MHA: Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

The week leading up to the announcement of the results wasn't particularly memorable.

We hung out at a café with the girls, but none of us, not even Setsuna, were in the mood to eat anything tasty or unhealthy. We parted ways. I went to the movies. They must have been showing something rather mediocre because I just fell asleep. Came back home. Slept again. Ordered a pizza and ate it. Downloaded a few popular, fast-paced games at home on my computer, like a new shooter or the tenth sequel to the third prequel of a famous fighting game.

I spent a long time trying to remember what it was like to play games, then lazily got into it and spent a couple of hours before getting bored. The game I liked the most was a children’s racing game, judging by the look of it, where for some reason the goal wasn't to be the first to cross the finish line but to drive a huge soccer ball around. It turned out that without practice and my own markers, I was just an ordinary... schoolboy, albeit with good reflexes. Amusing, really.

Went to bed. Didn’t sleep well and woke up cranky. Decided not to go for a run... couldn't find a place for myself in the house, irritated and dissatisfied with the imperfections around me.

After wandering around for half an hour, I spat and went for a run.

This was a day after the exam. I tried my best to force myself to rest... but I couldn't handle it, couldn't endure it, and the very next day I returned, with relief, to my usual schedule of jogging, training, more training, fast-paced venturing with the help of a quirk, hiding on rooftops... watching the news, taking notes on new and old villains and heroes... in general, the things I could control.

Seems like this is already some kind of professional deformation.

I refreshed the website with the leaderboard a couple of times, the one showing the scores of the top ten U.A. applicants. But it stayed dark and empty. Shrugging, I gave up: Setsuna would have texted me anyway if something had changed—she was practically glued to the monitor around the clock that week.

And then, after six uneventful days, a letter from U.A. arrived.

I opened it.

A regular envelope with some mechanical disc inside.

I turned it over in my hands, shrugged...

The disc lit up and shot a beam of light right into my eyes.

Cursing quietly, I looked at the hologram and listened to the brief, concise, and emotionless speech of Mike Nishida, a professional hero and another U.A. instructor—Ectoplasm. A hero in a recognizable black mask, capable of creating dozens of clones, he "teaches mathematics" and also provides instruction on tactical action in combat situations—straight from special forces manuals. Or so it seems.

Without his hero armor, he looked rather colorful: a tall, thin guy in huge round glasses like Harry Potter’s and a sweater over a shirt. Really, like a professor at a prestigious college, and nothing like a famous superhero, especially not one as dangerous as Ectoplasm.

The essence of his speech, meanwhile, was simple: despite my ambiguous actions, which were received differently by the teaching staff...

I was accepted.

And, moreover, I was assigned to Class "A."

And, even more... I took first place in the exam.

I frowned. How did that happen? I only knocked out, at most, forty bots...

Predicting my reaction, the unflappable Ectoplasm explained: although before my "escape," I only scored thirty-three villain points and none for rescue (exemplary hero), my escape catapulted me to first place with an additional sixty rescue points and one for the "Light" robot that got inflated due to Yui's mishap.

Why sixty?

It’s a fixed value for those who pass the "final test" and decide to attack the trap robot to save a lagging teammate. And they succeed in doing so, which is important: a failed rescuer would only get ten. You can score all seventy if, on top of everything, you survive and remain unscathed, but so far, throughout U.A.'s history, there haven't been any such unique cases.

Okay, so why did I get sixty?

Because they initially awarded the same to Izuku Midoriya, and then they decided it wouldn’t be fair to evaluate a similar feat differently.

I chuckled: after an exam like that, they're still talking about fairness? Not a very good joke.

But overall, the news was great.

Where I sat, I melted into a satisfied puddle. Only now did it hit me just how tense I had been all these days. Not only had I risked my chance to influence the future, save someone, win where the "forces of good" would inevitably lose with a different lineup... but also my own well-being and health. I wouldn’t have stopped trying to be a hero, I know myself, but without the armored suit and U.A.'s medical support, it would have been... well, less than ideal.

I smiled, looking at the leaderboard of the top ten applicants, where the first line was highlighted in red. I guess I can be a little proud of myself.

First place: Niren Shoda, 34 villain points, 60 rescue points.

Second place: Katsuki Bakugo, 77 villain points, 0 rescue points.

Third place: Eijiro Kirishima, 39 villain points, 35 rescue points.

Fourth place: Ochako Uraraka, 25 villain points, 45 rescue points.

Fifth place: Ibara Shiozaki, 34 villain points, 30 rescue points.

Sixth place: Itsuka Kendo, 25 villain points, 36 rescue points.

Seventh place: Izuku Midoriya, 0 villain points, 60 rescue points.

Eighth place: Tenya Iida, 50 villain points, 9 rescue points.

Ninth place: Setsuna Tokage, 35 villain points, 23 rescue points.

Tenth place: Kiyotaka Shinya, 25 villain points, 25 rescue points.

Bakugo and Izuku—almost like they're meant to be contrasted. The hero and anti-hero of the story.

I smirked. Interesting, so who, in that case, will be my opponent?

The holographic presentation ended with a dry message that all first-year U.A. Academy students from Class "A" of the hero training faculty are expected on April 6th, at precisely eight in the morning, in classroom number 1A on the first floor of the main building.

“Your destination is behind the large door with the big red number one and the big red letter 'A'. Most first-year students can find the room on their own, so I expect even more from you—to be there on time.”

With that, he signed off, and the hologram went dark.

I smirked. Fun guy.

Out of curiosity, I went to the website and checked the full ranking of all applicants. In the second ten, I found characters like Fumikage Tokoyami, Neito Monoma, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu (his parents sure had a sense of humor), and Yosetsu Awase. None of their names, except perhaps Tokoyami, meant anything to me, unfortunately. Maybe they were heroes in the anime, but—I don't remember. In any case, I’ll meet them.

Yui was also there, in twenty-second place. I think, of all people, she should be able to learn from her mistake. However... it’s partly my fault too—I taught the support to rush into close combat, to my own detriment... and partly the fault of a certain “purple dwarf,” whom our Snow Queen indignantly referred to. I had specific suspicions about who this unpleasant person was, and I could only wait for a closer acquaintance... of my fist with his face.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

After messaging Setsuna and Yui to tell them they did great, I arranged to call in half an hour.

And then...

With a smile, I began preparing for the Academy, for my first hero training lesson, my first session of getting to know the main characters of an alternate history... But as I packed, my smile gradually faded, and I ended up putting my suitcase aside.

It’s March Fifth.

And I’m expected on April Sixth.

"A-a-a!"

 

***

 

I was climbing the walls for a whole month. Pushed myself hard with training again. Wracked my brain over new moves. Went to parkour with Yui. Tested a couple of new techniques... but it was all just that.

For real progress, I needed to move forward. Here, without the unique conditions of U.A., without strong sparring partners, I've already exhausted all available resources and opportunities.

Perhaps the only fun event was when Setsuna, who had gotten the hang of lifting robots into the air during the exam and then slamming them to the ground, suggested that I try flying.

And I—having gotten the hang of landing when falling from that very air during the exam—of course, agreed.

As a result, we flew over the park several times, although we couldn't do it properly—quirks were still not allowed to be used in public places. Tokage was very frustrated and upset, as she also wanted to get to U.A. as soon as possible. It's kind of funny: we're so different, both in age and character, and yet look at us—just a little more, and we'd be hugging and howling at the moon together.

Yui didn't let us howl at the moon, as she threw herself into training with zeal to improve control over her own quirk. Naturally, we were happy to help her because it was better than just waiting...

Unfortunately, a few flights and workouts weren't enough to keep me from thinking.

So, I thought.

First: could I have been exposed because of my quirk? I said it was a typical enhancement quirk, but in reality, it’s some kind of impulses from my hands, spatial orientation, flight, clapping...

Analyzing my performance, I concluded that the chance of being caught was negligible.

Of course, they should have been watching me closely, just like every applicant, and much more closely when I left the test site and moved to another one.

However, one shouldn't forget the number of applicants—there were almost ten thousand. Even if there were seven or eight thousand, considering that the rest might have been filtered out by the theory test. And we were all at different Training Grounds, of which there were at least four—Setsuna was at “D.”

Such little things that happen literally in a couple of seconds, I think, would escape the attention of even most professionals. I didn't notice any tiny drones that could monitor every applicant. And how would you observe someone like Setsuna, who can be in ten places at once?

And even if they noticed me clapping before the impulse... well, see point "This world is very strange!" Who knows why I might clap?

I had just recently trained Yui to stop using certain words and activation gestures to control her quirk, and look, for example, Gravity Girl still needs them.

Maybe it’s more convenient for me, maybe I’m just used to it, or maybe my power only activates in battle, and that’s why I hit myself to become stronger? Suddenly made a joke to myself and applauded myself? And the strength I gain depends on how good the joke is? I wouldn't be surprised at all if such a quirk exists. After all, it's a quirk.

Yeah... sounds like self-justification.

In any case, I had a backup plan for what to say if I was exposed.

I mean, if I'm exposed before societal foundations begin to shake and no one cares anymore...

By the way, judging by the leaderboard, or rather, the rescue points, the girl who nullifies gravity is named Ochako—because it's unlikely anyone else was as reckless as Izuku and I to go up against the big robot. Well, except for Shinji, but that's a completely different story.

Now, the second thing that worried me: what should I do with my suspicions about the Recovery Girl?

After twisting this ball of thoughts in different ways, I decided to just let it go. The thing is... even if Chiyo didn’t work at U.A. for forty years, but less; even if she is hiding some information about herself; or U.A. is hiding information about her; or I couldn't find much about her simply because I don't know how to use Google—in any case, they wouldn’t have taken an unchecked person to the Academy. Especially not as medical staff.

And even if she turns out to be that very traitor... so what? An entire team of professionals, led by a paranoid like Aizawa and a supposed genius like Principal Nezu, hasn't figured her out. A team of professionals working closely with the government!

So how could I?

I'm not so inadequate in assessing my own cognitive abilities.

In short, I decided to forget about it. There's no point in ruining someone's life over some vague and not fully formed suspicions.

And there was a third thing.

What have I done? What will happen next?

The seeds of change I planted in this world's history were starting to bear their... fruits.

At first, I didn't even think to ask which class the girls had gotten into.

And then, a few days later, it somehow came up in conversation when, after training, where we were both chasing Kodai around, we were recovering in one of our usual cafes.

So, basically...

Yui got into Class "A."

And Setsuna got into Class "A."

When I heard this wonderful news, I immediately grabbed my head.

In the reality I knew, both of them ended up in Class "B" of U.A. Academy...

I brushed off their worried questions with a joke, saying I was just imagining studying with both of them for another three years. But... I wasn't at all amused.

This isn’t a small change like Izuku being saved a bit earlier and more efficiently. This is, damn it, a huge change! What if someone's abilities aren't enough at a crucial moment?! What if one of the girls dies because of me, ending up in the wrong place?!

But who will give me an answer now?

Yui’s father, upon hearing about his daughter’s achievements, literally cried. She told us—then she called on the phone—that he was apologizing to his daughter, threw away his beer bottles, and even solemnly promised to get his life back on track. And her mom was crying next to him. They even went outside once, into the sunshine, all three of them.

It's sad. I hope things work out for him.

On the other hand, Setsuna’s mom invited us over for a little get-together at their place. Somehow, I didn't associate this scorchingly sexy office lady with cooking, so I wasn't too surprised by the boxes of noodles and sashimi. But I got a good laugh from Yui’s reaction to such “traditional dishes from the lady of the house” and the desperately blushing Setsuna—her mom was shamelessly and passionately flirting with the only man at the table—me. To which I, accompanied by the girls' outrage, responded in kind and with great pleasure.

In case you're wondering, my own parents didn’t show much emotion, but they were as content and calm as elephants. More precisely, like a married couple of two elephants. They said they never doubted me for a moment and that I didn’t have to take first place from the “poor kids.” Apparently, someone knows me better than I think...

Well, whatever.

There was also some genuinely good news: our schoolmate Akari, the cat-girl, managed to get into Shiketsu! Honestly, I have no idea how she did it; I don’t know anything about their exam because I generally don’t read unnecessary information for myself. But you have to understand that Shiketsu Senior High is the second hero academy in Japan, which is not much less prestigious than U.A. and is the best in the entire west of the country.

And there was some not-so-good news: Mashirao Ojiro, my old mate and sparring partner, with whom we never really developed a normal relationship, did get into U.A.

Into Class “B.”

The guy was overjoyed, almost jumping for this joy; I smiled at him too, praised him, shook his hand and his father's, but I didn’t really understand what I was feeling. Horror? Sadness? Sympathy? Or, really, joy? If I remember correctly, his... now his class, for the time being, didn’t particularly participate in any terrible events; he has every chance to survive. And sparring with me, he got better training than in the canonical events...

Damn. What other butterflies have I stepped on?

 

***

 

On April Sixth, I was standing in front of the door—it really is big!—as early as seven twenty in the morning. This time, the girls decided to come with me, so Setsuna was desperately yawning and kept forgetting to “gather herself into one Setsuna,” leaving some of her parts behind on the way. A terrifying woman. And Yui looked paler than usual.

It’s worth noting that we first had to get a dorm room, drop off our things, and, in general, travel from our city to this one. So we got up quite early. But for some reason, the ladies insisted on “going together this time.”

So, somehow managing to open the door with joint efforts, we were among the first to enter the classroom. At first, I even thought it was another test: if you can't open this monster, then the hero profession is not for you.

We scattered to our desks...

It’s worth noting that each student was assigned a “serial number,” meaning that in every classroom, for example, the same desk was assigned to Yui. I got the nineteenth number, which is way in the back. Setsuna got the ninth. Kodai got the sixth, which is in the front row.

Initially, I thought the seating would be by height or alphabetically, but apparently, the arrangement was completely random.

Proceeding to my row and reserving a spot with my backpack, I found out that the intelligent, modest, and beautiful Momo Yaoyorozu was supposed to sit behind me. I smiled at her; she smiled back. We greeted each other, chatted…

At some point, a spark flickered between us, then a storm, then madness, and finally love. And years later, I would only continue to thank providence, which gave me a chance for such a wonderful relationship that began with sitting next to each other…

Just kidding.

Unfortunately, the storm and madness that flickered between us were of a completely different kind and ended our desk-sharing relationship, but more on that later.

First-year students continued to trickle in, introducing themselves; I also participated, noting one familiar character after another...

A blonde with an explosive temper, who nodded grumpily at Yui in greeting, turned out to be almost my neighbor, a desk away in my row. And something made me think he took a dislike to me from the first glance.

To my right was supposed to sit the same Tokoyami, who turned out to be a literal bird-headed goth... some Sero with rolls of tape instead of elbows—a very positive, lanky guy; I liked him immediately... and a certain Shoto Todoroki, who looked at everyone else as if they were dirt. I gave him a big smile. I think we'll get along—first, I'll just have to scrape him off my shoe.

In general, everything was fine, everything was good... well, except for the absence of Mashirao here. I certainly couldn’t complain about the presence of the girls.

Everything was...

But then, almost at the last moment, two people entered the class, and I groaned and dropped my head onto the desk with a loud thud. I have a complicated relationship with desks in general.

Damn it!

I broke everything!

I completely broke the canon!

 

Illustrations:

Ectoplasm’s everyday look. Professor Stephen Hawking, is that you?

 

The door. Big door!

 

Canonical table. Too lazy to redo it for the fic.

 

And... bonus. Setsuna Tokage's mom, hot as the desert sand at noon.

 

Author's Note:

In situations where characters don’t have their own names and surnames, only heroic/villainous nicknames, I decided to use the names and surnames of two seiyuu, that is, the actors who voice the character in the anime. Because, most often, there is both a Japanese and an American actor, it turns out to be a mix. Like in the case of Ectoplasm, for example.