The class, I mean, homeroom teacher... did not look very "classy." Not at all.
At first, we only heard a rustling sound, like someone dragging a body in a bag.
That guess wasn't far off, because a giant, fat, yellow caterpillar was crawling past the front desks.
Setsuna screamed and jumped into the blinking Yui's arms, Momo squealed and climbed onto her chair, pulling her legs up, Mina grabbed a random backpack and raised it over her head, ready to defend herself, Aoyama yelped and hid behind Mina, and Kirishima tried to wrestle the backpack away from her.
I gave a thumbs-up to the blushing Midoriya, who, as a result of all this jumping around, had seen some girl’s legs above the knee and was now trying to process the information. No worries, once you're done with my "how to stop being a timid nerd" course, we'll turn you into a normal person and integrate you back into society in no time. I guarantee it! Vote for Niren Shoda!
Finally, after all the commotion (though even this pantomime hinted at the real capabilities of this person—try opening a door while zipped up inside a sleeping bag), Shota Aizawa emerged from the yellow sack and stood before us in all his glory.
He inspired... melancholy.
Thin, with long, tangled black hair, a week's worth of stubble, dark circles under his red eyes, wearing a grimy black cloak instead of regular clothes, and with a dozen coils of elastic bandages around his neck... he looked like a dead Severus Snape at the end of the wizard movie, after being bitten by a snake and partially mummified, but suddenly brought back to life because "every school needs a scary Potions professor, Harry."
Sometimes, my memory—mutated by my Quirk—gets me down. If only I remembered something useful from my past life, like physics or programming...
Still, I wasn’t under any illusions. This guy could probably wipe the floor with all of us. Maybe even all at once. My eyes caught his smooth, almost feline movements—only masters of martial arts move like that—and the tight muscles beneath his black "mantle."
Especially considering that those bandages around his neck were his weapon.
... Oh, and by the way, it was already ten minutes past eight. Apparently, Aizawa had just given us time to get acquainted. He glanced around the room, the atmosphere still tense, and muttered:
"Ah. I see you’ve already realized where you’ve landed and lost your childish enthusiasm."
That didn’t help the mood.
Finally reaching his desk, he pulled out a black notebook that looked more like a battered journal, flipped through a couple of pages, and started calling our names monotonously. Just like in any regular school. Hmm. Maybe this was a way to calm us down with something familiar and prepare us for the next challenge? Or, on the contrary, shock us with a sudden shift to something extreme? Hard to tell.
When he got to Yui, Aizawa-sensei looked through his tangled hair at her, sitting side by side with Momo, chewed his lip, and asked:
"Are you two sisters?"
Yui silently shook her head.
I snickered. I'd been saying they looked alike for years, ha ha ha…
When he got to Momo, he glanced up from the notebook for the second time and looked at the front row again:
"Why aren’t you in your seat?"
Yaoyorozu shivered, staring at her knees, and mumbled quietly:
"I didn’t... it wasn’t me... she took it..."
"I want to sit here!" Toga chirped brightly and cheerfully from behind me.
Ah, finally.
Remember how I said Aizawa would fix everything and put everyone back in their proper seats?
"Oh. Okay," Aizawa said, turning back to his notebook. "Next..."
After quickly finishing roll call, this guy then pulled out a slightly crumpled set of gym uniforms from the sack he had crawled in with—twenty of them, each with a name tag and the U.A. logo in the school’s traditional blue-and-white color scheme—laid them out on the nearest desk, and told us all to change.
Right there. Apparently, everyone. Boys and girls, in the same room.
I silently took my uniform from his hands, walked back to my desk, and was about to start changing right there. Why not? He didn’t mention the locker rooms, so this was probably another test.
Seems like the Academy doesn't waste time on preparation. Psychological pressure from day one, huh?
I grabbed the collar of my shirt.
"Sensei… ribbit, where are the locker rooms?" Tsuyu Asui timidly asked, clutching her uniform.
I unbuttoned the top button.
"Oh, right," Aizawa responded in a completely emotionless tone. "Locker rooms are to the left, down the hall on your left-hand side. You have ten minutes."
I buttoned the top button again.
“:)”
The locker rooms were impossible to mix up—they were marked with huge, corresponding letters in different colors. Leaving the girls, both familiar and not, alone with Toga felt risky, but I headed to the boys' section anyway. Otherwise, they might have gotten the wrong idea.
The uniforms were really cool—light, smooth, but felt very durable. As a test, I tried to tear a bit from the inside so it wouldn’t be noticeable. The fabric gave in, but I had to apply some force.
While changing, I glanced at my classmates. Most, though not all, were in good shape—toned and fit. However... to my surprise, at my one hundred eighty-something centimeters, I turned out to be the tallest. And probably the most physically built—the only one who could compete was Iida, which makes sense, as he's a sprinter. Just think of those Olympic Jamaican runners from my world...
And to think I was sure this class would have a few nearly two-meter-tall tanks. Oh well.
After changing, we were told to head to the sports field—one of many at U.A. Ours, unsurprisingly, was 1A, right behind the main Academy building, shaped like a giant "H." And it was enormous.
***
At the same time.
Near the main building, sports field 1A, first-year hero course students, U.A. Academy.
Yui Kodai.
"Did you see what Niren is doing?" Yui quietly asked the nearest part of Setsuna capable of hearing as they followed their classmates to the field.
Why they had to go there, she still hadn’t figured out, and she wasn’t too happy about it. It didn’t seem like a presentation or a tour. Not a lecture, either. Another test? Or, more accurately, an unexpected one? And what next? Testing everyone’s abilities? They’d have practical classes every day now, so there’d be plenty of time for that. Testing someone specific? Well, maybe. But everyone had changed into gym uniforms. So, another round of physical tests?
She had just barely recovered from the overuse of her Quirk during the entrance exam, and she wasn’t too keen on pushing herself again.
And the teacher was strange... didn’t seem like a pro hero at all.
She should have asked Niren what he thought about all this, but the class had split into groups by gender, and he had already gone ahead. Besides, he was acting a bit grumpy today.
"What do you mean?" Setsuna asked, confused.
"Can’t you see what he’s doing with that boy... Midoriya?"
"Uh… sitting next to him? Walking with him?"
Yui sighed. Tokage was, in general, a smart girl and a good friend, but most of the time she preferred to keep her brain in energy-saving mode, separate from herself.
"I was the one he mentored for a long time, teaching and guiding me. Then, when we picked you up off the street…"
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"Screw you, Matryoshka."
"... Niren started looking after you, too. And now our spiritual mentor, as he puts it, has started ‘training’ this boy. Don’t you see?"
Setsuna grew more serious and glanced toward the subject of discussion, who was walking about fifteen steps ahead. She still didn’t seem to grasp the point.
"Well... maybe. And so what?"
"But what's so special about him? Why him, of all people?"
"Well, he did take down that giant robot with one punch, when it took Niren at least ten hits. I wonder how long it would take me to—"
Yui hurriedly (for her, hurriedly; for everyone else, just a little faster and louder) whispered:
"No, you don’t understand. Midoriya doesn’t need help—with that kind of power, he’ll be fine on his own, with his career and Quirk development. We needed help because we couldn’t see the full potential of our Quirks. Midoriya is different. His potential is obvious and undeniable. Which makes it… simple. So why is Niren so focused on him? What does he see in him?"
Now Setsuna Tokage was thinking, frowning…
Then, suddenly coming to some conclusion, she looked at Yui with horror in her eyes:
"You don’t… you don’t think he’s… you know…"
"What?"
Setsuna leaned in and lowered her voice:
"You know… one of those!"
Yui was still confused.
"Like his hair! Colorful, I mean… rainbow! Definitely batting for the other team! Ga—"
"Setsuna, you’re an idiot."
No way. It can’t be, right?
Kodai didn’t even want to consider the possibility that such a scandalous suggestion could be true, so instead, she gave her friend a smack on the head.
"Why am I the idiot..." Setsuna grumbled, rubbing her head. "I followed the rules for forming a hypothesis. Is there an observation? Yes. Was an experiment conducted? Yes…"
"What experiment?" Yui narrowed her eyes.
Setsuna put her hands on her hips, sticking out her chest confidently:
"A totally real experiment! Two of them, you see? Cool, right? Yeah, I think so too. Cool! But Niren never looks at my… ahem, charms. And you know how charming they are, right? If I were a guy… I’d totally go for me! See, see?"
Yui covered her eyes in frustration, not even realizing that this gesture—like so much else—had been instilled in her by their friend. A friend that, in Setsuna’s mind, might be… blue.
It seemed it hadn’t even occurred to her that someone might not be looking at her, Setsuna, as a girl simply because she was, well… Setsuna.
Yui could only hope that Niren never found out about this conversation. Otherwise, he’d never let them live it down.
***
At the same time, same place, same people.
Niren.
Once we were all lined up in some semblance of a formation, Severus Aizawa announced:
"Now, you’re all going to take a Quirk assessment test."
Classmates began to murmur timid protests and questions about things like the entrance ceremony, a tour of the Academy, and orientation. The teacher shut that down:
"If you plan on becoming professional heroes, you don’t have time for such trivial activities."
I felt a smile begin to tug at my lips. Finally… finally something important, a lesson from someone who really valued time…
Standing with his back to us, looking like a gloomy, huddled crow, Aizawa turned his head and glanced at us over his shoulder:
"The thing about U.A. is that it’s not bound by tradition. This applies to how teachers conduct their lessons."
The students deflated completely, and Aizawa, sarcastically commenting on bureaucrats wasting time at the Ministry of Education, announced that we were going to do the same old physical tests we’d been taking every six months in regular school.
Only this time, we could use our Quirks to the fullest.
And the standards were designed without any Quirk usage...
It seemed like Snape wasn’t just interested in testing us—he wanted to emphasize our newfound elitism. And that makes sense—heroes have the right to use their Quirks in public. Even first-year students with a provisional license.
After glancing at me, Eraserhead squinted, but for some reason addressed the explosive blond:
"Bakugo, did you place first in the practical exam?"
Bakugo visibly gritted his teeth but spat out:
"Second."
Not at all surprised (I was starting to suspect that Shota was actually a massive troll, exploiting his teacher's immunity to pull whatever pranks he wanted), Aizawa tossed Bakugo a regular baseball—well, actually, a softball—and instructed him to perform a standard distance throw. The main point was simple: stand in the designated circle, and then do whatever you want, just focus on the result.
The key was to use your Quirk to the fullest.
By the way, softball is its own sport, though it’s quite similar to baseball. The ball, however, is different—softer, obviously, yellow instead of white, a bit bigger but lighter. To me, softball always felt like a kid-friendly version of volleyball, something more like dodgeball for students rather than the real deal. And yes, it’s traditionally used for school fitness tests. Probably because it’s less likely for one kid to knock another out cold with it. Although, to be honest, the ball isn't that much softer…
Standing in the circle, after warming up and shooting a glare my way, the blond psycho screamed, "DIE!" and blasted the ball skyward with an explosion. The ball flew off into the distance.
Aizawa showed us his phone, which displayed the distance via some nifty app. "Seven hundred four point four meters," it read.
Considering the average distance for a normal student's throw ranges between thirty to fifty meters, this was seriously impressive.
The class buzzed with excitement, admiring Bakugo’s Quirk and getting hyped at the prospect of showing off their own abilities, hoping to climb up the tribe’s hierarchy.
Aizawa didn't seem pleased. From what I could gather, he wasn’t pleased by much.
"Having fun, are we?"
The students fell silent. At that moment, I could barely identify with their collective mindset, so I just stood off to the side, observing quietly, showing little emotion.
"You have three years to become professional heroes. Do you think you’ll maintain this attitude the entire time?"
My classmates, especially Midoriya, paled, and I didn’t blame them. It’s hard to keep a level head when you’re constantly bombarded with success stories of superheroes in flashy costumes. The world outside only feeds you tales of victory, rarely the grueling work that goes into it.
And then our homeroom teacher decided to motivate us further, with a rather nasty smile hidden beneath his hair:
"Alright. Whoever places last in all eight tests will be considered to have no potential and will be expelled."
Oh! I remember this moment.
I mirrored Aizawa’s smile. Don’t worry, our protagonist—sorry, I mean Izuku—will show you what he’s made of. I glanced at Midoriya, and he looked like he was about to faint.
Well… what can you do? I wasn’t going to rush over with advice or comfort. Sure, friendship and psychological rehabilitation are important, but I need an ally who is strong both in body and spirit—someone potentially much stronger than me. Therefore, every turning point, every challenge he faces, he needs to overcome on his own… with maybe some support from me and a couple of reliable friends.
Not to mention that hinting at him to use his Quirk in a way that I only know because he figured it out in World A feels like tampering with causality.
But the next thing the teacher said caught me completely off guard:
"And as for whoever takes first place overall… let me think… perhaps a trip to I-Island, courtesy of the Academy. With the opportunity to buy something to enhance their Quirk."
I slowly turned my gaze back to him.
I didn’t remember this.
Moreover… was he serious? A trip to I-Expo? The largest and most technologically advanced research center for Quirks? The place where they make the coolest gear for pro heroes?
I need that.
Wait… hold on. Here’s the test. Right here. But what is he trying to uncover? Or who? Is he trying to push us to our limits… or, oh.
Could it be that, besides Midoriya, he wants to test me too?
Have I already been exposed?
Chills ran down my spine.
"... But it’s only the first day of school! No, even if it weren’t the first day, this would still be way too unfair!"
I glanced cautiously at Eraserhead. But he wasn’t looking at me; he was lazily explaining to the adorably outraged Uraraka that Japan, like a buttered slice of bread, is spread with all sorts of unfair things like earthquakes, natural disasters, and villains. And it’s the heroes who are there to restore fairness in such situations.
In short, it was textbook demagoguery. Classic. You could tell the man had experience muddling young minds.
"For the next three years, U.A. will do everything it can to throw challenge after challenge at you. Push your limits. Plus Ultra," Aizawa smirked and beckoned us forward with a finger. "Overcome this challenge by giving it your all."
Good speech.
No… it’s too early for me to start panicking. Maybe he just wants to motivate a couple of talented students like me and Todoroki, who aren’t showing their full potential yet.
Plus, besides me, there are at least two other highly suspicious students here: Toga and the fog guy.
His name, by the way, was Kiyotaka Shinya.
And, you know, when I first heard his name—when Aizawa was taking roll call about thirty minutes ago—I was really puzzled: this Kiyotaka placed ninth in the entrance exam.
One question: how?
He didn’t display anything I would consider serious combat skills. Sure, he was agile and fairly quick. And yes, his fog Quirk can put people to sleep, which is excellent for a hero. Against living people. But… robots? What could he possibly have done to them? The few he barely finished off in front of me wouldn’t have been enough to pass.
Maybe his fog makes him stronger while he’s inside it? But that didn’t seem to be the case… And he didn’t cover himself head-to-toe in fog when finishing off the robots.
Unless he has more than one Quirk… but that’s impossible, right?
Hmm. Theoretically, it is possible.
But it’s too soon to accuse the guy of being a servant of All For One just because I don’t understand how he passed the exam, don’t you think?
Alright. Now the important question.
Do I want to give it my all and try to win that trip?
I cast an evaluating glance at the crowd of students stretching before me.
Well… first of all, this could be a setup. Shota has already proven himself to be quite the trickster.
Secondly, to maintain my cover, I can’t go all out, no matter what’s at stake. Whatever happens, whatever’s on the line, the overt and delayed use of my markers must be reserved for the events at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, “USJ” for short. It’s a matter of life and death.
After all, I have a Plan.
By the way, the USJ is a massive training ground, built by the superheroine Thirteen, specifically for training U.A. students. You can save people there, or not. You can drown, burn, or suffocate under a collapse, even all at once. Basically, it’s a large polygon simulating all sorts of disasters: floods, tsunamis, landslides, fires, and so on.
And when our class visits the USJ for the first time… it will be attacked by a horde of villains. Real villains, I mean. Killers, rapists, robbers.
Their goal will be to kill some of us and take the rest hostage to lure out All Might—and then kill him.
This must not be allowed to happen.
That’s why I have a Plan. In fact, my entire reason for "ending up" here, the very purpose of my reincarnation in this world, might boil down to changing the events of that day.
That day is what I’ve been preparing for all these years, through grueling training until my hands bled.
I don’t know exactly when that day will come.
But I know it’s soon.
And I know that to execute the Plan, I need every possible ace up my sleeve.
No one else will do this but me.
No one will change the future but me.
So… now the question is whether it’s worth it, with a trip to the largest hero supply center on the line, where I might be able to commission armor that would let me use my Quirk without worrying about injuries.
Is it worth it? Or not?
What’s the first event on the list? The 100-meter dash?
And who’s going first? Iida?
I grinned.
Illustrations:
image [https://cm.author.today/content/2024/09/08/c1d5d333775047c885ac7d3ffeaf8406.jpg]
Locker rooms with a subtle DC Comics reference.
image [https://cm.author.today/content/2024/09/08/5f727164b680426da247ff9cf350a24e.jpg]
Class 1A’s collective shock, aka the typical students who just survived finals.
image [https://cm.author.today/content/2024/09/08/6c29ba15116f4594802e313cdd1ca52e.jpg]
That nasty grin.