozen, held in an invisible, gentle embrace. Although it lasts only a few seconds, this moment seems like an eternity to him. Finally, the glowing hair gently withdraws, as if it had never done anything other than gently caress the air. The goddess takes a few steps back and looks at Izuku with a calm, friendly gaze.
“What was that?” Izuku manages to say, as soon as he has control over his body again. His breathing quickens, his heart pounds wildly in his chest. Involuntarily, he puts a hand to his head, as if he can still feel the strange touch there.
The goddess gives him a gentle smile and speaks in a calm, melodic voice. “I have looked into your past.”
Izuku blinks. His lips silently form an oh as his thoughts race. He doesn't know whether he should be outraged or just overwhelmed. Finally, he manages only a hesitant ”Ohhh, okay?”
The goddess tilts her head slightly. Her gaze pierces him in a way that seems neither judgmental nor distant, but filled with sincere warmth. “I see a painful past,” she says gently, “but also an amazing kindness and a burning desire to help others.”
Izuku feels the blush rising in his face. He doesn't know what to say in response. His past is anything but bright or heroic. To change the subject, he shakes his head slightly and asks the first question that comes to mind. “Where are we?”
The goddess's hair, which used to wave from bottom to top, now shines brighter. At the same time, she floats a little higher in a slow, calm movement. “Oh, we are in a side dimension of your world.”
Izuku's eyes widen in surprise. ‘I'm in another dimension?’ His voice alternates between horror and fascination. The thought of it is overwhelming.
“Not exactly.“ Her voice remains gentle, as if she senses his insecurity. ‘I merely brought your consciousness here. Your body is currently lying unconscious in your world. However, this side dimension still belongs to your world.”
It takes Izuku a moment to process this information. The idea that his mind has been separated from his body makes him shiver. ’Why?” he finally asks quietly.
The goddess begins to float slowly back and forth in front of him. Her long hair follows her every movement with flowing elegance, as if it were part of the glowing surroundings itself. Finally, she answers patiently. “I could sense you using your portals in my world. Your energy was familiar to me. I believed you were one of mine and had lost your way.”
Izuku frowns. “One of yours?” His curiosity is aroused and for a moment drives away his insecurity.
“My children and the children of my children... the people of Eliatropen.”
Izuku blinks in wonder. “You named your people after you?” he asks incredulously.
The goddess smiles gently. “As their numbers grew, they named themselves after me, out of reverence and gratitude.” There is no trace of pride in her voice, but rather a gentle melancholy, as if it were a distant memory.
Izukus thoughts are racing. The goddess and her people... do they really exist in another world? More and more questions arise in his mind. “Why did you think I was one of them?” he asks curiously. With each answer, a dozen new questions arise in his mind.
The goddess looks at him thoughtfully. Her gaze seems to penetrate deep into his soul, as if she is weighing up what she can tell him. Finally, she continues calmly. “You are remarkably similar to them. Your appearance, your stature, even your hat reminds me of my people, only yours is a little shorter. But most importantly...” She pauses for a moment, then there is a soft certainty in her voice. “Like them, you are highly imbued with wakfu.”
Izuku nods slowly, but his head is spinning. “Wakfu?” He mutters. The word is foreign to him. He is sure he has never heard it before. “I don't know this word.”
The goddess continues to look at him patiently. “Wakfu is an ancient magic,” she explains in a calm voice. “An energy that flows through everything that exists. It connects the world in an invisible web, permeating everything from the largest stars to the smallest stones. But it is strongest in things that are alive.”
Izuku catches his breath. Magic? All his life, he has believed that quirks are the only thing that makes people extraordinary. He has never heard of something called magic before. “Magic?” He finally utters softly.
The goddess smiles knowingly. “Yes, but not in the way you know from the stories of your world.” Her gaze becomes thoughtful. “It would probably be more appropriate to describe it as a different form of energy. A force that, when properly directed, can cause a wide variety of phenomena.”
Instinctively, Izuku thinks of his portals. He has been using this wakfu for years without knowing what it really is. Now he finally has the unique opportunity to get answers to his questions. A whole new world of possibilities is opening up before him. A world as unknown as the goddess who is floating in front of him.
Izuku feels small under her calm and knowing gaze. He lowers his head. “Like my portals?” he finally asks uncertainly.
“The portals are a skill that every Eliatrope has,” the goddess explains calmly. ‘Your portals are almost exactly like those of my children. That's why I thought you were one of them at first.”
Izuku ponders this for a moment before asking again. ’But how can that be? Why am I so similar to them?”
The goddess pauses. Her gentle floating comes to a halt for a moment, as if his question has taken her by surprise. Silence settles between them as she searches for an answer. When she finally speaks, her voice sounds more thoughtful than before.
“I'm not sure,” she admits. ”But these special abilities of your world...”
“You mean the quirks?“ Izuku interjects.
“Yes, exactly, the quirks.” She nods slightly. “That concept doesn't exist in my world. But if I interpret your memories correctly, it's possible that the concept of an Eliatrope has somehow wandered through the dimensions and taken shape in your world in the form of your quirk.”
Confused, Izuku frowns. “I don't understand,” he admits frankly.
For a moment, there is silence again. But then a broad grin spreads across the goddess's face. There is now clearly audible amusement in her voice. “Me neither. But unfortunately, that's all we have.”
Izuku blinks in surprise, then laughs softly. Her words take some of the severity out of the situation. He decides to leave the subject alone for now.
“You said that this wakfu...” He stumbles over the foreign word that lies unfamiliar on his tongue. ”...can cause various phenomena. Does that mean I could do more with it than create portals?”
The goddess tilts her head slightly as a knowing smile plays around her lips. “The possibilities are almost limitless,” she explains. “But portals are the most natural ability of an Eliatrope. They are an expression of their innate connection to the wakfu. However, that is not their only ability. For more complex applications, my children create machines, large and small, that use wakfu as an energy source.”
Izuku's eyes widen in fascination. “They build machines that run on wakfu?” he asks curiously. The thought of it sparks a new wave of enthusiasm in him. “How does it work?”
The goddess ponders this for a while. Her gaze wanders for a moment into the endless expanse around her before she finally answers quietly. ”I don't know.” She closes her eyes briefly, as if rummaging through old memories. “I rarely interfere in the lives of my people. Mostly I watch them from a distance. I was never interested in how their little devices work. But every time they experiment with new ideas and use their inventions to make their lives easier, it fills me with joy to watch them. It's beautiful.”
Izuku is surprised. He had expected a goddess to be omniscient and to have an answer to every question. But she talks about her ignorance so easily, as if it were nothing more than a trivial fact. Suddenly, she seems less like the unapproachable, almighty figure and more like a mother who looks proudly at her children's creative works. Perhaps these machines are no more than a picture drawn with crayons or a tower made of building blocks, pretty to look at but without deeper meaning.
While Izuku is still pondering this thought, the world around them begins to flicker. The glowing expanse trembles as if an invisible rift runs through reality. Izuku feels his surroundings lose substance and slowly dissolve.
The goddess frowns. Her usually calm presence seems tense, her voice becomes more hasty. “The connection is weakening. I can't stay much longer.”
Izuku's heart skips a beat. Panic grips him as he realizes how this moment is slipping away. ‘Please, wait!’ He calls, his hands clenching into fists. ”I still have so many questions!”
He tries desperately to organize his thoughts. There is so much he still wants to know, but the words do not come to mind quickly enough. Reflexively, he says the first thing that comes to mind: “Can you tell me more about wakfu?”
Again, one of her glowing strands of hair shoots towards him and gently touches his temple. A flood of images, emotions and knowledge rushes into his mind. Scenes of distant worlds, flying cities and alien beings flash before him. The history and travels of the Eliatropen, their achievements and knowledge – it is too vast to grasp or hold on to.
As the strand of hair retreats, Izuku can already feel the memories fading. The goddess looks at him gently. “I have given you the history of my people and much of their knowledge. Most of it will fade before you can really grasp it. But some things... will remain. Perhaps one day they will help you or inspire you.”
A lump forms in Izuku's throat as he watches her body slowly fade away. Its edges flicker and dissolve like grains of dust carried by the wind. A cool sadness fills him, and although he still wants to say something, he can only manage a single question.
“Will we meet again?”
The goddess pauses. There is gentleness in her gaze, but also a hint of regret. “No,” she replies softly. “This meeting is a one-time occurrence. Your dimension is very far away, and it has cost me a great deal of strength to reach you. Besides, traveling between dimensions is dangerous. There are worlds where even I wouldn't survive. Places where the laws of reality could instantly destroy me or where gods rule who won't tolerate visitors.”
Her smile becomes almost maternal. “The worlds are always in motion, Izuku. You'd be better off staying in your own neighborhood.”
Her form fades faster and faster, the turquoise lights around her lose their power.
“Farewell, Izuku Midoriya. Keep your kindness as best you can. I'm sure you'll achieve your dream.”
Desperate, Izuku reaches out to her, but he only feels cool air before the world around him sinks into deep darkness.
Izuku suddenly jolts upright and looks directly into two old, wrinkled eyes. They are so close to him that he cries out in fright and hastily pushes himself back to gain distance. Only now does he realize that he is lying on the floor. The eyes move back a bit, and slowly he recognizes the friendly face behind them. It only takes a moment for him to clearly identify the person. It's the teenage heroine Recovery Girl. Izuku has read a lot about her. She is one of the few heroines whose quirks can be cured.
Before he can pull himself together, he spontaneously blurts out while still lying on his back: “Can I have your autograph?”
Recovery Girl raises an eyebrow in surprise and then lightly taps him on the head with her walking stick. ‘You unreasonable little boy, you were unconscious until now!’ She reaches into her bag, takes out something and holds it out to Izuku.
Still a little dazed, Izuku carefully sits up and automatically opens his hand. Recovery Girl drops a few wine gums into it. “Eat, my boy. You're hardly injured, but you overstretched your quirk. These wine gums will give you new strength. I make them myself.”
Without waiting for an answer, Recovery Girl turns away and shouts, “Is anyone else injured?” Only now does Izuku realize that numerous other participants are standing around him, staring at him in amazement.
Still a little dazed, he puts the wine gums in his mouth and slowly gets up, his legs wobbling. As he chews, he can feel some of his strength slowly returning. Only his wakfu, that strange energy within him, is hardly regenerating at all and remains at a worryingly low level. The thought of wakfu brings the encounter with the goddess back to his mind. “Did I imagine that? But the memory is so vivid, it didn't feel like a dream.”
His thoughts are interrupted abruptly when a girl with an energetic step runs up to him. “Thank you so much for saving me!” she exclaims enthusiastically, stopping close in front of him. Izuku is momentarily confused and needs a few seconds to reconstruct the events before he lost consciousness. Suddenly, he remembers the giant robot and the girl trapped under the piece of debris.
“I'm so sorry I threw up on your shoes! I don't know how that happened. Actually, I hadn't overused my quirk yet, and this nausea felt quite different.” As the girl speaks, she moves closer and closer to him. Izuku feels the blush rising in his face. He hastily pulls his hat deeper into his face to hide his flushed cheeks. He turns slightly away from her and thinks desperately: “Too close! She's way too close!”
After a moment, the brown-haired girl notices his embarrassment and takes a step back. ‘Oh, I'm sorry, did I get too close to you?’ She bows slightly and says kindly, ”Thank you again, you saved my life. By the way, my name is Ochako Uraraka. Would you mind telling me your name?”
Izuku can hardly think straight. It has been over ten years since a girl his age spoke to him so nicely. The silence between them stretches uncomfortably until he finally pulls himself together. He carefully lifts his hat a little and looks Uraraka directly in the eye. “Nice to meet you. I'm Izuku Midoriya.”
Uraraka is about to reply when both of them suddenly receive a light blow from Recovery Girls' walking stick. “Come on, you two! The exam is over, you can't stand around here forever!” With further gentle blows, she energetically shooed the two of them towards the exit.
“For a doctor, she's surprisingly generous with her slaps,” Izuku thinks as they walk back to the main building together. On the short walk, Izuku finally begins to lose his nervousness, especially after asking Uraraka about her quirk. He quickly becomes engrossed in the conversation and enthusiastically philosophizes about possible theories, while his excitement slowly gives way to enthusiasm.
At the main entrance, Uraraka finally says goodbye with a warm smile. “It was really nice to meet you, Izuku. And thanks again for saving me! I have something to do at school, but I really hope that we both make it into the hero course and see each other again there.” Before Izuku can reply, she has already disappeared into the building.
Izuku watches her go for a moment, feeling an unfamiliar warmth inside. He sincerely hopes that they will indeed see each other again soon. Maybe they can become friends. Just the thought of having become closer to someone during the entrance exam than he has been in the last ten years fills him with a strange but pleasant feeling of confidence. With a slight smile, Izuku finally makes his way home.
That evening, Izuku lies exhausted in his bed and stares at the ceiling. The events of the day twist and turn in his mind as if he could better organize or understand them that way. It was a day full of unexpected twists, and his thoughts jump restlessly from one memory to the next.
First, there was the written exam, which was very challenging for him. Although Izuku is almost certain that he answered most of the questions well, the last three questions, which left him at a loss, are still bothering him. Even more, his thoughts revolve around the practical exam. The sight of the huge robot with its menacing silhouette has burned itself deeply into his mind and still makes him shiver. How did he manage to overcome this mechanical colossus?
Involuntarily, his thoughts turn to the encounter that left him most baffled and confused. The strange conversation with the goddess Eliatrope. Although he was initially certain that he had only dreamed the encounter, it now feels too real and too intense to have been mere imagination. Izuku closes his eyes and tries to recall every detail again. The turquoise glow, her gentle voice and the strange feeling of warmth and awe that her mere presence triggered in him.
Izuku shakes his head slightly to try and sort out his thoughts. But there is something else that is bothering him today, and it seems almost more unreal than meeting the goddess. He actually spoke to a girl. And not only that. He even saved her. A warm tingling spreads in his chest when he thinks of her kind words and her radiant smile with which she said goodbye to him. “I hope you make it too,” he mutters softly into the darkness. He still feels the pleasant surprise that someone is really looking forward to seeing him again.
But there is still a shadow of uncertainty. He will have to wait a whole week for the results. A week in which he does not know exactly how many points he has achieved, nor whether these will be enough to be accepted. When he made the two Three-Pointer robots collide, he completely lost track of his points. There could be thirty or more. But how much will ultimately be needed is unknown to him. Izuku sighs heavily and turns restlessly to the side. Nevertheless, a determination awakens in him that surprises even himself. He will not let this week pass unused. He will continue to train and learn. The goddess's words echo in his mind and give him strength. He wants to test, try, and find out more about his powers.
Slowly, Izuku relaxes again, and fatigue finally catches up with him. With thoughts that oscillate between doubt and hope, he slowly lets go of the day and slides into a restless but ultimately restful sleep.
A bright ray of sunlight hits Izuku directly in the face and once again pulls him out of his dreams. Grumpily, he turns on his side and tries in vain to ignore the disturbing brightness. But now that he is awake, his thoughts quickly return. Above all, the encounter with the goddess Eliatrope does not leave him. The knowledge she has given him is a great mystery to him.
As soon as he closes his eyes and concentrates, a flood of images washes over him, passing by far too quickly. They seem chaotic, blurry, almost like a wild dream. Izuku desperately tries to make sense of them, but he can't. Again and again, fragments, landscapes, strange creatures and places appear that he has never seen before. The goddess explained to him that he still has other abilities lying dormant within him. It's as if she's given him a huge library, but all the books are written in a foreign language and he's constantly losing individual copies forever.
In a week he will receive the results of the U.A. entrance exam, and until then he mustn't waste any time. He resolutely decides to use these days meaningfully. The goddess's words still echo in his head. She said that she could feel the wakfu within him and that it exists all around him. Izuku has been pursuing an idea ever since that won't let go of him. Maybe he can learn to perceive this mysterious energy not only within himself, but also in his surroundings.
After a quick breakfast, he sets off for the nearby forest, a place that has become his personal retreat in the last few weeks and months. The trees, which were recently bare and dull, are now back in full splendor. Lush greenery and delicate flowers make the forest look fresh and vibrant. Here, far from prying eyes, Izuku feels safe and free. The peace of the forest gives him strength and confidence.
He has barely reached his favorite clearing when he breathes in deeply. The soft rustling of the leaves and the gentle splashing of a stream fill him with a pleasant calm. He sits down on the soft moss on the bank and slowly closes his eyes. His thoughts return to the goddess's words. Wakfu is in everything, it connects everything, especially life. He tries to perceive this energy consciously, to focus his senses on the world around him.
But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts do not remain calm for long. They keep wandering to the exam, to the U.A. and to the crucial question of what he should do if he is not accepted. These nagging doubts make it impossible for him to truly let go and focus on his task.
After what feels like an eternity, his stomach growls loudly, mercilessly demanding a break. His already tenuous concentration finally breaks. Frustrated, he opens his eyes and looks resignedly into the clear water of the stream.
Izuku tries a few more times, but his mind keeps wandering. Finally, when the sun is already lower in the sky and its rays shine gently between the treetops, he gives up. Disappointed, tired and hungry, he gets up from the ground, brushes the dirt off his knees and slowly makes his way home.
His shoulders slump and each step feels weighed down by the burden of his disappointment. No progress. Of course he knows he can't expect to succeed on his first try, but he's still frustrated by his own impatience. Maybe it's normal to struggle at first, he thinks, but the feeling of failure weighs heavily on him.
On his way home, he crosses the streets of his neighborhood, but his thoughts remain in the forest. He decides to go back there tomorrow. Maybe then he will be able to block out his worries and fully engage with the wakfu.
Exhausted, Izuku opens the front door and enters the apartment. Immediately, he is greeted by the familiar smell of roasted meat and warm rice, which makes his stomach growl loudly again. Inko is already standing at the stove and looks up when she hears him.
“Welcome home, Izuku,” she greets him with a gentle and encouraging smile. ‘Dinner will be ready in a moment.”
“Thanks, Mom,’ he mutters wearily and sinks into a kitchen chair.
Inko gives her son a scrutinizing look and immediately notices the tiredness and disappointment in his eyes. Without saying a word, she places a plate of steaming katsudon in front of him, his favorite meal. He gazes at the carefully arranged meal for a moment before sighing deeply and nervously playing with his fingers.
“I'm just not getting anywhere, Mom,” he finally begins quietly. ”I wanted to practice today to get better, but no matter how hard I try, it just doesn't work. My mind keeps wandering.”
There is frustration in his voice, and his eyes are fixed on the food as if he is looking for answers in it.
Inko sits down gently across from him and studies him carefully. Her voice is calm and understanding as she asks, “What exactly did you want to practice?” “Is it about your quirk?”
Izuku nods slightly, being careful not to reveal too much. He's unsure whether he should tell someone about his encounter with the goddess. He doesn't want anyone to think he's crazy. “Yes, I try to perceive my energy not only within me but also outside of me. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't feel anything. I just can't concentrate, but I have a feeling that it should be possible.”
He cautiously raises his eyes to gauge her reaction. But she just continues to look at him sympathetically, without showing the slightest skepticism.
“Izuku,” she begins gently, ”you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Maybe you're trying to force it instead of just letting it happen. When you're too focused on something, you often miss the simplest things.”
Izuku looks at her in confusion while she continues smiling, “You know, sometimes something only works when you stop thinking about it. If you concentrate on it too much, you block yourself. Next time, try to clear your mind. Take your time, relax and be open, without any pressure or expectations. Only then will you really be able to feel what is happening around you.”
Her words have a calming effect on him, like a gentle rain that softens the dry earth. Slowly, he feels a knot in his chest loosen.
“Maybe you're right, Mama,” he mutters thoughtfully. Her words have an effect, and a small, cautious smile appears on his lips. “I'll try again tomorrow. This time without pressure.”
His mother nods encouragingly and squeezes his hand lightly. ”I know you can do it, Izuku. You've overcome so many obstacles already. I'm sure you'll manage this time too.”
The rest of the evening passes with quiet conversation. Izuku talks about his worries and doubts, and Inko listens patiently, alleviating his concerns or at least making them more bearable. With each passing minute, Izuku feels his inner tension ebbing away until he finally feels better.
When he goes to bed that night, his worries have not gone away, but they no longer weigh so heavily on him. His thoughts feel calmer and more focused. Above all, he feels something that he has been missing before. It is confidence. He knows that he is still a long way from reaching his goal. But now he firmly believes that he is on the right track.
The next morning, Izuku uses the route to the forest for his daily running training. It is early, the air is pleasantly cool and fresh, and each of his steps is accompanied by a calm, even breathing rhythm. When he finally arrives at his familiar clearing, a feeling of peace and quiet spreads through him. The small lake, its surface glistening in the morning sun, seems like a silent mirror of the nature around him.
Slowly, Izuku sits down on a large, flat stone that the sun has pleasantly warmed. He closes his eyes and first focuses on banishing all conscious thoughts from his mind. He gently but firmly suppresses every disturbing thought, every emerging fear or worry. Little by little, he sinks deeper into himself until his mind feels like a calm lake, perfectly still and clear.
When Izuku is ready, he gently turns his attention outward. First, he focuses on his breathing. He feels his chest rising and falling and feels the cool, fresh air filling his lungs. Then he expands his perception to the light touch of his clothes, which lies pleasantly soft on his skin. He is now clearly aware of the gentle wind that caresses his hair and makes the leaves rustle softly.
Gradually, he expands his perception to include his entire surroundings. Only now does he notice how many different animals are around him. He hears a wide variety of insects and birds. For a brief moment, he thinks he hears something bigger that sounds more like a bird than an insect, but it is running on the ground and rustling through the grass. But then the sound suddenly disappears again. Izuku tries hard to locate the small creature again, but it makes no more sound, and the other noises also gradually move further away. Frustrated, he finally opens his eyes, driven by impatience to see what might have been there.
At that moment, an intense turquoise light permeates his consciousness, as if someone had flipped a switch inside him. The familiar world with its bright, vibrant colors is no longer there. Instead, a surreal scene reveals itself in striking shades of black and turquoise.
Izuku's breath catches in wonder. Every stone, every tree, every blade of grass is suddenly surrounded by dark contours, criss-crossed by pulsating, turquoise lines of energy. It seems as if life itself is flowing around him in visible channels. Even the smallest details emerge as if drawn by light. Those things that move shine particularly brightly. These radiant points seem to be living beings, their energy glowing more intensely than anything else.
For a moment, Izuku is completely overwhelmed by the beauty and complexity of his new perception. Even the smallest insects are clearly visible, and he can see every single fish in the lake, gliding elegantly through the water. Everything seems interconnected, a fascinating, living web of energy that had previously remained hidden from him.
“Wow, this is amazing,” he murmurs in awe.
He barely blinks, and the familiar colors suddenly return. The sudden disappearance of the new view leaves a strange feeling of loss. Nevertheless, he also feels deep joy at his first successful attempt, even though this joy is slightly clouded because he has obviously frightened away the small animal.
After a few minutes of rest, Izuku tries again. This time it takes him barely a minute to switch to the new perception. Immediately, black and turquoise return, and he sees the world again in its fascinating, energetic clarity. Once more, he feels the life around him vividly and intensely. The fish swim quietly through the small pond, while birds chirp among the treetops. Their outlines glow brightly, and Izuku realizes that he is actually perceiving their life energy, the wakfu.
For minutes, he remains motionless, frozen in awe and admiration. But slowly, a dull pain spreads behind his temples. It takes a lot of concentration to maintain this perception, and he feels his strength waning. He is hardly using any wakfu, but the effort is noticeably exhausting him. He carefully ends the new perception, and the world returns to its usual colors.
Exhausted, Izuku slowly rubs his temples. His head hums unpleasantly, but it is bearable. He looks at the calm lake in front of him and a satisfied, proud smile spreads across his lips, while his heart still beats faster.
“I think I'll call it the wakfu vision,” he finally mutters softly to himself. A feeling of satisfaction and confidence fills him. He has discovered a new level of his abilities and knows deep in his heart that he has taken a significant step on his way to becoming a hero.
In the days that follow, Izuku devotes his full attention to exploring his wakfu vision. Unfortunately, the weekend is over and school is starting again. But as soon as class ends and he stops by home to change and grab a bite to eat, he heads to the hidden clearing in the forest. This place has become as familiar to him as a second home. Here he can practice undisturbed, experiment and slowly improve his new abilities. His goal is clear. He not only wants to understand how this special view works, but also to find out how he can use it optimally on his future path as a hero.
At first, the unfamiliar perception causes him difficulties. It is difficult for him to maintain the wakfu view for more than a few minutes before his concentration and strength run out. But Izuku does not get discouraged and continues to practice patiently. Gradually, he begins to notice the first signs of progress. Soon, the energetic patterns appear clearer and more distinct to him. To his great joy, he realizes that every living thing has a unique wakfu signature. He can perceive the birds, fish and even small insects, even when they are hidden behind other objects or outside his normal field of vision.
But as fascinating as this new vision is, it requires him to concentrate extremely hard. Every evening, his head throbs with pain. A hot bath gives him some relief, but the pain doesn't completely go away until the next morning. Izuku suspects that his brain is working at full speed when he uses his wakfu vision. However, with each passing day it becomes easier for him, and he manages to maintain the view longer before the headache sets in. That's why Izuku assumes that his brain first has to learn how to properly process the many new impressions.
The more he experiments, the clearer it becomes to him how well the wakfu view can be combined with his portals. Previously, he could only create his portals where his gaze reached. But now a whole new world of possibilities is opening up to him. Izuku activates his wakfu vision and focuses on a large tree. His goal is to create a portal behind it. But the tree is giving him a hard time at first. In his perception, it glows so intensely that it looks like it is on fire. After a few minutes, Izuku finally manages to fade out the bright light and instead perceive the delicate wakfu structures of moss and grass behind it.
His enthusiasm knows no bounds. It feels like he is standing in a noisy hall, blocking out all the noise to follow a single conversation. Izuku pulls himself together, pulls himself out of his thoughts, and concentrates on opening a portal behind the tree. With a pounding heart, he steps through and finds himself exactly where he had planned to be. He breaks out in a triumphant laugh of relief. “It works!” he cries, full of joy.
But he quickly realizes that his ability has clear limits. As the distance increases, the wakfu signatures become weaker and more blurred. It takes him much more concentration to focus on a distant target, and this quickly exhausts him. His wakfu vision extends approximately one hundred meters, but it does not end abruptly. Izuku suspects that his perception works passively, since all objects and animals radiate wakfu and become increasingly difficult to see with increasing distance. He tries to extend the range of his vision, but even a few additional meters exhaust him massively. That's why he decides to train within his normal range first and, above all, to improve the duration of his vision.
As the week finally comes to an end, Izuku looks back with satisfaction on his progress. He leaves the clearing exhausted, but with a satisfied smile. In these few days, he has learned an enormous amount about himself and his quirks. Now he has no choice but to wait anxiously for the results of the entrance exam.
The week dragged on painfully and yet it had passed at a dizzying pace. But now, finally, the day has come that Izuku has been waiting for, both eagerly and anxiously. He sits on the sofa in the living room, staring at the dark screen of the switched-off television. His heart is beating way too fast and a heavy nervousness is settling over his body. The longed-for news could arrive at any second, but so far there is an oppressive silence that is almost unbearable.
His mother has taken time off work especially to experience this important moment together with him. She watches Izuku anxiously and repeatedly tries to engage him in conversation or to distract him from his tension with casual remarks. But Izuku hardly reacts at all. Even at lunch, he chews the same piece of fish for minutes on end, without really noticing what he is doing. His gaze wanders into the void again and again, and his hands tremble as he clutches the cutlery tightly.
Every sound makes him jump. The neighbors' footsteps on the stairs or the distant sound of passing cars make his pulse skyrocket every time. Finally, Inko gets up, tries to calm her own heartbeat and nervously wipes her hands on her apron dry. “I'll see if the mail has arrived yet.”
Izuku nods silently, swallows hard and remains tense on the couch. His thoughts go round in circles and a cold uneasiness takes hold of his limbs. Hope and nagging doubts alternate within him.
A few moments later, the front door opens again and Inko hastily returns. Izuku looks up and sees his mother's wide-set eyes, her excited, uncertain expression, and the large white envelope she is holding.
“Izuku, it's here,” Inko says with a trembling voice, carefully holding up the envelope from the U.A.
Izuku jumps up abruptly and almost staggers as he runs towards her and takes the letter with trembling fingers. With a quiet and tense voice, he looks hopefully up at his mother. “Thank you, Mom. I'd like to open it alone in my room.”
Understanding, she puts a warm hand on his shoulder and gives him an encouraging smile. “Of course, my darling. I'll wait outside.”
With his heart pounding, Izuku closes the door to his room behind him and sits down at his desk. He takes a deep breath and looks at the envelope in his hand. It feels unusually thick and contains something solid. Izuku carefully opens the envelope and a small holoprojector clatters onto the tabletop.
Izuku looks at the small device in amazement and is about to reach for it when it activates by itself and projects a bright, colorful hologram. The dazzling figure of Present Mic appears and his energetic voice immediately fills the room.
“HEEEEY, listeners! This is your man at the microphone, PRESENT MIC! Are you ready for your personal results show? Then buckle up and listen carefully!” he shouts with exuberant enthusiasm, pointing directly at Izuku with a sweeping gesture.
Izuku's heart is racing as he stares at the hologram. He clenches his hands into fists, full of hope, expectation, and barely contained excitement.
“Let's start with the written exam, and you did really well, my friend. With a phenomenal result, you have catapulted yourself straight into second place in the entire hero course. Oh YEAH, what an achievement!”
Izuku feels pride and surprise rising equally in him as his hands nervously cling to the edge of the table.
“But let's move on to the practical exam, the supreme discipline! Here, too, you really blew us away. You collected a whopping 35 villain points, you really dealt out some punishment, young listener!”
Present Mic underlines his statement with dramatic boxing movements in the air, and Izuku feels his cheeks getting hot.
“But wait!” Present Mic suddenly continues seriously, raising a finger meaningfully. Izuku's heart skips a beat. ‘That's not all by a long shot! You see, we examiners had a little something extra up our sleeves – rescue points!’ He gives him a conspiratorial wink. ”These secret points were awarded for extraordinary heroism and selfless service!”
Izuku holds his breath. He hardly dares to hope, as Present Mic takes a deep breath and finally announces loudly: “And right here you absolutely convinced us, my dear! You have earned an incredible 37 rescue points. This brings you to a grand total of 72 points!”
Present Mic claps his hands enthusiastically, while Izuku's heart is almost bursting with joy and relief.
“Congratulations, young Midoriya! You have passed the entrance exam and are now officially a student of U.A.! Welcome to the hero league – YEAH!”
The image of Present Mic fades with a last broad grin, and a detailed scoreboard appears before Izuku's eyes, clearly displaying all the results of the practical exam. Izuku stares in disbelief and overjoyed at his name, while a broad smile slowly appears on his face.
NO. 1 KATSUKI BAKUGO: V 77 | R 0
NO. 2 EIJIRO KIRISHIMA: V 39 | R 35
NO. 3 OCHACO URARAKA: V 28 | R 45
NO. 4 IZUKU MIDORIYA: V 35 | R 37
NO. 5 IBARA SHIOZAKI: V 36 | R 32
NO. 6 ITSUKA KENDO: V 25 | R 40
NO. 7 TENYA IDA: V 52 | R 9
NO. 8 TETSUTETSU TETSUTETSU: V 49 | R 10
NO. 9 FUMIKAGE TOKOYAMI: V 47 | R 10
NO. 10 YOSETSU AWASE: V 50 | R 6
Izuku looks at his name again and again. The letters blur before his eyes as a flood of emotions spreads deep in his chest. Tears run down his cheeks, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He sobs with relief and happiness and presses both hands to his face. He has actually made it, his biggest dream is finally coming true.
Minutes after the projection has faded, Izuku stares motionlessly at the empty space above his desk where Present Mic's jubilant face was just visible. Finally, he forces himself to get up and slowly opens the door.
His mother is waiting in the hallway with a restless, expectant look. Her body is tense and her hands are trembling as they clasp each other, while she looks at him questioningly. Izuku lowers his head, takes a deep breath and raises it again, a blissful smile on his lips.
“I did it, Mom,” he whispers with a voice choked with tears, looking his mother directly in the eye. ”I'm in.”
No sooner has he spoken the words than Inko begins to cry immediately. Sobbing and smiling at the same time, she pulls her son into a firm, warm embrace, as if she never wants to let him go again.
“I knew you could do it, Izuku!” she says proudly and happily, her voice trembling with emotion. ”I always believed in you.”
Izuku holds her tight, breathes a sigh of relief and simply savors this moment, which seems to him like the first step into a new, exciting life.
Notes:
I didn't actually plan to include any characters from Wakfu. But I wanted Izuku to know something about Wakfu and the Eliatropen and I couldn't think of anything else that I liked. But the encounter with the goddess should really be a one-time thing. Please tell me how you liked the chapter. I would be particularly interested to know how you liked the encounter with the goddess and his new ability.
Please also tell me if you find any mistakes in the chapter.
Chapter 6: Quirk Apprehension Test
Summary:
What can I say, it's Izuku's first day at U.A.
Notes:
First of all, thank you for all the comments and wow, over 4000 views already, that's really cool.
This chapter took me longer than I wanted it to. I finished the rough draft two weeks ago, but I couldn't bring myself to go through it all again, even though it was necessary. And then I started playing Satisfactory again :) It's such a time waster.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It's a beautiful spring day. The warm sun pours golden rays over the bustling streets, while the trees stand in rich, vibrant green. Their leaves rustle softly in the gentle breeze, carrying the scent of fresh flowers. Today is Izuku's first day at U.A., and he still can't believe he's actually been accepted into this famous school for heroes. Excitement and pride mix inside him, creating a pleasant warmth accompanied by a slight nervousness that has been with him since early morning.
Over the past few weeks, he has trained intensively to further improve his skills and prepare for the challenges ahead. He has now mastered his Wakfu vision so well that he can use it for hours on end. However, he noticed that his eyes glow a striking turquoise color when he does so. This made it difficult to use his ability in public without being noticed. Fortunately, he quickly found a simple solution. With a little practice, he managed to dampen the sensitivity of his vision enough to make the glow disappear. The price he paid, however, was a significantly reduced range.
But that opened up new possibilities for him. He learned to combine his Wakfu perception with his normal vision. Even though some details were lost in the process, this combination was more comfortable and much less tiring in everyday life.
The last few weeks at Aldera High have been challenging. Since Bakugo found out that Izuku came fourth in the entrance exam, he seems to be boiling with rage. Izuku can feel his aggression as soon as they are in the same room. Bakugo probably sees the high score as a personal insult. But Izuku no longer rises to his provocations. He decided long ago that he would no longer waste his energy and time on such games.
Thanks to his new abilities, he can now use his portals much more efficiently to avoid confrontations with Bakugo and his followers. With the help of his Wakfu vision, he makes sure that no one is at the destination of his portals who could observe him. Even though it is officially forbidden to use his quirk in public, hardly anyone seems to mind when it comes to Bakugo. But Izuku doesn't want to push his luck. Besides, keeping it a secret gives him an advantage. As long as Bakugo doesn't know about his quirk, he can't develop a strategy against it.
It clearly frustrates Bakugo that he hardly ever sees Izuku outside of class. Even when he occasionally spots him in the schoolyard, Izuku usually disappears before he can even reach him. As soon as they lose sight of him for even a moment, he's gone. Once, it was particularly close. Bakugo and his henchmen were chasing him and had almost surrounded him. Only a spontaneous jump into an empty toilet saved him. One of them was close on his heels, but Izuku had already used his Wakfu vision to see that the room was empty. He had placed a portal in one of the stalls in the hallway, pushed the door open, and literally jumped inside. His pursuer rushed into the room shortly after, but found the bathroom empty. From a safe distance, Izuku watched as Bakugo and the others arrived shortly after. The mere thought of how his pursuer would try to explain the incident brought a broad grin to his face. This game of cat and mouse, which he had now mastered with ease, continued until his last day at Aldera High.
Today, however, Izuku stands at a new threshold. Entering the U.A. is not only a challenge, but also a long-awaited new beginning. It is an opportunity to finally free himself from the shadows of the past. A deep sense of anticipation fills him. A small, honest smile spreads across his lips as he takes determined steps toward his new goal.
The impressive buildings of the U.A. come into view. He sees them with his own eyes for the second time, and yet their sight is so overwhelming and awe-inspiring that it takes his breath away for a moment. Although he is now officially a student at this school, the thought still feels strangely unreal. With quick but somewhat uncertain steps, Izuku hurries through the wide, bright corridors in search of his classroom: 1-A.
Suddenly, he stops.
A familiar Wakfu signature enters his perception, and his heart skips a beat. He swallows hard. Of course, he had known that Bakugo had also been accepted. But deep down, he had hoped they would end up in different classes. Izuku pauses for a moment, then uses Bakugo's signature as a guide. The classrooms are probably next to each other. With every step that brings him closer to his destination, he feels his initial confidence waning.
A few moments later, he finally stands in front of the door. Above the entrance, the number “1-A” is emblazoned in large, clear letters. Izuku stares at the inscription for a moment, sighs quietly, and mutters, “Damn... he's in my class again.”
He takes a deep breath, then slowly pushes the door aside and enters cautiously.
He had already seen from outside that most of the students were already there. Only a few are missing, but at least he's not the last one. It's a small consolation, but it does little to ease his nervousness.
No one seems to notice him as he quietly slips into the room. His gaze automatically wanders to the back. There sits Bakugo, his feet demonstratively resting on the desk, as if he owns the classroom. Directly in front of him stands a tall boy with neatly styled dark blue hair. His posture is upright, almost stiff, as he speaks in a clear, instructive voice.
“Don't you have any respect for school property?”
Izuku recognizes him immediately. It's the same student who had reprimanded him during orientation for muttering too loudly. An unpleasant memory that immediately causes his stomach to tighten.
Bakugo responds with a dismissive snort, leaning back provocatively and eyeing the blue-haired boy with a scornful grin. “What fancy school did you come out of?”
The tall boy unconsciously straightens up a little more, now looking almost like a statue. With audible pride, he replies, ”I went to Somei.”
A cruel gleam appears in Bakugo's eyes, his grin widening. “Somei, huh? One of those snobby elite schools? Perfect. At least it'll be worth killing you.”
The other boy takes a step back, visibly shocked. His face fluctuates between indignation and uncertainty. ”What... kill me? Do you even want to be a hero?”
Izuku feels the familiar mixture of frustration and despair building up inside him. Not even five minutes in his new class, and Bakugo is already causing trouble again. But this time there's something else. A small, cautious hope stirs within him. Maybe things will be different here. Maybe there are people in this class who will stand up to Bakugo. People who can bring about change.
Then Bakugo's gaze suddenly falls on Izuku, who is still standing rooted to the spot in the doorway. In the blink of an eye, the mockery disappears from his face. All that remains is pure anger.
“Deku, you damn nerd!” he yells, his voice booming throughout the classroom.
Without hesitation, Bakugo jumps up and stomps toward Izuku with quick, aggressive steps. Instantly, all eyes are on the scene. Izuku's heart pounds in his chest. In the past few weeks, he had managed to avoid Bakugo. Apparently, all the pent-up anger has now been unleashed.
Before Izuku can react, Bakugo grabs him by the collar and pulls him brutally toward him. The fabric cuts painfully into his neck, and he gasps for air in fright. Panic flares up inside him. Normally, Bakugo at least restrains himself a little in front of others. But this time, his anger seems to have completely overwhelmed him.
“How the hell did you pass the exam, you pathetic weakling?” Bakugo hisses in his face. His voice is full of contempt. ”A worthless pebble like you has no place here!”
Izuku gasps for breath but forces himself to remain calm. With a tense but firm voice, he replies, “Your opinion doesn't matter. You don't decide who belongs here.”
His words sound calm, but every sound costs him strength.
He could easily break free if he used his Wakfu. But he holds back. Not on the first day. Not here. Escalating the situation would jeopardize everything. Part of him fears that things at U.A. could turn out the same as they did at Aldera. That everyone will look away or, as so often before, side with Bakugo.
But this time, everything is different.
For a moment, there is frozen silence. Then the class begins to stir.
The tall student with dark blue hair, who had already clashed with Bakugo earlier, raises his arms energetically. “This is completely unacceptable! Let him go right now!” he shouts in a firm voice.
Another student with a powerful build and wild, spiky red hair steps forward decisively and grabs Bakugo's arm. “Hey man, what's this? That's totally unmanly!”
A girl with long, black hair neatly tied back in a ponytail seems indecisive for a moment. But then she lifts her chin and calls out in a clear voice, “Such behavior will not be tolerated at U.A. If you don't let him go immediately, there will be consequences!”
Bakugo growls, his gaze sweeping angrily around the group. ‘Shut up, you damn extras!’ he hisses, but his grip weakens.
Slowly, he seems to realize that he is no longer at his old school. That he can't just do whatever he wants here.
With a contemptuous click of his tongue, he pushes Izuku away. Izuku loses his balance, stumbles backwards, and hits the floor hard. A collective gasp goes through the room.
Then silence falls.
Bakugo stomps back to his seat without another word. The entire classroom seems frozen.
Slowly, Izuku gets back to his feet. His gaze wanders around the room. And what he sees in the faces of his new classmates surprises him. No looking away. No indifference. Instead, rejection, anger, and honest incomprehension at Bakugo's behavior.
For the first time in a long time, Izuku feels something that has become foreign to him.
Hope.
Izuku shakes himself briefly, takes a deep breath, and is about to stand up again when suddenly a slender hand appears in front of him. Surprised, he looks up and sees the determined but friendly face of the girl with the long black ponytail. For a moment, he is completely taken aback and stares at her with wide eyes before regaining his composure. He quickly and gratefully takes her hand and lets her help him to his feet.
“Thank you very much,” Izuku says quietly and bows slightly, his cheeks reddening a little. His gaze wanders to the other two who also helped him, and he bows respectfully to them as well.
The red-haired boy gives him a broad, open grin and gives him a thumbs up. “Oh, it's no problem. By the way, my name is Eijiro Kirishima.”
His warm smile eases some of Izuku's tension. Just as he is about to introduce himself, the door opens again. Another girl enters.
“Oh, it's you,” Ochako exclaims cheerfully when she sees Izuku. Her face lights up and she waves enthusiastically at him. ”How nice that we're in the same class.”
Her warm voice breaks the tense atmosphere and draws everyone's attention back to Izuku. Before he can reply, a deep, tired voice sounds directly behind Ochako.
“If you're just here to make friends, then you're definitely in the wrong place.”
Confused, everyone turns toward the door. The voice belongs to a figure that at first glance looks more like an oversized yellow caterpillar than a human being. Only upon closer inspection do they recognize a badly crumpled sleeping bag with a man peeking out of the opening.
With a tired look, he slowly crawls into the classroom, drags himself to the teacher's desk, and straightens up with an audible sigh. As he takes off his sleeping bag, he continues speaking.
“You're all much too slow.” His voice sounds indifferent, but there is something in it that brooks no contradiction. ”It took you exactly eleven seconds to calm down. That is unacceptable. I expect you to do it faster in the future.”
The man standing in front of them, with his disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes, and overall unkempt appearance, looks more like a vagrant than a teacher. But his calm, determined manner immediately attracts attention.
“I am your homeroom teacher,” he explains without emotion. ”My name is Shota Aizawa. You can call me Mr. Aizawa or, if you must, by my hero name, Eraserhead.”
Thoughts begin to race through Izuku's head. He knows almost all of Japan's registered heroes, at least the ones who are regularly in the spotlight. But the name means nothing to him. Even among the lesser-known heroes who work more in the shadows, he can't think of anyone with that name. And that's exactly what makes his heart beat faster.
A hero he doesn't know. A blank spot in his knowledge.
The temptation to dive into his thoughts is great. He would love to start analyzing Eraserhead right away. His appearance, his posture, everything he can deduce from his brief appearance. But he forces himself to stay focused. Now is not the time to get lost in it.
As he collects himself, Mr. Aizawa calmly reaches into his sleeping bag and pulls out a wrinkled, dark suit.
“Take your gym clothes and get changed. We'll meet on the sports field,” Mr. Aizawa says dryly, without further explanation. Then he turns around and leaves the classroom without responding to questions or possible protests.
For a moment, the class remains silent, confused and somewhat indecisive. But finally, the students get up and make their way to the changing rooms together.
In the changing room, Eijiro turns to Izuku again with his typical broad grin. “By the way, I didn't catch your name earlier.”
Izuku looks up in surprise and notices that the tall student with dark blue hair is now looking over at them with interest. “Oh, sorry,” he says quickly, trying to balance awkwardly on one leg as he tries to pull on his gym shorts. “I'm Izuku Midoriya.”
“Tenya Iida,” the other introduces himself politely, his voice overly formal. ‘I recently transferred from Somei. I'm glad to finally get to know you properly.’ His tone becomes more serious, almost a little subdued, as he continues. ”To be honest, I was quite impressed by you during the entrance exam. You immediately recognized what the test was really about.”
Izuku feels the blood rush to his face. Gesturing wildly, he tries to dismiss the praise. “I-I didn't know how the exam was structured. I just saw that Uraraka needed help, so I acted.”
Eijiro's eyes widen, and for a moment it looks like he's about to explode with excitement. “Wow! That's really manly of you!” he exclaims, his broad grin widening even more.
Izuku smiles sheepishly and quickly turns away to change his shirt. But he soon realizes that this is going to be difficult. Since he doesn't want to take off his hat under any circumstances, he has to carefully maneuver the top over his head without the fabric getting caught. It takes a while before he finally has his sports shirt on.
“Hey, Midoriya,“ Kirishima begins cautiously after watching him for a while. ‘Wouldn't it be much easier if you took your hat off for a moment?”
The question catches Izuku off guard. His cheeks flush red. ’Ah, um... I don't feel comfortable taking my hat off in public,” he says quickly, somewhat awkwardly.
Before Eijiro can reply, a boy with a striking raven head turns toward them. His dark eyes are calm and serious. In a deep voice, he says, “Some things must remain hidden in darkness.”
Tenya looks at him in confusion at first, but then he seems to understand. “I think Tokoyami means that some things are better left unquestioned,” he explains with a slightly diplomatic undertone. “Midoriya must have his reasons for not taking off his hat.”
Eijiro immediately looks guilty and scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. “Oh man, I'm really sorry, Midoriya. I didn't even think about it.”
“Oh, it's okay,” Izuku replies quickly, waving him off defensively. He doesn't want Kirishima to feel bad. “You couldn't have known.”
After that, the locker room falls silent. Most of the boys in Class 1-A get changed in silence.
On their way to the sports field, the students can already see Mr. Aizawa waiting for them from a distance. He is standing at the edge of the field. At first glance, his expression seems bored, but Izuku also sees a certain impatience in his eyes.
Although Izuku was one of the last boys to get changed, he notices that some of his classmates are still missing. To be precise, not a single girl is to be seen yet.
As he scans the grounds again, he finally discovers the reason. The girls are leaving the changing rooms together. They are chatting with each other, seem relaxed, and appear to already get along well. Izuku counts them involuntarily and is surprised to find that someone is still missing.
However, the class does not have to wait long. Shortly afterwards, a blond boy emerges from the boys' changing room. With his head held high and a demonstratively leisurely gait, he approaches the waiting group as if all attention is focused on him.
Mr. Aizawa watches the whole thing with growing dissatisfaction. When all the students are finally gathered, he speaks in a monotone voice: “This is extremely disappointing. Your speed leaves much to be desired.”
Tenya Iida immediately raises his hand, almost mechanically. “Sensei, what exactly are we doing here? Shouldn't we be attending the orientation event?”
Mr. Aizawa fixes him with a tired, expressionless gaze. It's hard to tell what's going on inside him. After a moment, he speaks calmly but firmly.
“We teachers at U.A. have a high degree of freedom in our decision-making. Your time at this school is limited. I don't intend to waste it on unnecessary things. It is my job to train you to become fully-fledged heroes within three years. I consider anything that distracts you from this goal to be superfluous. Anyone who is only here to make friends or have a pleasant school experience is in the wrong place. In that case, it would be better to leave now.”
A palpable pressure descends on the group. The mood changes, a nervous silence spreads, and uncertain glances are exchanged.
Finally, a girl with pink skin hesitantly raises her hand. Her voice is uncertain as she asks, “What exactly are we doing out here on the sports field?”
Mr. Aizawa barely reacts. But for a moment, a hint of interest flickers in his eyes. Nevertheless, he continues to look as if he would rather crawl back into his sleeping bag immediately.
“Today you will take the sports test you already know from middle school,“ he explains in a tone that brooks no discussion.
“The ministry is lazy,” Mr. Aizawa begins in his usual monotone voice. “Although it no longer makes any sense to evaluate students solely on the basis of standardized sports tests, this test has hardly changed in decades. The officials still want to be able to conveniently categorize students.”
He pauses briefly and lets his tired gaze wander through the rows. “However, I will be modifying this test slightly. You are allowed to use your quirks.”
A quiet murmur ripples through the group. Some students sit up straight, curiosity and surprise evident on their faces.
“Bakugo,” Mr. Aizawa says without further ado and throws him a softball in one fluid motion. Bakugo catches it with one hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. ”You had the highest score on the entrance exam. Go over there and show your class what you can do. You can use your quirk as long as you stay within the marked area.”
A smug grin spreads across Bakugo's face. He strolls leisurely to the center of the circle. Once there, he slowly stretches his arms and shoulders, as if to show everyone how relaxed he is.
“How far did you throw the ball in the last test?” Mr. Aizawa asks, without any interest in his voice.
“About fifty meters,” Bakugo replies curtly.
Then he takes a wide swing. His features contort into a wild, grimace. At the same moment, a deafening explosion rocks the sports field. The ball is catapulted out of his hand with force, accompanied by a loud scream.
“Die!”
Izuku blinks in confusion. Die? Why is he shouting “Die”? he wonders incredulously.
The entire class stares after the ball, which whizzes through the air like a bullet and only hits the ground far away at the edge of the field after a long flight.
Mr. Aizawa glances at the small measuring device in his hand. In the same matter-of-fact voice as before, he says, “Seven hundred and five point three meters.”
He lifts the device slightly so that all the students can clearly see the value.
Immediately, there is a buzz of excitement in the group. Enthusiastic murmurs spread. ”Wow, we get to use our quirks. How cool is that?” Izuku hears someone say. Someone else laughs quietly and says, ”That looks like fun!”
Izuku turns his gaze back to Mr. Aizawa. For a moment, he is confused. His teacher's Wakfu signature flickers briefly, and Izuku feels something he would best describe as intense joy. But in the next moment, the feeling is gone.
Mr. Aizawa turns to face the class. His gaze is blank and tired again, his expression betraying no emotion. Only his deep-set eyes seem a little more attentive for a moment before that too fades away.
“So you think this is all fun and games? That being a hero is fun?” Mr. Aizawa begins. His gaze is stern and expressionless. ”To make you realize the seriousness of the situation, I will immediately expel the person who finishes last in today's test.”
The cheerful mood freezes in a single moment. Uraraka takes a step forward in shock and raises her hand. “That's not fair. Today is our first day! That's way too cruel.”
Some students nod in agreement or whisper words of support.
Mr. Aizawa shows no reaction. “The life of a hero is not fair. The sooner you understand that, the better. And make one thing clear: I will expel anyone I deem unsuitable or who, in my opinion, does not have sufficient potential.”
Without further explanation, he leads the class into the adjacent gym. Several measuring devices are already waiting there, neatly lined up and ready for use.
“We'll start with the first discipline. Grip strength,” says Aizawa dryly.
Izuku picks up one of the devices and examines it briefly, hesitating. On his first attempt, he only presses down with his natural strength. The display shows just under fifty kilograms.
The others are now joining him. Some proceed cautiously, others immediately resort to their quirks.
Nearby, Izuku spots a girl with long green hair. She reminds him of a frog. With impressive precision, she wraps her long tongue around the grip device and achieves an impressive 115 kilograms.
Some students are visibly struggling. Some are refraining from using their quirks, presumably because they don't see any meaningful advantage in doing so. Others simply have no way of using their abilities effectively in this task.
Izuku notices Bakugo out of the corner of his eye, but he can't really see him from a distance. He would actually like to know what score he has achieved. But the memory of their last clash prevents him from approaching him.
A murmur ripples through the hall. Two boys stare at the display of a student over two meters tall. “Five hundred and fifty kilograms,” one whispers in disbelief.
Izuku takes a deep breath. Now it's time to get serious.
He gathers Wakfu in his arms and tries again. The needle shoots up to one hundred and five kilograms. Not bad. But he can do better. He carefully increases the energy supply. The display continues to climb. One hundred and ten. One hundred and eighteen. Finally, it stops at one hundred and thirty-two kilograms.
His hand begins to tremble slightly. He knows he could do more, but this is only the first discipline. It would be unwise to waste too much energy at this stage. He has to conserve his reserves.
After logging his result on the measuring device, Izuku makes his way to Mr. Aizawa to have it recorded. The black-haired girl with the long ponytail is standing in front of him, handing him her own measuring device. Izuku glances curiously at the display and freezes. A large metal vise is clamped around the device, and the number displayed makes him blink. 999 kilograms.
Mr. Aizawa shows no reaction. Without comment, he enters the value in his notes.
The girl turns away from the teacher with a satisfied look on her face. A radiant smile spreads across her face, but when her eyes meet Izuku's, it disappears almost instantly. Her expression becomes neutral, but Izuku doesn't miss the slight blush on her cheeks.
Somewhat embarrassed, she clears her throat and says in a calm, polite voice, “I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself properly earlier. My name is Momo Yaoyorozu.” She bows elegantly, with a naturalness that underscores her refined manner.
Izukus face flushes. Taken aback, he stammers a reply and desperately tries to appear polite himself. “I-I... my name is Izuku Midoriya! Nice to meet you!”
Unfortunately, he hardly manages to exude the same elegance. His nervousness grows with every passing second.
Before Momo can reply, her teacher's annoyed voice rings out. “You've had long enough to get to know each other. Boy, give me your measuring device.”
Izuku flinches. Aizawa looks at him with a sullen, slightly annoyed expression. Momo also reacts immediately, bowing briefly and apologizing politely before retreating to the other girls.
Izuku watches her briefly, but then hastily turns his attention back to Mr. Aizawa so as not to provoke any further displeasure. Mr. Aizawa takes the measuring device from his hand, glances at it quickly, notes the result, and gives him a curt nod to indicate that he can leave.
Izuku quickly steps back, rejoins his classmates, and still feels the heat in his face.
The next exercise is the side jump. Izuku takes a moment to think about how he could use his quirk here. But the longer he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes to him that his portals would be of no advantage in this discipline. Finally, he decides, as before, to simply let Wakfu flow into his muscles.
With the support of his enhanced leg muscles, Izuku jumps significantly faster and more powerfully than he could with physical strength alone. His result is noticeably better than it would have been without his quirk, but compared to some of his classmates, it remains rather unremarkable.
Explosions boom from the other side of the hall. Izuku doesn't even have to look to know that they're coming from Bakugo. But his attention is quickly diverted when he notices that Momo Yaoyorozu is up next, just a few meters away.
Izuku watches in amazement as she seemingly effortlessly pulls two small springboards out of her leg and uses them precisely for the exercise. With these aids, she achieves an exceptionally good result. Mr. Aizawa does not react, so he seems to accept the creative use of her quirk.
Fascinated, Izuku wonders how exactly her ability works. He would love to ask her a dozen questions, but he knows that now is not the right time.
Suddenly, he notices another student who seems to be getting even more out of this exercise. A small boy with striking purple, ball-like hair jumps back and forth between two of his own balls, which he has previously attached to the floor, with surprising speed. Izuku remembers hearing his name somewhere. Mineta.
Even though he makes a strange impression, his quirk is undoubtedly effective. But actually, Izuku finds almost every quirk fascinating.
With a wistful sigh, he wishes he had his notebook with him at that moment. The variety and creativity of his new classmates' quirks have immediately piqued his curiosity. He decides to document them in detail at the next opportunity.
Minetas ability particularly impresses him. Every time he removes one of these balls from his head, a new one immediately grows back. The balls stick firmly to the floor, yet Mineta bounces off them when he lands, giving him an astonishingly high speed. Izuku is amazed. It seems as if this class is full of unexpected talents and surprises.
Izuku also can't find a useful way to use his portals during the sit-ups. He decides once again to enhance his power with Wakfu. The result places him solidly in the upper midfield, as only a few students can really use their quirks effectively in this exercise. The exceptions are those whose abilities are directly related to physical strength, such as the boy who is over two meters tall or the girl with frog-like characteristics.
A little frustrated, Izuku realizes that even without using his explosive quirk, Bakugo can do significantly more sit-ups than he can. Yaoyorozu, on the other hand, is once again the undisputed leader. She has created a mechanical aid, a portable device with two supporting arm struts that assists her movement via a spring-loaded roller system. With each upward movement, the system automatically tightens and gently pulls her into the correct position.
Despite this assistance, it is impossible to overlook how much strength the exercise demands of her. Her forehead is covered in sweat, her breath is shallow and ragged, and her face contorts with effort with every sit-up. Although the device enables her to keep going, Izuku can clearly see that she has long since reached her physical limits. She doesn't give up, forcing herself to continue with a determination that leaves no doubt about how much this test means to her.
The last exercise in the gym is a real challenge for Izuku. He has to sit down and touch his toes with his hands. No matter how hard he tries, he just can't reach them.
Just as he is about to give up, he has an idea. If Yaoyorozu was allowed to use a vice, then he should be allowed to use his quirk here too.
While Mr. Aizawa turns to write down his result, Izuku hastily speaks up. “Please wait. Sensei, I have another idea.”
Mr. Aizawa stops and looks at him without any visible reaction.
Izuku leans back, takes a deep breath, and opens a small portal directly in front of him, just big enough for his hands. The second portal appears right next to his outstretched feet. Carefully, he pushes his hands through and easily touches his toes.
Mr. Aizawa says nothing more, but simply notes: “Full marks.”
Next to Izuku sits the boy with the raven head. He watches curiously as a dark figure detaches itself from his body and stretches forward smoothly until it reaches his feet. He also receives full marks, and for a moment, a barely visible but satisfied smile appears on his otherwise serious face.
After all the students have handed in their scores, the class leaves the gym and returns to the sports field to complete the remaining disciplines.
“Next, you'll do the ball throw,” Mr. Aizawa announces without turning around. Then he adds briefly, ”Bakugo, you can sit this one out. I already have your score.”
The first to be called is the blond student who was the last to come out of the changing room earlier. Izuku now recognizes him; he had already seen him at the entrance exam.
With exaggerated self-confidence, the boy strides to the throwing area. Instead of throwing the ball immediately, he hurls it vertically into the air. Then he leans back, and a glistening beam of light shoots up from his belt. The beam hits the ball and propels it into the distance with considerable force.
“Two hundred and two point seven meters,” Mr. Aizawa says dryly, glancing briefly at his device and then calling out the next name.
“Mina Ashido, it's your turn.”
An energetic girl with pink skin and wild hair runs cheerfully to the throwing area. Without hesitation, she grabs the ball and throws it with gusto. Izuku can't tell if she used her quirk, but the ball only flies about forty-two meters.
With a slight pout and a barely audible sigh, she returns to the other girls. She doesn't seem entirely satisfied with the result.
Then the frog-like girl is called. “Tsuyu Asui,” Mr. Aizawa calls her name.
She grabs the ball, wraps it skillfully with her long tongue, and begins to spin it around her. Izuku watches, fascinated. Her control over the movement is precise and rhythmic, and when she finally lets go of the ball, it flies through the air in a wide, targeted arc.
“One hundred and sixty-seven meters,” announces Mr. Aizawa.
Next, it's Tenya's turn. Instead of throwing, he swings his leg back and hits the ball with a powerful kick. The engines in his calves ignite with a loud roar. The ball flies away in a wide arc, over five hundred meters.
Ochako follows shortly after. She calmly picks up the ball. A soft pink glow begins to shine as she throws it seemingly effortlessly. The class watches spellbound as the ball gets smaller and smaller until it disappears on the horizon.
Aizawa lifts his cell phone and shows the display without comment. The infinity symbol flashes on the screen.
A quiet murmur ripples through the rows. Some murmur in awe, others stare at Uraraka with their mouths open.
Mashirao Ojiro is next. With a powerful swing, he hurls the ball far across the field with the help of his muscular tail. The result is impressive.
Denki Kaminari is less fortunate. His quirk is of little help here. The ball flies just forty meters. Eijiro Kirishima is also unable to really use his ability in this discipline, but at least his ball reaches a significantly better distance than Kaminari's.
Izuku watches every single attempt closely. Every technique, every quirk, every movement captivates him. Inside, he wants his notebook more than ever. He wants to record everything, every detail.
Something unexpected happens with the next participant. Before he even picks up the ball, several birds approach from a distance. His name is Koji Koda. As he bends down toward the ball, he whispers barely audibly in their direction.
In perfect coordination, the birds grab the ball with their claws and fly away with it.
Moments later, they cross the fence of the sports field together. Mr. Aizawa glances at his measuring device. It stops at exactly two thousand meters.
Izuku frowns. Is that the maximum range? But if that's true, how did Uraraka get “infinity”? Maybe Mr. Aizawa added the symbol manually to highlight her quirk.
Then it's Rikido Sato's turn. He tears open a small white packet and pours the contents into his mouth. At first, Izuku can't tell what it is. But shortly afterwards, Sato's muscles begin to visibly pump up, his body mass increases significantly, and his aura suddenly flickers more intensely in the Wakfu vision.
Only now does Izuku's gaze fall again on the crumpled packet in Sato's hand. It looks like one of those little sugar packets you get with tea or coffee. Sugar is probably the source of his quirk's energy.
Sato takes a swing, and the ball whizzes across the field in a wide arc. The result: over four hundred meters.
Next, Mezo Shoji enters the throwing area. The student, who is over two meters tall, merges two of his extra arms into a powerful throwing arm. With brutal force, he hurls the ball into the air. The result: six hundred and twenty meters.
Kyoka Jiro is next. Her stance is determined, but the ball only flies about thirty meters. Izuku notices that she is not satisfied with the result, even though she doesn't let it show.
Her successor has an unusual ability. He can shoot adhesive tape from his elbows. With a serious expression, he wraps the ball and tries to catapult it like a slingshot, similar to what Asui did with her tongue. But the plan fails. The tape sticks too strongly, the ball loses speed and spins uncontrollably to the ground. Not even twenty meters.
Then Fumikage Tokoyami is called up.
Dark Shadow, the dark, shadowy figure that always follows him, springs into action. She takes the ball, moves about ten meters away from Tokoyami, and prepares to throw. Izuku watches in awe at how fluid and powerful the movement looks. He wonders if ten meters is the maximum distance Dark Shadow can move away from its carrier. The ball flies through the air in a high arc. The technique reminds Izuku of a skilled baseball throw, although he feels that Dark Shadow is exaggerating a little.
As Tokoyami leaves his place, he murmurs in a deep voice, “Light dispels darkness,” and calmly returns to his classmates.
Next up is Shoto Todoroki. The surname sounds familiar to Izuku, but he can't quite place it at the moment. With a calm, almost indifferent expression on his face, Todoroki steps up to the throwing area.
He doesn't say a word. Instead, he takes the ball in his hand, lifts it slightly, and lets cold flow through his fingers. A thin layer of ice covers the surface and begins to slowly deform the ball. Within seconds, an aerodynamic ice spike emerges, smooth and pointed, almost like a spear.
Then Todoroki lowers his hand. Directly beneath the ball, a slender column of ice grows out of the ground. It shoots upward with jerky force and hurls the frozen ball into the sky with enormous force.
The ball glides high and far through the air, stabilized by its shape, with almost no resistance.
“Four hundred and eight meters,” says Mr. Aizawa matter-of-factly, without looking up.
The remains of the ice column crack quietly as it slowly begins to melt in the sun. Todoroki turns around without a word and calmly returns to the group. Steam rises, settling briefly around his shoulders before the veil dissolves again.
Then an unusual sight enters the throwing area. A floating, seemingly empty school shirt. It is Toru Hagakure, the invisible girl. Suddenly, her clothes fold neatly and sink to the ground. Izuku flinches in fright and instinctively turns off his Wakfu vision so that he can only perceive the faint signature of her presence.
To everyone else, it looks as if the ball begins to float as if by magic when she picks it up and walks toward the throwing zone.
Izuku is once again surprised that Mr. Aizawa does not object. Apparently, his motto is: What I cannot see, I cannot punish. When Hagakure finally returns, most people don't notice until her clothes fly back up and she puts them on. The scene is so absurdly obvious that Izuku can only suppress his laughter with difficulty.
“Bakugo, you've already made your throw. Midoriya, it's your turn,” Mr. Aizawa says in his usual expressionless tone.
Izuku nods tensely. He has already thought about how he wants to solve this task. With firm steps, he steps into the throwing zone and focuses. Before anyone realizes what he is up to, he calmly raises a hand and opens a portal at the far end of the sports field. It is so far away that probably no one in the class notices it.
At first, the class seems unimpressed. Only when Izuku creates a second portal directly in front of him, now clearly visible in the middle of the throwing zone, does it fall silent. All eyes are on him, and a lump forms in his throat. His nervousness rises, but he breathes out calmly, lifts the ball, takes half a step back, and drops it through the glowing portal without a word.
A few seconds pass, then the familiar whoosh sounds as the portal closes.
“The ball fell over the fence, full points,” Mr. Aizawa announces dryly, without looking up from the measuring device.
A soft murmur ripples through the class. Some students stare at Izuku in surprise, others begin to murmur. As he approaches the others, a few of them come up to him with appreciative looks.
“That was cool!” Ashido shouts, pumping his fist in the air enthusiastically.
“So manly!” adds Kirishima with a broad grin. Izuku has to smile. He's not sure what exactly was manly about it, but the praise feels good. Honest, spontaneous, and above all friendly. For a moment, he's just relieved.
Then his gaze falls on Bakugo and his joy vanishes instantly. Bakugo's eyes sparkle with rage, his face contorted with hatred.
“Deku, you damn failure... what was that?” he growls, his voice getting louder with every word. Then he storms off. Explosions begin to crackle at his hands. ”You made fun of me!”
But before he reaches Izuku, something unexpected happens. Out of nowhere, several strips of fabric shoot through the air and wrap themselves around Bakugo's arms, legs, and torso at lightning speed. He is stopped in mid-sprint, the explosions ceasing instantly.
Izuku flinches. At the same time, a strange feeling runs through him, as if something inside him has been abruptly brought to a halt. His Wakfu is still there, but something is missing. No pain, more like a sudden emptiness. Something inside him that was just moving a moment ago is now completely still. For a fleeting moment, panic rises within him until he realizes where it's coming from.
His gaze wanders to Mr. Aizawa. The glowing red eyes, the tousled hair, the taut bands—there's no doubt about it. It's his quirk that triggered this. Izuku swallows hard. The feeling of being cut off is unsettling. But before it can fully take hold, the tension eases. Aizawa withdraws his power.
“Stop forcing me to use my specialty,” he growls irritably. ”It makes my eyes dry.”
The deactivation of his quirk has surprised Bakugo so much that he doesn't even scream anymore. His anger hasn't dissipated, but the moment has passed. Without another word, Mr. Aizawa releases the bands. They retreat and settle neatly around his neck.
“We're wasting our time here,” he says, returning to his usual tone. ”Get ready for the next tasks.”
Izuku breathes a sigh of relief and takes advantage of Bakugo's confusion to quickly mingle with his classmates again. His gaze keeps wandering back to Bakugo, but he doesn't react. He just stares grimly at the floor.
Unfortunately, Izuku has missed Mineta's throw. Momo is next. Izuku watches intently to see what she will do. He expects a clever solution and is not disappointed.
Calm and focused, she creates a medium-sized drone that picks up the ball with its gripping arms and carries it evenly across the sports field. The drone flies far enough to effortlessly carry the ball over the fence.
“Full marks,” says Mr. Aizawa, without changing his expression.
Izuku is amazed. Her quirk fascinates him every time. She seems incredibly versatile and precise. Once again, he feels the desire to talk to her in detail about her ability someday.
Next on the agenda is the standing long jump. Mr. Aizawa sticks to his list as usual and calls out the names in order. Without any announcement. The class has long since gotten used to their teacher not making a fuss about such things.
Many students use their quirks in amazingly creative ways to score as many points as possible in this discipline. Aoyama, if Izuku remembers correctly, begins. He points his belly button laser downwards, fires, and catapults himself almost completely across the sand pit with a glistening beam of light.
Somehow, it's not really about jumping anymore, Izuku thinks as he watches the spectacle. But Mr. Aizawa doesn't intervene. His expression remains blank as always, at least as far as Izuku can tell. Maybe he's just happy as long as the students use their quirks thoughtfully.
Asui masters the jump with impressive ease. With a powerful leap, she catapults herself effortlessly over the pit. Izuku is sure that she could have jumped even further if necessary. Iida follows shortly after. His calf muscles fire precisely, and he glides effortlessly over the sand bed.
Todoroki creates a narrow ice rink under his feet. He glides elegantly to the other side.
Bakugo, on the other hand, does what he always does. With a series of powerful explosions, he hurls himself across the pit in controlled chaos. While still in the air, he throws Izuku a mocking sideways glance, as if to say, “Try to beat that.”
Izuku doesn't respond. Instead, he calmly steps up to the starting line. For him, this task is almost trivial. He opens a portal directly in front of him, the second on the other side of the pit. One step is enough to get him across.
As he runs back to the group, he sees out of the corner of his eye that it's Mineta's turn. He sticks one of his balls to the ground and jumps on it. It's not quite enough to cover the entire distance, but he manages about three-quarters of it. Amazingly efficient for someone his size.
Momo Yaoyorozu impresses as usual with her creativity. She creates two stable stilts, climbs onto them calmly, and crosses the pit with steady steps. The sight is so absurd that it almost seems comical and has nothing to do with jumping.
Well, I didn't really jump either, thinks Izuku, unable to suppress a quiet chuckle.
The penultimate discipline is the 50-meter dash. The students are to compete in pairs, and Izuku quickly calculates in his head. If Mr. Aizawa continues to strictly adhere to the order of the class list, then... A soft sigh escapes him. ...I'll probably run with Bakugo.
He frowns, slightly annoyed. I just can't get rid of him. Not only are we in the same class, but we're also right next to each other on the list. That's why I'm sitting behind him, and if our teacher continues to organize everything strictly according to plan, we'll always be paired up together.
Izuku takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down. There's nothing I can do about it. And honestly, Bakugo isn't worth ruining my day over.
Before he can lose himself in his thoughts any further, a loud, sharp clap breaks the tense silence on the sports field.
“You creep! How dare you?” An angry voice pierces the silence.
Izuku and many of his classmates turn simultaneously in the direction of the noise. There stands Mineta, his face bright red and a clearly visible handprint on his cheek. In front of him stands Momo Yaoyorozu, arms crossed, her gaze cold, firm, and full of determination.
Mr. Aizawa shuffles closer, his hands in his pockets, visibly annoyed. With a long sigh, he asks, “What happened?”
Before Momo can answer, Mina jumps in. ”It's Mineta's fault, Mr. Aizawa. He made suggestive advances toward Momo. And right in the middle of the sports field.”
“No! No, that's not true!” Mineta immediately cries out in panic. ”I just asked her something. I didn't mean anything...”
Before he can continue to justify himself, Jiro crosses her arms and intervenes. Her voice is calm but sharp. “Don't lie. We all saw your sleazy grin. And I heard your heartbeat. It said more than you would ever admit.”
For a moment, there is silence. All eyes are on Aizawa.
Izuku stands a little apart, watching the scene intently. He feels a mixture of quiet shame at Mineta's behavior and honest admiration for the clarity with which his classmates have responded.
Mineta raises his hands again to defend himself, but Mr. Aizawa immediately interrupts him in a calm but unmistakeable voice: “There are two ways we can resolve this situation.”
The entire class falls silent and listens intently. Even Bakugo casts a curious glance at the group.
“Either both parties file an official complaint.”
“What? Why both? Mineta is to blame!” Mina interjects indignantly.
Aizawa's expression darkens noticeably. “That's correct. But Yaoyorozu hit him afterwards, which means he also has a valid reason to file a complaint.” He pauses briefly and continues in a serious voice: “If you want to be heroes, you have to learn how to deal with uncooperative civilians, with people who provoke you, insult you, or behave disrespectfully. But violence is not the solution in such cases. Hitting is not the right response.”
An awkward silence falls over the group. Many lower their gaze, some look down at the floor, dejected. The message has been received.
“If both of them file a complaint, they will probably be expelled from the school,” Aizawa explains in an unchanging voice.
Momo and Mineta freeze. Both turn visibly pale. Momo unconsciously clenches her hands, while Mineta lowers his head and swallows.
“What's the second option, Mr. Aizawa?“ Tsuyu calmly breaks the silence.
“The two of them let what happened be and learn from it,” is the terse reply.
Mineta is the first to move. “Fine... I can forget it,” he says hastily, looking relieved, almost too eager.
Momo remains silent. Her face clearly shows that she doesn't like either option. She struggles with herself, her gaze hard but also thoughtful. After a long, tense pause, she finally nods briefly. “All right... fine.”
A soft sigh of relief escapes Mineta. Mr. Aizawa is already turning away, but then pauses briefly and looks back over his shoulder.
“There's no reason for you to be relieved, Mineta.”
“If you ever get your hero license, you'll lose it faster than you can blink with actions like that,” Mr. Aizawa says coolly, his voice cutting and clear. ”And if you continue to behave like this in the future, I will expel you. Regardless of how good your performance is. Assuming, of course, that you don't come in last place today.”
Mineta turns white as a sheet. No sound comes out of his mouth. He stands rigidly, as if he has to pull himself together to keep from collapsing.
“We've wasted enough time. Get ready for the next discipline,” Mr. Aizawa continues without raising his voice. ”Aoyama, Ashido. You start.”
Slowly, the group disperses as the first students prepare for the 50-meter dash. The atmosphere remains tense. Izuku understands Aizawa's attitude. Objectively, it makes sense, but he still has a queasy feeling in his stomach. It bothers him how quickly Mineta got away with it. But he consoles himself with the thought that Yaoyorozu is letting it go, albeit reluctantly.
The race proceeds quickly. One after another, the students sprint off or use their quirks as best they can. Then it gets serious. It's Izuku's turn, together with Bakugo, just as he had suspected.
Just as the two are about to head for the track, Mr. Aizawa's voice rings out again.
“Wait a moment. Bakugo, you swap with Mineta.”
“What? Why should I?” Katsuki growls, his gaze meeting Aizawa's with open hostility.
The teacher stands still. His eyes begin to glow red, his hair lifts slightly. A silent but unmistakeable sign that his patience is at an end.
“Because I order you to.”
Bakugo hisses softly, tensing his shoulders. Then he turns to Izuku and fixes him with a cold stare. “This isn't over, DEKU,” he mutters so quietly that only Izuku can hear him. Then he spins on his heel and marches away with quick, angry steps.
Izuku is surprised at first when Mr. Aizawa doesn't pair him with Bakugo as expected. But the more he thinks about it, the more sense it makes. Their teacher probably just wants to prevent them from going at each other's throats again. Separating two groups with tension between them is probably smarter than letting them start side by side.
When the small timing robot sounds the starting signal, Izuku reacts immediately. In one fluid motion, he creates two portals. One directly in front of him, the other exactly at the finish line of the 50-meter course. He steps through and finds himself on the other side in the next moment.
“1.57 seconds,” announces the robot in a tinny voice.
Izuku is about to rejoice at his result when the voice sounds again.
“2.48 seconds.”
Confused, he turns around. Mineta is kneeling on the ground a few meters away, pale and visibly shaken. In front of him, a sticky trail stretches across the lawn, which is best not looked at too closely. His gaze is glassy, caught somewhere between nausea and exhaustion.
The portals close behind Izuku, and suddenly he realizes what must have happened. Mineta must have jumped through the portal right behind him.
Mr. Aizawa approaches with his usual calm gait. When he sees the scene in front of him, he stops, looks at both of them and sighs audibly.
His gaze goes to Izuku. “What happened here?”
Since Mineta is preoccupied with himself, the question is clearly directed at him. Izuku scratches the back of his head uncertainly. “I'm not entirely sure, sir... I think Mineta went through my portal.”
Aizawa raises an eyebrow. ”Isn't that a normal side effect?”
Izuku's thoughts race wildly. He had never experienced any discomfort after jumping through a portal himself. For him, it had always been an almost seamless process. No dizziness, no nausea, not even a queasy feeling.
Before he can answer, Uraraka speaks up quietly but firmly. “I also went through one of Izuku's portals during the entrance exam. I felt pretty sick afterwards. I thought it was because of my quirk... but maybe it was the portal after all.”
Izuku turns pale. He was completely unaware of this side effect of his quirk.
“I've never felt sick after using one of my portals,” he says quietly, lowering his gaze. Almost whispering, he adds, ‘I'm sorry...”
“You don't have to apologize, boy,’ Mr. Aizawa replies calmly. “That was Mineta's own risk. And at least he got a good score. I should take him to the infirmary.”
“No, sir! I'm feeling much better!” Mineta blurts out and staggers to his feet. With trembling hands, he wipes the spit from his mouth and tries to put on a halfway credible smile.
“I only felt sick for a moment,” says Uraraka quietly, stepping forward to relieve Izuku. ”After a few minutes, everything was fine again.”
Mr. Aizawa looks at Mineta appraisingly for a moment, then nods almost imperceptibly.
“All right. Back to the others.”
With a curt wave of his hand, he points to the track. “Bakugo. Yaoyorozu. You're next.”
Bakugo marches to the starting line without a word. When the signal sounds, he immediately ignites his explosions. He hurtles across the track at breakneck speed. It looks more like flying than running.
“4.13 seconds,” announces the robot.
Yaoyorozu is apparently deliberately refraining from using her quirk. Izuku suspects that it would have taken longer to create something than to simply run. Nevertheless, she does remarkably well.
“5.94 seconds.”
The last discipline is the long-distance run. This time, the entire class starts at the same time. The number of laps run within a maximum of 30 minutes determines the result.
Izuku thinks about how best to use his portals. It probably wouldn't count if he placed both the entrance and exit portals directly at the starting line. Simply skipping the course would be too obvious. After a moment's thought, he decides to place a portal at each quarter of the lap so that he still “runs” the entire course, albeit in his own way.
As always, Mr. Aizawa's starting signal is barely audible. Monotonous and casual. Half the class looks around in confusion, unsure whether they are allowed to start running yet. But the rest simply start moving and pull the undecided ones along with them.
Izuku immediately opens his first portal and gains an early lead. But instead of picking up speed, he deliberately holds back. In this discipline, endurance counts more than speed. His goal is to stay just ahead of the runner-up in order to expend as little energy as possible while still maintaining the lead.
Some students quickly catch up, led by Iida. His calf muscles are working at full capacity, and with every step he gets faster. Close behind him is Bakugo, who catapults himself forward with short, powerful bursts. Izuku wonders how long he can keep up this pace without overexerting himself.
Almost neck and neck is Todoroki, gliding across the ground on a narrow ice rink. Fast, efficient, but certainly also power-intensive. Behind him, Izuku spots Yaoyorozu. He has to look twice to understand what he's seeing. She has actually created a small scooter that she is comfortably riding along the track. The sight is as absurd as it is ingenious, and elicits a quiet grin from Izuku.
Before Iida catches up with him, Izuku jumps through the next portal.
Little happens in the next twenty minutes. Some participants are already giving up. Mr. Aizawa waves them out of the race without a word as soon as he realizes they can no longer keep up. Many have exhausted their powers too early.
Bakugo is the first of the fast runners to be taken out. After his explosions run out, he continues running normally for a few laps, but the exhaustion from the explosions finally catches up with him. Todoroki follows shortly after. His body is shaking violently, probably a side effect of his ice powers.
In the end, only three remain: Izuku, Iida, and Yaoyorozu, who rolls tirelessly along the track.
Izuku is now clearly feeling the exhaustion. Constantly opening the portals is draining his strength and concentration. Iida is also at his limit. He is breathing heavily, his steps no longer as explosive as they were at the beginning.
Yaoyorozu, on the other hand, looks as if she has just started. No sweat, no panting, just steady rolling. Then the 30 minutes are up, and Mr. Aizawa waves them out of the race with a casual hand movement.
“How much longer can you go?“ he asks tersely.
“Not much longer,” Izuku admits honestly. His voice is hoarse from breathing.
“I'm afraid I have to say I'm reaching my limit too,” adds Iida, visibly trying not to show his exhaustion.
Mr. Aizawa nods and turns to Yaoyorozu. ”And you?”
She looks briefly embarrassed and tries to evade the question. But Aizawa interrupts her without hesitation: “You don't look like you're about to keel over. Time's up anyway, I'm ending this.”
He pulls out his notepad, types something, and says, ”We're done here.”
Shortly after, he adds his final sentence, as matter-of-factly as everything else that day: “I'll announce the results right now.”
“The scores are simply calculated from the results of the individual disciplines. Explaining them all in detail would be a waste of time. So I'll just summarize the results,” Mr. Aizawa announces dryly.
Izuku is pretty sure he did well. Still, he doesn't like the idea that someone from his class might have to leave school on the first day. His stomach tightens involuntarily.
Aizawa taps his phone, and a holographic display appears in front of the class. Bright names and numbers flicker and immediately attract everyone's attention. Izuku doesn't have to look far. He spots his name almost immediately: second place. A moment of relief washes over him.
Only Yaoyorozu is ahead of him. No wonder, she had scored full marks in almost every discipline, with a seemingly effortless combination of creativity and precision.
What surprises him, however, is that Bakugo is not in third place, but Todoroki. The quiet boy with the ice powers. Bakugo only came fourth.
Izuku suddenly feels a piercing gaze. The anger in it is almost palpable. But when he turns around, Bakugo has already looked away. Nevertheless, an uneasy feeling remains.
His gaze wanders back to the board, this time all the way to the bottom. Last place: Toru Hagakure. If he remembers correctly, she is the invisible girl. He can already hear quiet sobbing. The other girls have gathered around her and are trying to comfort her.
Then Mr. Aizawa speaks again, this time louder: “The expulsion was a lie.”
Silence spreads. The class stares at their teacher in disbelief.
“A rational untruth,” he continues calmly. ”I wanted to bring out the best in your quirks.”
Some students still seem frozen, while others are only now beginning to understand what this means. Aizawa flashes a crooked smile. It doesn't necessarily look trustworthy, more like slightly crazy.
“WHAT?!“ several voices burst out at once. Horror and relief mix together.
“It was obvious,” says Yaoyorozu calmly, as if she never seriously believed it.
Izuku, on the other hand, isn't so sure. For him, it was anything but obvious. Aizawa hadn't given the impression that he was bluffing. A glance at the faces of his classmates shows him that many have been thinking the same thing.
“You'll find the curriculum in the classroom,” Mr. Aizawa says finally. ”Go through it.” Without another word, he turns around and shuffles away toward the main building in his typical gait.
The class remains behind, stunned, exhausted, but also a little relieved.
The rest of the day passes relatively quietly. The other teachers, although all professional heroes, behave like normal educators. The lessons are structured, clear, and without further surprises.
When Izuku heads home at the end of the day, he is tired but satisfied. It was exhausting, challenging, and at times even overwhelming. But he made it through. And that feels good.
Notes:
Not much new happened in this chapter and it may be a bit long in places, but I don't like to rush through stories. I also considered whether I should kick Mineta out, but decided against it, as there have to be characters who can develop (or not). A comment from the last chapter gave me an idea for Bakugo. Things are going to get worse with him, but you know what's coming next.
Feel free to share your thoughts and ideas with me. I read all your comments, even if I don't always reply.
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