Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A Single Star Behind Me

Prologue: A Red Sky Burns Ahead

———————————————

“This is the story of how I became the greatest a hero.”

———————————————

The memory at the stream burned brightest.

Most of the first memories were fuzzy. When he’d first realized his quirk, or when he showed it to his mother and they discovered he could also draw the flame of a candle towards himself. He could remember amazement, relief, warmth. Mostly relief. Not really specifics.

Others he could remember in more detail. Being at the doctor’s office a week or so before the stream. His mom, looking tense. Getting X-rays, which was fun, drinking something that tasted really terrible, a bunch of pokes and prods. Finally the doctor, pleasant, neutral. Izuku holding his All Might figure, scratching nervously at it.

“Izuku’s almost five. That’s outside the curve a bit, but it’s still normal. Some kids are just late bloomers. And some quirks, like mental ones for example, do tend to develop a bit later. I wouldn’t worry. Just be patient; everything points to him having a quirk.”

Or something like that. Plus a bunch of other medical talk that went way over his head. He hadn’t been very happy; he knew that. ‘Patience’ wasn’t really in a four-year-old’s vocabulary.

The stream though, that he remembered perfectly. At least he thought so. Memory was a tricky thing.

The stream was just behind the pre-school, and after it let out and the kids had time to kill before their various parents arrived from home or work to pick them up, and since it was a nice day, a half-dozen of them were huddled around him as he focused intently on a handful of stones by the bank.

“Alright Izuku, show us!”

“C’mon, c’mon I wanna see!”

“Shh, he’s concentrating.”

“Yeah, he’s concentrating.”

“Stop copying me, Tomo! Stupid!”

Tomoaki, who could mimic other kids’ voices, giggled and stuck his tongue out at Nao. Nao pouted as her skin turned a subtle shade of red - maybe frustration or embarrassment.

And Izuku Midoriya did concentrate, looking for all the world like a four-year-old mentalist putting on a show as one of the stones skittered briefly, then drew towards him, clattering along the ground. He selected another one, and picked it up, this time letting it float more slowly towards him.

“Hehehe, neat.”

“Can you make them go fast?”

“Yeah, I can,” he said. “Watch!”

The third stone shot towards Izuku in a straight line, landing in his hand.

“You’re like a magnet or something,” Himari Sumaya said with a chuckle, playing with her long hair. She’d been watching quietly up till then, a couple feet away from the others.

“How much can you do?” Keita asked. “Can you do a bunch at once?”

Izuku scratched his neck. “I dunno. I just got it last night. But I can actually pull more than just stuff, I can—“

“LAME.”

Kacchan.

He stood a bit further from the huddled kids. He’d been watching them intently, eyes narrowed, a king who’d just turned five surveying his subjects with contempt. Now he passed his judgment.

“You waited an extra year for your quirk just so you could move a bunch of pebbles? There’s like a million people who have dumb little quirks like that. Isn't it like just your mom’s quirk?”

Izuku shook his head. “I can move more than stones, Kacchan, I could do it with pencils, or toys—“

“It’s still lame!”

“It’s not lame Kacchan, plus when I’m bigger I’ll move heavier stuff!”

“You wanna see a real quirk, Izuku—”

“Plus it’s not exactly like my mom’s cause I can—“

But Bakugo was unsurprisingly not listening. Bakugo never really did. He was too busy showing off now like always. There was a popping sound as his palms began to spark and smoke. The quirk that had blown (no pun intended) everyone’s minds since he’d developed it at three-and-a-half. And he’d become so bossy. It made Izuku mad. Why couldn’t Bakugo just let him have this one moment? 

Izuku’s fingers felt tingly.

On Bakugo’s palms, the flames danced, ready for the miniature explosion… and sputtered.

Izuku had pulled the fire and heat away from Katsuki’s palms just like the earlier pebbles, leaving them to dissipate in the breeze.

“—Do fire,” Izuku said.

The preschool audience stared. Emi giggled. Renji’s “Wow, that was—-“ was cut straight off by Bakugo. His face tensed. Izuku didn’t know if Kacchan was going to bawl or yell.

It was the latter.

“What did you do to my quirk?”

Bakugo clenched his fists. He took two quick steps straight at Izuku.

“I was just saying, I can pull fire—“

Bakugo shot out his arms, hard, into Izuku’s chest. He was down before he even knew it, landing elbows-first on the grass and dirt. A couple kids gasped. A couple others called out frantically to the teacher. Bakugo meanwhile stood overtop of him. “What the heck did you do to my quirk, Deku?! Don’t you ever mess with my quirk again, you got it! Especially with your dumb quirk! Stupid Deku!”

He continued like that as the teacher yanked him away and back towards the building. “I’ll be back,” she said over her shoulder as Izuku bit his lip and got back to his knees.

“Stupid Deku with your stupid useless little quirk!”

The tantrum faded into the background. The other kids were mostly not looking. 

“Um… you okay Izuku?” Keita finally asked.

“Yeah.”

“Katsuki’s so strong and mad,” Nao muttered. She took on a bluish tint. “Um, my mom’s gonna be here soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” Izuku said. He didn’t really look up.

Stupid useless little quirk.

“Hey.”

Izuku looked up this time. Himari, with a wry little smirk on her face. Izuku remembered her. She’d go on to another primary and middle school and they wouldn’t see each other again, but he’d remember that one moment from her.

“I think your quirk is really cool. Like if a house was on fire, you could pull all the fire out.”

“Th—thanks, Himari.”

“See ya,” she said. “My dad’s here.”

Four wheels popped out in a line from the bottom of her feet and she skated on them, a bit shakily, through the parking lot to a car. Himari always wore custom-made shoes so she could pop out her wheels when she wanted. Izuku watched her go.

A girl talked to him and said she was cool.

He almost burst into tears.

———————————————

When they got home Inko Midoriya made him a snack and asked him how the big day was, and he talked about it without going into too much detail about Kacchan. Inko wasn’t stupid. She saw the dirt on his arms and wormed the story out of him. After, Izuku scampered to the tablet, bringing it back to the table and switching it on, then picking a video.

“I AM HERE!”

All Might. Jumping, flying, punching, throwing. So much stuff.

Meanwhile he could, what? Pull little things?

“Mom?”

“What, Izuku?”

Izuku watched All Might for another few seconds. He wanted to ask her. But what if she said no, like Kacchan?

“Can I— Can I still be a hero? Even with my quirk? Kacchan, he said it was stupid and useless and I know it’s not useless but it’s still, like…” he didn’t know how to finish.

It was just little.

Inko took a moment, then put her hands on Izuku’s shoulders. They felt warm.

“Kacchan doesn’t know what you or your quirk can do, Izuku. No one does exactly. Look, you’ve watched All Might a hundred times, figuring out his moves. But you’re… you. You’re smart, and you have a big heart. You can be a hero, or you can be a lot of other things, but I know you’ll be great.”

Of course, being four years old, Izuku had really wanted to hear his mom tell him he could be more powerful than All Might. But what she’d said was close enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Resonate Inside This Temple

Ten years later. Give or take.

Izuku sat on the steps outside Aldera Junior High. Classes were long over. Clubs were finishing up. His backpack, as usual, bulged with books, papers, headphones, random detritus. He was looking for the notebook. 

Hero Analysis for the Future, Vol. 14 

There. Next to the book he was studying on his own — Rescue Operations and Training Vol. 3 - Mountainous Terrain. He flipped through the pages absentmindedly. They were crammed with his excited scrawl: pointers, drawings, diagrams, charts, and some vague notes he didn’t even remember what they were supposed to be. He’d been making these notebooks for years. They were indecipherable to anyone but himself. He guessed that matched his character. 

“If you look at the correlations between top heroes and their schools, it’s clear that UA and Shiketsu are far above the rest but obviously going to one is no guarantee of success; meanwhile if you’re looking at heroes in the top five hundred…”

So did the muttering. Izuku supposed it was his way of keeping all the observations and questions in his brain in some form of organization — or organized chaos, at least. It had always been noisy up in his head, but he was used to it by now.

Still, that noise was loudest when big moments and decisions came up, and man, this year was the biggest.

He flipped to the front. Like all his notebooks, page one was dedicated to Pullforce. Current notes, limits, and space to log anything noteworthy.

The second page was a new one.

HIGH SCHOOL APPLICATIONS

Below that, he had two written down — in marker, so they couldn’t be erased in a moment of doubt or, less likely, confidence.

1 - Sendai First Hero College (Fukushima)

2 - Takasago Academy (Kobe)

3 - _________________________

He’d researched intensely already. Both schools were well-regarded. They had an established emphasis on rescue heroics. They were also private, like most hero-focused schools, and thus expensive and would also require him to move to another prefecture for the school year, an idea his mother wasn’t particularly fond of.

But more importantly, he was a lot more hopeful he could get into them.

That was why he was too afraid to write anything in the #3 slot for now. Sure, there were the lower-tier ones with big promises and high dropout rates. There was the possibility of the public exam landing him in a top school. And there were some of the broad-based hero schools that were also well-regarded — he’d considered Ketsubutsu, in Nagano near the mountains — and then of course there was the one just 25 minutes away. 

The national school. U.A. And he hadn’t been able to bring himself to write it down even in pencil yet.

He tossed a pen idly in the air a couple times and it zipped back into his hand. He was muttering again.

“Okay, Sendai is older and larger, likely considered more prestigious; but Takasago is smaller, lower student-to-hero ratio, supposedly really state-of-the-art and very well-funded thanks to some of its alumni—“

“Hey!” 

A hand clapped down on his shoulder and he screamed.

Oh god… villain? Worse?

“Midoriya, I am telling you right now, if you keep acting like this for the next nine months, I will personally have to kick the hero nerd out of you,” Sota Maruyama said as Izuku briefly cowered. “And I begrudgingly consider myself your friend, so I would rather not do that.”

Izuku took a breath, recovered himself.

“S-Sorry Sota, I was just—” 

“Going over your hero notebook and freaking out, yes,” Sota continued, casually sarcastic as usual. He sat down. “Exam season doesn’t start until January. Bakugo got you riled up today, I know. But remember dude, Bakugo’s an idiot.”

Izuku snorted. “No, he’s uh, he’s really not.”

“OK, I meant in like the relative sense. The trying-to-cheer-you-up sense? Good enough?”

Izuku thought for a second. “Okay, good enough.”

He didn’t exactly have a ton of close friends; he never had. Maybe just a byproduct of all that noise. But there were a couple he could at least call decent enough. People to chat with at school. Ruika, whose “Levitation” quirk was so similar to Pullforce and who also counted herself an unabashed studious loner. Daiten, who could transform himself into an Adonis with “Absolute Chad” but still managed to stay friendly with pretty much everyone in class. And Sota, whose dry and sarcastic nature somehow merged pretty well with Izuku’s earnestness, and who could deal with Izuku’s hero-obsession despite (or maybe because of) having no real ambition to become a hero himself. Sure, he played along with the class a bit when everyone got excited about their future. And his “Pufferfish” quirk was fun at a party. Just not so much for heroism, and he’d already set his sights on medical school.

“It’s just that Kacchan was…”

“In particularly good form today?” Sota finished.

Yeah. And it was just a little comment from Izuku that set him off. 

——————

Izuku mostly tried to avoid Bakugo, and was mostly successful these days. He’d learned to stop biting his lip at every bit of praise Bakugo got for his “drive” or “ambition”. Avoid Bakugo and his lackeys in the hall. Not that Kacchan usually paid him much attention either. Maybe it was the quirk. Maybe he just usually dismissed Izuku as too weak to be competition, but not quite weak enough to actively prey on. But of course, today Izuku just had to open his mouth. 

Bakugo had gone on his rant while the class was discussing career aspirations and hero courses. Or, more accurately, everyone was overexcited about the fantasy of getting into a hero school and Watanabe had mentioned U.A. and then Kacchan apparently had heard enough.

“Seriously Watanabe-sensei, stop even mentioning me next to these idiots,” he’d said, and of course Watanabe had chuckled like it was just a joke. “Especially for U.A. You extras just stay in your damn place and don’t waste time.”

“Ah, Bakugo, intense as always,” Watanabe said, no doubt dreaming of telling future classes how he’d taught a top hero. Maybe being interviewed in a future documentary. Izuku guessed the entire school already had a display case ready to show off their prize alumni. “But he’s not wrong that everyone should consider their limitations. Now, while you all have impressive quirks—“

“They have trash quirks!”

And Izuku finally just made one comment. “Look Bakugo. There’s a lot of roads to being a hero, OK? Just because not everyone has your power doesn’t mean—“

“Piss off, Deku!”

Bakugo’s fury could switch on in an instant. And he’d gone all the way back to that nickname he’d come up with years ago.

“The hell are you gonna do? Smack yourself in the face with some flaming garbage? Now shut the hell up!”

The class laughed. And Izuku’s stomach churned as he chuckled weakly and did shut the hell up.

————————

“Well, one more year and you’ll never have to deal with him again,” Sota said. “Really, you’re only pissing him off these days since you were dumb enough to tell Watanabe-sensei you were ‘considering’ U.A.”

He paused a moment.

“So like uh, ARE you still considering U.A., Midoriya?”

Izuku died inside a little bit. He’d hated that question enough when his mom tentatively asked it.

“Well, s-sometimes it’s like nothing ventured nothing gained, right?” He said weakly. “I mean, yeah it’s U.A., but you can always try. Like, I have to have some chance, right?”

Sota sighed. “Midoriya, buddy. Izuku. You can always count on me to be blunt and straight-up even if I get smacked for it, right?”

“Uh, sure.”

“So OK. Don’t smack me,” Sota said, then paused a moment.

“No man, just no. It’s like you said. It’s U.A. They take what, the top 1%? Does anyone in our class except Bakugo have a chance? C’mon.”

He shrugged. Izuku stared at him, and forced a smile.

“I do feel like smacking you,” he said.

—————————

After Sota left, Izuku needed to sit a bit more. He still had his notebook. 

HIGH SCHOOL APPLICATIONS  

The words stared back at him for a while.

The second Bakugo encounter at the end of the day hadn’t helped either. The one Sota hadn’t known about. It was nothing big. Just your ordinary ‘meeting’ with Bakugo and his lackeys outside the doors. A couple shoves, no punches, some sparks on his palms just to remind Izuku who was in charge at Aldera.

“Look, Bakugo, I’m not trying to compete with you OK—”

“Oh, thanks for making that clear, nerd. Cause that's it, I'm so scared of competing against you! I'm really fucking concerned!”

Bakugo leaned in close.

“I’m the only one from this crappy school who’s going anywhere near U.A. And I don’t need extras like you trying to follow in my footsteps. 'Ooooh, I’m not trying to compete.’ Then you’re not goddamn U.A.! U.A. is for winners. Not for assholes who can fuck up a real hero’s quirk!”

He stopped, breathing heavily. Izuku kept his head down. All those years after the stream it was the one thing that Bakugo had never let him forget.

“You can help pick up junk after a parade or something,” Bakugo said, turning. “Stick to that. Deku.”

And the stream — Deku — was one thing Izuku couldn’t get out of his head. Maybe it was because Bakugo only ever seemed to bring that name out just after Izuku had thought he’d finally retired it.

Izuku started home a bit later. The sun cast its evening shadows as he walked, mostly in thought. The orange glow on the streets would be turning purple soon enough. The walk home after everyone else, the loneliness of the scenic route; he liked that. Gave him time to breathe. And think.

Yeah. He couldn’t deny what Sota said. And everyone else. Did anyone really have a chance? Did anyone look at Pullforce and see “Ah, there’s UA material!”

Let’s be honest — they saw “Hey man, your quirk would be pretty good for helping in rescues! You’d make a great sidekick!”

Maybe if he hadn’t been born in the shadow of U.A. it wouldn’t have mattered. There was nothing inherently wrong with other strong schools. But U.A. was THERE, like an overhanging shadow, all his life. All Might’s alma matter; the national school. The place that real heroes were made. The only school he’d really dreamed about since he was three.

And he couldn’t write the words down on the page. Because if he did actually try the entrance exam and inevitably fail… that would just confirm every negative thing he’d been told. Everything he’d ever felt about himself. Himself and Pullforce.

Funny how you and your quirk became intertwined like that. 

He turned back to the first page.

Pullforce

Current Limit:

Approx. 25 kg, depending on distance for objects

Flames on a line approx. diameter of a regulation baseball

Crammed full with other notes, exercises, ideas.

When he’d first gotten it all those years ago, he’d spent so much time dreaming about being able to fling villains to and fro with ease, or summoning giant boulders to smash a hideout to bits. But Pullforce would always be attraction only, no pushing, repelling, no throwing things around — and no living things. No people, no plants, no pulling someone’s eyeballs out of their sockets like one idiot in class bugged him about maybe being able to do last year. And OK sure, every quirk had limits and shortcomings. He accepted that.

He thought about Bakugo again. Well, almost every quirk.

Izuku started underneath the bridge, the air as always a bit denser, heavier down there by the storm drain. It was gurgling a bit louder than usual. Maybe a burst sewer line somewhere. The shadows were darker and he tucked the notebook under his arm and began muttering.

“If you remember the list of top heroes that didn’t go to U.A. or Shiketsu, you’ve still got a large proportion, in the top ten alone Hawks of course was privately trained, and Crust went to…”

He stopped. 

Something was wrong. It just felt… off, somehow. The gurgling sound seemed louder.

The air shouldn’t be this thick.

A half second later a cold weight slammed into his back before he could turn around, It knocked the wind out of him, and he dropped the notebook.

“Wha—“

His hands flew up instinctively, trying to grab whatever it was, but they plunged into something neither liquid nor solid, something moving on top of him, over him. Enveloping him.

It was touching his neck and face. It was getting in his mouth, and he tried to shut it, eyes rolling wildly to see what this thing was, stumbling forward; then there was a guttural voice. Hot, rancid breath blew against him.

“Yeaaaah, kid with a quirk. Perfect. Stop squirming. You’re just a meat suit now.”

Oh God… villain. Real Villain!

The gunk — the sludge, whatever it was — wrapped around his shoulders and chest and Izuku frantically smacked at it, trying to break free. All that accomplished was more chuckling next to his ear. He tried to keep his mouth shut but it was pressing against his lips, prying them open, and entering his nose. It was starting to come down over his eyes, turning the world a translucent shade of olive green. 

His quirk. He had to use something. Pull something. No fire anywhere. He couldn’t pull the sludge itself. He had to move.

Izuku stumbled out of the tunnel, the villain clinging to him. Nobody around. No help coming. He was panicking, not thinking. He started waving his hands, trying to grab with his quirk. Leaves. No good. A lamppost — way above 25kg. He had to hit it with something. Anything.

His Pullforce latched onto the closest thing, an empty soda bottle nearby. It flew towards him — and smacked the sludge uselessly.

“What was that, kid? Just another few seconds and it’s over.”

The sludge was filling his mouth now and he couldn’t help but think of Bakugo’s line. 

‘The hell are you gonna do? Smack yourself in the face with flaming garbage?’

Damnit he didn’t want to be his last thought.

“I AM HERE!”

The voice boomed — almost literally boomed — through the tunnel, blasting Izuku and the villain with a gust of wind, and the sludge was ripped off him, spraying outward and decorating the trail outside the tunnel.

Izuku dropped to his knees, coughing madly, sputtering, spitting. He tried to suck in air and figure out what was happening. The muck in front of him was coalescing, coming back into a humanoid shape. Its eyes glared, but not at Izuku. They were looking at—

All Might.

Same grin. Same unmistakable hair. Same outfit. 

He was even bigger in person.

“Texas… SMASH!”

The Sludge Villain had barely gotten its body back together before it was blasted apart again.

Izuku was still trying to breathe. Was he going to faint?

The world faded in and out a few times, then, his breathing steadied. When he looked back up, All Might was standing there, right in front of him. Smiling at him.

“You okay, kid?”

So of course Izuku freaked out again.

“All— All Might, I, oh my God, wow, thank you, I’m okay, can I, uh, uh, uhhhhhuhuh—”

All Might just laughed. “Glad to hear, young citizen! I’m sorry you had to get involved in my capture!”

Izuku had stopped babbling nonsense but could only stare now as All Might showed off two empty soda bottles, now filled with green sludge, an eye staring angrily out of each one.

“And thank you for the second bottle! Only had one with me. Was that your quirk?”

“Uhuhuhhh—”

“Telekinetic quirks like that can be great for rescue! And oh, I signed your notebook. Thanks again, citizen!”

Great for rescue. 

Not good enough for U.A.

Not good enough to stop a villain.

Did even All Might think that?

“Wait, All Might, can I just ask one—”

“Farewell!”

All Might had already stuck the bottles into his side pockets and was ready to leap, and Izuku moved without thinking. He jumped and grabbed onto All Might’s leg just as the hero launched with a massive crack of wind.

“Hey — Hey kid? WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

“I’m sorry!” Izuku yelled.

He was sorry for sure. The world was whipping by, the city below them. Streets and trees and buildings all blurred together. If he hadn’t been sure he was going to lose his grip and fall, he would have been spellbound by it.

All Might coughed and Izuku felt their direction change. They were heading towards a building. 

“I’m sorry!” he repeated. “I just…”

He saw the bottles of sludge. 

They were slipping from All Might’s pockets, tumbling down to the ground — and the hero didn’t even notice.

A few seconds later All Might half-landed, half-crashed on the building’s rooftop. Izuku rolled a couple times, grimacing, and immediately got up. He had to bow. He had to bow SO MUCH right now.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry All Might, I’m sorry!” It was his entire vocabulary at the moment.

On the other side of the building, All Might smiled, but it was pinched. Not his happy smile.

“YOUNG MAN! That was very reckless!”

“I know!” Izuku said, still bowing. “I’m sorry!”

“You could have been dangerously hurt!”

“Yes, yes it was so stupid! I felt I needed to ask you something, and then I grabbed you, and I was flying and saw the bottles falling out and—“

All Might’s eyes narrowed. Then, alarmed, he began patting his pockets.

“The bottles?” He began, and — there was a burst of smoke from nowhere.

Izuku coughed as his vision clouded. What the heck? That wasn’t one of All Might’s powers. He waved the smoke away, dreading another villain, trying to see again.

All Might was gone.

Instead a gaunt figure stood there, a scarecrow, all bony arms and legs sharp enough to cut someone. A mane of blonde hair framed his face like a mangy, starved lion. He opened his mouth, only to cough out a stream of blood.

“Where are the bottles?” he asked.

“Aahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“It’s ok, kid—“

“Ahhh! Ah! Who— who are you?”

The figure looked almost saddened. “I’m still All Might.” His voice was strained, but firm.

“You’re who?” Izuku said. “You’re not All Mi…, did I do something, what are—?”

“I’ll tell you later.” The voice wasn’t harsh, per se. But it was urgent enough to shut Izuku up. “Did the bottles fall out? Did you see them?”

“I— I—“

The figure’s black eyes stared back at him — black, but not soulless.

They did look like All Might’s eyes.

“Did you see them!” he repeated.

And Izuku shakily pointed to the corner of the roof. The two bottles containing the sludge villain lay there.

“I… I pulled them back up. With my quirk.”

All Might’s eyes softened. Just a bit.

“What’s your name, young man?” he asked.

“Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku.”

————————

A few minutes later, Izuku was still trying to comprehend it. The real All Might. Or maybe just… the other All Might. The scar, the limit of three hours in hero form a day. After fourteen years of idolizing only half the man, it was a lot to take in. There were a million different questions that he knew All Might didn’t want him to ask, but it seemed like he couldn’t help it.

“So, if it was five years ago was it your battle with Toxic Chainsaw?” he stammered. 

“You know your subject,” All Might chuckled, gently breaking in. “But look, Midoriya. I’m sure you’re smart enough to grasp that this is a secret from the world, and there’s good reason I can’t say anything more. You’re in an exclusive club here now, and I need you to keep it. And try not to speculate further.”

Izuku paused for less than half a second. All Might was trusting him. That was enough. Then he nodded furiously. “Yes, yes of course sir! I promise! I’ll never tell anyone! Thank you!” His voice cracked with sincerity, and All Might smiled. Nodded back.

“Thank you, son. Well, duty calls.”

He turned to go, bottles securely in hand this time, then turned back.

“You’d mentioned you’d wanted to ask me something.”

“Oh no I didn’t, well I did but it was a stupid question anyway but I couldn’t help it and after everything that happened it’s OK All Might sir—“

“You can ask it,” All Might cut in.

How did he even say it? Was he just wasting All Might’s time.

“Well… you, um, you saw my Quirk. It’s called Pullforce. I can attract things, but only towards myself, so it’s not that powerful and I’m not that strong. I want to be a hero more than anything. And I just… people like to say that I can be a good sidekick, or part of a rescue team. But it was always my dream to go to U.A., like you. And be a top hero. And... I guess I just needed to know if you thought I could.” 

All Might looked at Izuku a moment — then he laughed.

“Young Midoriya!” All Might said. “I think you already know the answer to that one. Because of these.”

He pointed to the soda bottles.

“What you did when you grabbed on to me was very foolish and dangerous. But I’m guessing that you did it without thinking, right?”

Izuku nodded, cheeks red.

“But then, you saw something. A mistake. A potential disaster. And you used your quirk to prevent that. Again, did you think before you acted?”

“Um… no sir. No. I just… I just did it.”

“Exactly,” All Might said. “Son, one thing I remember so many heroes saying when they did something great. They said ‘It’s like my body moved by itself.’”

Izuku felt his heart fluttering.

“If you know all my battles, then you know as well as anyone that many heroes have less flashy quirks than me and make it work. So what are you really doubting?”

He pointed a finger at Izuku.

“It’s not the quirk you’re really worried about, it’s you! You’re wondering if YOU have what it takes to be a top hero. But even I doubted myself, and had people tell me I couldn’t be a hero. I will say that whether you make it into U.A. or not, you can be a top hero. You have the heart of one!”

He can. He can.

“I can,” Izuku finally said.

All Might straightened up. There was a puff of steam and he was in full Hero form again.

“One piece of advice,” he told Izuku. “Train your body as well, young Midoriya! Become stronger. Don’t just focus on, or worry about your quirk!”

Izuku nodded, drinking in every word.

“Oh, and… remember that there are many times when you SHOULD think before moving. Like when a hero is about to take off.”

Izuku couldn’t help but smile. “Yes sir! I— Thank you!”

He bowed one more time, and when he looked up All Might was gone.

The air was calm, like nothing had happened. Izuku stood there.

A second later there was a whooshing sound and All Might was leaping over the roof again.

“By the way! Your notebook — catch!”

The hero saluted and gently tossed the notebook towards Izuku. Izuku reached out, and the notebook snapped to his hand like had always been his.

All Might was gone for good this time. Izuku was suddenly dizzy. His head spun.

He leaned back against the rooftop and sat down, breathing deep. A few more times. When the wave passed, he looked back up.

The sun was almost set. The stars were just starting to come out. He could see Polaris now, the North Star. The one that seemed to shine the brightest. It pointed the way.

Top hero of the stars.

He flipped to the second page.

HIGH SCHOOL APPLICATIONS

1 - Sendai First Hero College (Fukushima)

2 - Takasago Academy (Kobe)

3 - _________________________

OK.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: Tunnel Vision at Blinding Speed

Bakugo was there early.

For once, Izuku was there earlier.

“Ah, uh, hey Bakugo, I—”

“Get out of my way before I vaporize you, nerd.”

Bakugo pivoted away from Izuku, looking for his own spot. He’d find one, Izuku knew. The U.A. campus was massive enough to feel like a small city unto itself, and even the courtyard where prospective students were gathering seemed infinite. Izuku and the other early arrivals had staked out their own spaces like foxholes in the courtyard. Spots they could stay loose, check over last-minute notes, or anything to distract themselves from the nerves that threatened to run rampant. 

“Okay! Good luck!” Izuku said, waving.

Then he almost smacked himself. That was remarkably dumb.

Bakugo looked back, like he was weighing whether the energy was worth releasing. Evidently not. “Tch,” he muttered, and walked off.

Izuku breathed out. His hands felt restless. The courtyard was still mostly empty, and he sat on a large stone at the edge—his own little nest until exam time. The four main U.A. buildings in their famous H shape loomed in front of him looking like they might open up and swallow him whole. Izuku was grateful it was February. He could blame his trembling on the chill.

U.A.’s Entrance Exam was actually here. The Written Exam first. Then the Practical Exam, which was the stuff of schoolyard legends. Its format changed every year, and you didn’t know what you were in for until minutes before it started. 

Izuku pulled out Hero Analysis for the Future, Vol. 14 and opened to the first page.

PULLFORCE

Current Limit

Approx. 30 kg, depending on distance

Flames approx. baseball-sized — path somewhat adjustable

Multiple objects — can “hold” up to six weight-dependent, pull one

Pull Speed — approx. 150-160 kph??

“OK, don’t overthink your quirk’s abilities they are what they are and you don’t know what the Practical Exam involves so just focus on remembering your formulas for the Written…”

——————

All Might’s words. Train your body. Actually, that’d been the easier part of the last ten months. At first Izuku had spent way too long obsessively analyzing diet and exercise regimens to find the perfect mix before realizing he was wasting time and just starting. Maybe the positive reinforcement helped. His mom had worried about him, but he’d seen her smile when she saw he was actually serious. The jokes from classmates about how swole he was getting. He wasn’t really, of course, but he could definitely consider himself lean now. Balanced. Strong enough? Maybe. And looking around at the All Might posters and memorabilia in his room. Reminding himself of the real All Might’s words.

Bakugo had mostly limited any remarks he might have made to snide looks in the background. The self-satisfied kind that said to keep dreaming. Or maybe, Izuku wondered, more satisfaction that he had someone to measure himself against, someone beat to get into U.A. He’d seen Bakugo’s body change over the past ten months as well. Maybe Bakugo was just too busy looking at his own future to be a holy terror to everyone else.

The tougher part had been training with Pullforce. Getting time and space wasn’t the issue. One of the benefits of having a non-flashy quirk is that it’s easier to find places to train without getting fined or yelled at. It was more… finding the best method. The intrinsic understanding, the knowledge, those were baked in. And he’d gotten stronger over time. He was accurate. And fast. But there was so much that could be developed more. What were the actual limits of Pullforce? How much could pull, how many things, from how far away?

Not to mention the fire.

Izuku always had to be careful with the fire. He could always bring it towards him; after the last few months he’d finally been able to start controlling their arc, stretching or bending the flames as they came. But once he pulled those flames in, that was about it. He couldn’t fire them off or coat himself with them like Endeavor, couldn’t do much but dissipate them. The fire never scorched his skin, although his clothes were a different story—he’d found that out age eight when his favourite All Might hoody had gone up in a blaze and his mom grounded him for a month.

But so much of Pullforce’s fire side was still undeveloped. He could train objects by throwing baseballs and pull them back—he’d developed a decent good boomerang technique that he hoped might impress some of the testers or judges as an offensive move. He could work out straining to pull heavier and heavier objects and no one would bat an eye. But he couldn’t exactly go out and commit some casual arson to see how much fire he could handle at once.

And now that the ten months had gone by and the Entrance Exam loomed like a hungry shadow, he could only wonder if he’d worked out enough.

——————

The next time Izuku looked up it was almost 9:00 and the courtyard was much more cramped. A few students chatted in pairs or small groups, but most, like Izuku, remained alone with their thoughts. At the front, two floating flatscreens flashed a large 3 in a pulsing green light as the students in that group began filing into the building. Far away, Izuku saw Bakugo amongst them, heading straight to the entrance and jostling a couple students along the way.

Izuku’s own number was 11, which meant… he could only guess. Presumably they were the batches that would take the Practical Exam together. U.A. never publicized the exact numbers of applicants for the Hero Course, but you could find the basics online. About 5,000—10,000 each year. Roughly 500—1,000 picked for the Exams. And about 35 accepted, depending on how many “recommended” students gobbled up spots.

OK, running through the probabilities wasn’t helpful right now. Izuku glanced around the courtyard as if to reset himself, but all he could see there were the other students. One girl had what looked like a straight-up dinosaur transformation quirk. Another guy was so muscular he was almost as wide as he was tall. Feeling outmatched by others—also not helpful.

His mom, of course, had gushed about proud she was and how proud he should be to just make the Entrance Exam. How it was a big accomplishment when less than ten percent of applications were selected. Exam scores, school record, admission essay, plus all the rumours about U.A. “filtering” out students whose quirks stood no chance, although supposedly some snuck in every year. And Izuku smiled and nodded, but in his mind, all that did was raise his overall chances from half a percent to about five percent, which was… better, but still not great.

All Might had told Izuku he could make it—amazing, sure, but All Might didn’t actually know him. His classmates did. Even closer ones like Sota. “No man, just no.” Which is why Izuku had told himself to look at this Entrance Exam as just a shot at the crown. He had safety schools. He had backup plans.

Still, he couldn’t help but look at this as all or nothing.

Maybe just trying to ignore anyone else and focus on All Might’s belief in him was the only way to get through it.

By the time the screens flashed 11 about fifteen minutes later he could feel the cold sweat prickling on his forehead. Okay. Just focus on the next step, Izuku thought, getting to his feet and hefting his backpack. Look confident. He strode forward, eyes on the main buildings getting closer and closer. Just focus on the next step—

On the next step his foot caught on an uneven piece of pavement and he pitched forward.

Or maybe he’ll just faceplant and not even get to the Written Exam.

“Oh god no —” 

His face stopped a couple feet before the ground. He felt weightless, like he was in a cloud.

“Hey! I just didn’t want you to fall!”

A girl’s voice. Bright. Friendly.

Izuku blinked. A girl with short brown hair and rosy cheeks smiled unpretentiously at him. Struck dumb, he could only blink again and notice that he was now floating diagonally in the air.

“Ah! Whoa, uh…”

He kicked his feet, righting himself, and the girl pressed her fingertips together, softly dropping him a few centimeters to the ground.

“Sorry!” she said. “But it’s gotta be bad luck to trip before the Exam.”

Oh dear god it was a cute and cheerful girl just talking openly to him and he had to talk back.

“Th-thanks!” Izuku managed. “No, that was—uh—amazing reaction time, don’t wanna fall, yesh…”

Did he just say ‘yesh?’

Izuku managed to shut up before he dug his grave any further. He was awkward meeting new people at the best of times. Girls, more so. Girls his own age before the biggest test of his life—that was immeasurably off the chart.

But she just laughed.

“Thanks,” she said. “So, are you nervous about the Exam? Cause I sure am! Hey, I’m Uraraka Ochaco.”

He stared blankly for a second. Was his face flushing? It was definitely flushing.

“Oh, uh, Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku.” Yes, yes, he was talking. Better. “So was that your quirk?” 

“Yep. My quirk’s Zero Gravity, I can turn things weightless. I’m just hoping it’s impressive enough!”

“No no, that’s um, that’s very impressive, actually my own quirk uses gravity, well, sort of, I can pull things towards myself so in a way it’s like I’m the center of gravity and um…” —ok now STOP talking— “Good luck!”

Smooth as sandpaper, he thought.

“Yeah, good luck! We should get inside. See you, gravity buddy!”

With that she turned around and jogged to the entrance. He stood there for a moment longer, dazed. Then reality intruded and he realized he was going to be late.

“Ahh!” Izuku bolted into the building after her.

By 10:00 everyone was seated and Written Exams were being passed out. Izuku felt he could almost relax. The room was silent except for the rustling of papers, the odd murmur, and one by one, the barely audible scratching of pencil on paper. There was no casual conversation anymore. Just the sounds of focus, of serious students who expected—or needed to get results. That was fine for Izuku. It left just him and the noise in his head.

He bent down and got to work.

Izuku filled in the answer sheets steadily, not rushing, telling himself not to overthink like he always did. He tried not to stop too long to deliberate or consider an answer twice. Just answer. If he couldn’t trust himself here, there was no way he could on the Practical.

By the time the clock finally hit 1:00, Izuku felt drained… but okay. He could sense the nerves around him building. The air in the auditorium had gotten heavier as proctors collected everyone’s exam. According to the schedule, there were now 20 minutes for students to quietly and neatly eat if they wished (the instructions had highly suggested bringing something), or use the toilet. Izuku, not really trusting his stomach, had only brought two protein bars, but, he thought as he unwrapped one, he was glad he’d done so.

Then it was 1:30, and the lights dimmed. The big screen at the front flickered on, displaying vast canvas of white. And the sound system crackled to life.

“Now please welcome the Head Marshall for this year’s Practical Exam! U.A. Alumni and Faculty Member… The Voice Hero: Present Mic!”

“YEAAAAAAAA!”

Izuku covered his ears. He wasn’t the only one.

“Oh wow it’s Present Mic I’ve listened to his radio show the teachers are U.A. really are top heroes no stop stop you need to listen right now not fanboy…”

Thankfully, Present Mic’s volume drowned out the muttering. Izuku’s heart was steadily knocking against his stomach. 

“Future heroes!,” Mic continued, owning the stage. “You’ve all made it this far, but the biggest test is coming up, the Practical Exam! Are you all ready?”

There were a few confident yeahs. A few hesitant ones. A lot of silence. Present Mic smiled, oblivious to the nervousness—or maybe feeding off it.

“Oooh yeah, I can feel it! I’ve got shivers down my spine! Now for what you’ve all be waiting for! In today’s Practical Exam, we will be watching—and scoring—all of you as you…”

The big screen blinked. The canvas of white vanished and four different mechanical titans appeared. They looked sharp, predatory. Most of all, they looked enormous.

“Battle against our state-of-the-art villain bots in one of our replica cities!”

Izuku’s heart had stopped hitting his stomach. Mostly because his stomach had now dropped somewhere down by his pelvis.

Giant robots. A pure battle trial. 

Pullforce against that?

This was about the worst matchup possible.

His mouth was dry. He tried not to internally combust as Present Mic went through the rules, rapid-fire. The screen rotated through close-ups of the robots and overlays of the testing areas, while assistants moved through the seats, giving each examinee a handout.

“—one, two, and three points respectively! Using your quirks, dispatch as many as you can in our ten-minute time limit to rack up a score. And hey! Absolutely no trying to attack or sabotage other competitors, that’s a straight DQ, baby! This is the hero course! 

“Oh, be sure to stay away from the big one—the zero pointer! We call them the Arena Traps!”

Why couldn’t it have been a quirk showcase? Or a rescue simulation? Izuku couldn’t help but start muttering again as he flipped the handout over and began scribbling.

“Maybe try to pull out joints, but that’s reliant on the construction of the machines and if they can be separated, I can try to use debris but the trajectory would have to be exactly right—“

“Excuse me!” A hand shot up in Izuku’s section a couple rows away from him, startling him out of his reverie. “I have a question! Also—“ 

The student turned to Izuku. It was tall boy with glasses and a posture that suggested he’d never slouched an hour in his life. “You there with the curly hair! Please cease your muttering, as this is a serious exam and it’s disrespectful and distracting to your fellow students!”

“S-Sorry!” Izuku squeaked, shrinking into his seat as the boy turned back to Present Mic and began questioning him about the specifics of the zero-pointers. A few kids around him chuckled. Izuku’s face burned, adding to the discomfort in his gut.

After a couple other questions, a grinning Present Mic cut things off, ordering groups one through seven to file out and head to their assigned Testing Zones. With 21 groups total, that meant the exam would be run in three batches, and nothing for Izuku in group 11 to do now but wait, worry, and try to sketch out a plan. For all the good that might do.

——————

A half hour later, groups eight through fourteen went out, first to change into their gym clothes, then to a waiting area while the Zones were reset. Izuku’s group of about thirty stood around awkwardly, everyone trying to simultaneously scope out the other competitors while at the same time trying not get caught doing so. Izuku flexed his fingers, focusing on breathing. His tracksuit jacket was zipped up. He felt small. Around him, students with visible quirks were getting ready, showing off machinery, muscles, and some things he could only guess at. He noticed the kid who had reprimanded him earlier—Iida, Present Mic had called him when answering his question—wearing a high-end sprinting outfit and looking remarkably comfortable in the cool weather. His quirk seemed to be in his legs; his calves were notably thick and muscular, with a series of metal pipes protruding from them, and like several other students, he looked incredibly fit. Compared to them, Izuku wondered who he was really kidding here. 

He also caught sight of the girl from the courtyard—Uraraka—staring straight ahead as if to block out all distractions. She looked laser focused. Her gravity quirk wasn’t immediately visible. Neither was his. Just remember that. Forget about being intimidated by how people look.

Easier said than done.

Then they were moved out to the front of Testing Zone D, to wait for the go. Izuku could hear some of the others reacting in awe. It was as spectacle. The Zone was at least the size of a couple city blocks. Empty buildings stretched on, some pristine, others crumbling. There were open areas, and hundreds of places to hide. For now, it was silent, seemingly deserted.

It wouldn’t be that way for long. 

They’d have to spread out to find the robots. Or maybe the robots would come to them. Izuku was standing, waiting with everyone else, trying to plan his initial strategy. He wondered how Bakugo had done in the last group. He wondered if he’d score a single point. He had to get at least one, right? He wondered—

“AAAAAAND START!”

Huh?

All around him students blinked and looked around.

“Hey!” Present Mic’s voice boomed from above. “There’s no countdown in a real battle! Ten minutes, kids! PLUS ULTRA!"

There was a moment of mass panic, and then everyone surged forward as the dam broke.

Izuku sprinted alongside them. Iida, the guy with glasses who’d called Izuku out, literally blasted his way to the front, his calves propelling him forward at lightning speed. The pack began to spread out as the fastest students reached the city zone.

Izuku was pacing himself. He couldn’t afford to sprint full-out and get exhausted right away. He’d decided on his strategy. Pullforce couldn’t match up with the quickest or most powerful quirks here. If he ran right into the middle of the city he’d lose. So, once he passed the main gate, Izuku turned left, heading for the outskirts. Less people to compete against. Hopefully, just as many bots. He ran until he saw what looked like the Zone’s corner, then turned right, heading north. Buildings were on either side of him; abandoned-looking storefronts, low-rise apartments. This area of the city was mostly intact. Come on, it was almost a minute into the test, where were the—

*CRASH*

Izuku turned. A one-point robot had broken through a store window. The air was suddenly filled with stomps, yells, small explosions. The robots were awake.

The one-pointer whirred toward Izuku, and he shot his arms up instinctively. Then it did a ninety degree turn, spinning to the sidewalk. Izuku inwardly cursed himself for cowering. 

OK, time for Plan A. Try to take it apart. Joints, loose parts, panels, wiring. Izuku scanned the bot quickly. Its olive green body perched on a single large wheel, with two bulky arms and a “head” on an extending neck. The one-pointer turned again, and this time its optical sensor locked onto Izuku.

He reached out and pulled.

“Let’s go…”

He was aiming for the center joint above the wheel. Izuku strained. The bot seemed to rattle a bit, weaving on its wheel.

Then it righted itself. It swung an arm at him.

“Ah!” Izuku ducked and dashed a few feet away. He scanned the body again. There had to be a weak point.

A panel. If he could pull that open…

Then just as Izuku was reaching, pulling at the panel door, a laser shot from behind him and blasted the robot to pieces. It collapsed, utterly wrecked, and Izuku saw a fey, blonde boy in a billowing white shirt with a large metal belt and a dreamlike expression. From the center of the belt, smoke leaked out.

“Merci!” the stranger declared. “I expect we shall not meet again!”

Merci?

Before Izuku could even wonder what the hell happened the other guy was gone. And Izuku was still stuck on zero points.

Too slow, he thought. Not working. Izuku gritted his teeth.

Keep pushing.

Another one pointer was wheeling out of an alleyway. Izuku was on it quicker this time, finding the same panel. He pulled on it. It wavered, then popped open.

“Damnit!”

There weren’t a bunch of handy wires to rip out. More like circuits. He couldn’t get a feel for them—not enough to manipulate. They looked welded in, too heavy to pull

Oh hell, don’t panic. Don’t freak out. Remember All Might. It’s cheesy, but do it anyway.

You CAN be a top hero!

Izuku glanced down at the pieces of the first robot. The laser had blasted it apart.

Almost too easily…

Plan B. 30kg wasn’t enough to pull joints apart, but debris… Izuku grabbed a twisted chunk of metal from the wreckage. It was lighter than expected. That was a good sign.

Because these robots were big and fast, but brittle. More delicate than they looked. And that made sense. They weren’t actually built to kill. They were built to be killed.

“Hey!” Izuku called. “Mr. villain-bot! Over here!”

He would definitely need to up his witty one-liners one day.

But it worked. The one-point robot spun its wheel and came towards him. Izuku threw the metal chunk as hard as he could. 

Past the robot.

Then he pulled its thread, yanking it back as fast as possible, smashing it straight through the robot’s chassis. It neatly blasted a hole through the middle, sending sparks and metal fragments. The robot wobbled, leaning drunkenly to one side. It wasn’t down quite yet. OK.

Izuku threw another piece and boomeranged it back again.

This time the robot collapsed. Mostly intact. Still scrap.

One point.

Oh god he needed way more than one point.

Izuku took off again in a sprint.

———————

By the five minute mark Izuku realized how much his initial gameplan might have cost him. He’d hoped to stick to the edges—try there to deal with one and two-pointers as they came. He’d figured the heart of the Zone, near the gates, would be a gladiatorial train wreck of students and robots and destruction, and he wouldn’t stand a chance there.

That was the trap. He should have gone straight for ground zero and used as much random detritus as he could against as many robots as possible. Because picking off a few stray one-pointers was not going to be enough. He’d put together all of four points, struggling to nail the quicker, “easier” bots with his quirk, before running into a three-pointer.

They were bigger. Bulkier. Stronger and more menacing. And Izuku had to swallow his fear against them. Because they were also slower and so much easier for him to hit. He should have gone after them from the start.

Izuku had a long piece of rebar salvaged from a half-collapsed building as he ran back to the center of the action. It worked the best, was the most precise. He’d hurl it like a javelin behind the robot, then pull it back, spearing them through.

As he ran past an alley, another student stumbled out. A guy with curly orange hair, tall but scrawny, his shirt torn. He looked scared and exhausted.

“My quirk…” the kid gasped, out of breath. “I’ve run out, I…”

The student dropped to his knees as a three pointer emerged from the alley, dwarfing him.

Izuku hurled the rebar.

“Hey, over here!”

He didn’t hit the robot at all with the first toss, but he got its attention. 

The second and third throws tore through the bot like paper as he pulled the rebar back.

Ten points.

By the time he’d reached the maelstrom near the front of the Zone a couple minutes later, Izuku was sitting on twelve or fourteen. It depended on how they’d score the two-point robot he and the guy with the hulk-like arm had kind of smashed at the same time. They’d come from either end, and only seen each other just before the robot collapsed. So… do they split the points or something? Izuku shrugged. Hulk-Arm guy shrugged back. Which was kind of a funny visual since he had one giant arm and shoulder. 

More to the point, by the time Izuku was back near the front of Testing Zone D he was sure he was going to be too late to make up for lost time.

“THREE MINUTES LEFT, STUDENTS!”

The streets here were clogged with robot and building debris. One mid-rise building had enough spare parts piled in front of it to reach the second floor. 

They were also clogged with his competition. Some were out of gas—Izuku caught sight of a few students who’d moved to the sidelines, bent over or sitting down, waiting for the buzzer. A couple still moved with confidence, seemingly unworried. Izuku caught sight of Iida, the guy with glasses and the quirk with his calves, as he leaped in the air, using a blast from his leg muscles to hurl himself towards a stray two-pointer and blast it apart with a kick. He looked born for this. 

Then there were the students moving fast but without a destination. The ones frantically looking around, panic at the edge of their eyes. Izuku knew exactly what they were thinking. Because he was one of them.

Time was running out. Time was running out and they needed more points. And there were no longer enough points to go around.

He’d screwed it up. He’d waited too long to find the right strategy. And now there were piles of stuff he could use with Pullforce, but not enough robots to use them against.

“There have to be some more somewhere, maybe hidden, chances for us to find them like bonuses in a video game or something, come on…”

Izuku’s legs were starting to leaden up, but he willed them to move. Just a few more minutes. He checked a side street. Glass shattered.

He saw smoke. 

That meant fire.

Izuku ran. 

Outside a building that was supposed to represent a department store Izuku saw the smoke coming out of the broken display window and front door. A girl jogged past him, coughing. Her hair, spiked up and pink, crackled with some kind of electric quirk. 

“Watch out,” she said as she passed. “I got one robot in there, but it’s caught fire.”

Izuku ran faster.

When he reached the front of the building he saw the flames coming from deep inside. The fire was smoky, but not spreading much; there was no danger of the building burning down. And when Izuku listened, he could hear something too.

There were more robots inside. He reached out his hands.

Wait.

He couldn’t just pull without checking. Even if it wasted precious time.

“Hey!” Izuku called out. “Is there anyone in there? Anyone need help?”

After a few seconds there was no answer, and he latched onto the flames.

The fire surged towards his hands—two separate lines, two ropes of flame attached to the source at one and Izuku at the other. Something inside crashed to the ground. He couldn’t really see—the smoke was in his eyes—but it sounded like he’d hit one. 

“Come on!” Izuku screamed, holding the lines of fire. “Any more?”

He sprinted quickly, left to right, whipping the flames, bending their arcs with Pullforce, trying to hit any other bots in the building. He was rewarded with another robot crumbling inside… maybe two? He wasn’t sure. The sounds blended together. He couldn’t even tell if they were one or three pointers. Still, he had to just hope that—

There was a clap of thunder, and an unearthly rumble to his west.

What the heck was that?  Izuku let go of the flames. They dissipated in his hands, returning back inside. His tracksuit cuffs were burned off. Izuku didn’t notice. He ran a block backwards to check out the sound, and immediately regretted it.

An entire six-story building collapsed into rubble, and the zero-pointer emerged. It dwarfed any of the other robots, looming over the nearest students like a Tyrannosaur. Then it swung a metal limb, and another building partly collapsed.

“Holy shit!”

“That’s the Arena Trap!”

“Get out of here!”

The students were taking off. Izuku turned to join them. No one in their right mind would waste time fighting that thing. 

Then he heard a groan of pain.

It was the girl from earlier—Uraraka.  The one who’d said it was bad luck to trip before an exam. The shockwave had caught her wrong; pinning her legs under a small pile of rubble. She reached back, trying to float the debris away, but couldn’t touch it. She was just a few dozen meters from the zero-pointer’s incoming steps.

Izuku moved. The exhaustion of the last nine minutes was catching up to him, and his breath was starting to get short, but he didn’t really think. “Hey, are you OK?” 

She pushed herself up on her elbows, momentarily dazed. “I… who?”

He pulled bits of the wreckage away—small stones, then larger chunks. “Don’t worry! I’m…uh…”

He wasn’t sure if he was actually going to finish that with “I am here!” He hoped not. Thankfully, she spared him the potential embarrassment. The girl was shaking her head, clearing it, and kicking her way out of the rubble. He bent down to help her up. 

She looked at him—then past him. “Whoa, watch out!” she said.

“Huh?”

Uraraka slapped a slab of concrete. It floated instantly, and she shoved it at the zero-pointer’s arm, which had been reaching toward Izuku unawares. The massive bot swatted it aside easily, but it bought them time. “Let’s go!” she said, now grabbing his hand and letting him pull her up. They scrambled down the street, looking back just as the robot lumbered away like an apathetic industrial god.

Izuku’s chest was heaving. The girl’s face was flushed.

For the first time he actually felt a bit heroic. Helping her felt almost like All Might’s belief coming true.

But he still had to get more points.

“I’ve got to—“ he started.

“Thanks, yeah—“ she cut in.

“AAAAAAAND TIME IS UP FOLKS!”

Present Mic’s amplified voice rang through the streets. There was a pregnant pause, and the mock city fell silent. The robots powered down. Izuku and Uraraka looked at each other.

“Um…”

“Well…”

“Good luck!” They both blurted out, blushing.

———————————

That was it. That was U.A. Back to the waiting area, then back to the lockers, and then he’d be heading home.

He was still gulping air, feeling a bit dizzy. He could check that up to all the running. Izuku made a mental note to do more cardio going forward. His body—inside, not in any specific place—felt almost strained. Maybe from how much he’d used Pullforce in the last ten minutes.

His mind though? Noisier than ever. He couldn’t stop replaying the exam in his head. Those wasted first few minutes when he had the wrong idea. The other routes he could have taken. And most of all, he was just tallying up the points, over and over. 

It depended on how U.A. scored certain things. And he might have gotten an extra couple points in that smoky department store. So they didn’t add up to an exact number he could point to.

But they didn’t add up to more than twenty, he was sure of that. No matter how many times he ran the calculations in his mind, as if he were hoping some miraculous new formula would present itself.

Fifteen, maybe twenty points.

How many had that Iida guy gotten? How many would Bakugo have scored?

Izuku knew. Well… OK, not literally. But it was close enough to count as knowledge. He wasn’t dumb.

He knew that fifteen or twenty points were pretty good just based on what he saw. He knew that he should be pretty proud of that; it was likely more than most kids got. He knew he’d come a lot further than he’d felt was possible a year ago.

He also knew that fifteen or twenty points weren’t going to be enough. Not for U.A.

JUST AS A NOTE: Izuku's Pullforce quirk is inspired from these ancient Tumblr pics: