What if deku had kipo power's

 

All men are not created equal. 

This was the harsh, immovable reality that Izuku Midoriya learned at the tender age of four. It was a lesson not taught in a classroom, nor read in a textbook, but delivered in the sterile, fluorescent-lit confines of a pediatrician’s office. 

Izuku could still remember the distinct smell of that room—a clinical mixture of rubbing alcohol and cheap plastic toys. He remembered sitting on the crinkly paper of the examination table, his legs dangling over the edge, clutching a limited-edition All Might action figure so tightly his knuckles were white. He had been so full of hope, so brimming with the electric anticipation of what his Quirk would be. Would he breathe fire like his father? Could he pull objects to him like his mother? Or would it be a dazzling combination of the two? 

The doctor, an older man with a bald head and a completely apathetic demeanor, had sighed, tapping a pen against an X-ray of Izuku’s foot. 

"You should probably give it up," the doctor had said. Just like that. Five careless words that shattered a little boy's universe. 

He had pointed to the extra joint in Izuku’s pinky toe, explaining the evolutionary divergence that separated the Quirked from the Quirkless. Izuku hadn't understood the science. He had only understood the silence that followed. He remembered the heavy, suffocating silence in the car ride home. He remembered sitting in the dark of his bedroom, watching a video of All Might saving a hundred people from a disaster, the hero’s booming laugh echoing through the computer speakers. 

“Can I be a hero too?” Izuku had asked, tears streaming down his face as he pointed at the screen. 

His mother, Inko, hadn’t answered the question. Instead, she had fallen to her knees, pulling him into a desperate, tearful embrace, apologizing over and over again. “I’m sorry, Izuku. I’m so sorry.”

But that wasn’t what he needed to hear. He didn't need apologies. He needed someone to tell him that despite his biology, despite the missing genetic marker, he could still stand in the light. 

Ten years later, Izuku was still waiting for someone to say it.

"So, as third-year students, it's time to start thinking seriously about your futures!" 

The homeroom teacher's voice cut through the dull murmur of the classroom at Aldera Junior High. He stood at the front of the room, holding a stack of career aptitude papers. With a dismissive chuckle, he tossed the papers into the air, letting them scatter across his desk like confetti. 

"But who am I kidding? You're all planning to go into the hero course, right?"

The classroom erupted. Teenagers leaped from their desks, cheering and showing off a chaotic array of Quirks. A boy with rocky skin flexed his arms; a girl elongated her neck to peer out the window; another student shot small bursts of water from his fingertips. It was a dazzling, noisy display of superhuman genetics. 

Izuku shrank down in his seat, keeping his head low. He raised a timid hand, barely an inch above his desk, hoping to blend into the background. 

"Yes, yes, you all have wonderful Quirks," the teacher said, waving them down. "But remember, using your powers in school is against the rules! Now, let's see... Ah, Bakugo. You're aiming for U.A. High, aren't you?"

The noise in the room instantly evaporated. All eyes turned toward a boy slouched in his chair near the back. Katsuki Bakugo had his feet kicked up onto his desk, a scowl etched permanently onto his face. He didn't just exude confidence; he radiated arrogant supremacy.

"Don't lump me in with these background characters," Bakugo sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "They'll be lucky to end up as sidekicks to some busted D-lister. Me? I'm going to U.A. I aced the mock exams, and I'm the only one here with the power to surpass All Might himself. I'm going to be the top hero, and I'll be one of the richest people in the world!"

As if to punctuate his declaration, small, crackling explosions popped like firecrackers in the palms of his hands. The smell of burnt sugar and nitroglycerin drifted through the classroom. 

The teacher nodded, unfazed. "Oh, right. Midoriya, didn't you also apply for U.A.?"

Izuku’s breath hitched. Time seemed to stop. Every head in the room swiveled toward him. For a split second, there was total silence. 

Then, the laughter started. It wasn't just lighthearted teasing; it was loud, mocking, and deeply cruel. 

"Midoriya? No way!"

"You can't get into the hero course just by studying!"

"He doesn't even have a Quirk! What's he gonna do, take notes at the villains?"

"Th-they got rid of that rule!" Izuku stammered, standing up defensively, his voice trembling. "There's no rule against Quirkless students applying anymore! I could be the first! I just have to try—"

CRASH.

Izuku’s desk was suddenly split down the middle by a violent, fiery explosion. The sheer force of the blast sent Izuku tumbling backward, landing hard on the scuffed linoleum floor. His ears rang, and the sharp scent of smoke filled his nose.

Looming over him was Bakugo, his ruby-red eyes narrowed into vicious slits, smoke rising from his right fist.

"Listen up, Deku," Bakugo snarled, using the childhood insult that meant 'useless'. "You're even worse than the rest of these rejects. You're completely Quirkless. You really think you can stand in the same ring as me?"

"No! Wait, Kacchan, it's not like that!" Izuku scrambled backward like a frightened crab, his hands raised in surrender. "I'm not trying to compete with you, I swear! It's just... it's been my dream since I was little. And... there's no harm in trying, right?"

"Try? Try what? The entrance exam?" Bakugo scoffed, leaning in so close Izuku could feel the heat radiating from him. "You'll die in the exams. You're a Quirkless wannabe who belongs at the bottom of the barrel. Know your place."

The teacher merely sighed, telling them to sit down, completely ignoring the fact that a student had just been blown out of his chair. Izuku pulled himself up, righting his fractured desk, his cheeks burning with profound humiliation. He kept his eyes glued to the wood grain of his desk for the rest of the day.

When the final bell rang, Izuku lingered. He took his time packing his bag, waiting for the classroom to empty. He pulled out a burnt-edged, spiral-bound notebook. Across the cover, written in messy handwriting, were the words: Hero Analysis for the Future, Vol. 13. He smiled softly, thumbing through his intricate sketches and notes on newly debuted heroes. It was his anchor. His proof that he was paying attention, that he was preparing. 

Suddenly, a hand snatched the notebook away.

"We ain't done here, Deku," Bakugo said, standing with two of his lackeys. 

"What's that? His diary?" one of the lackeys laughed.

"Give it back, Kacchan," Izuku pleaded, reaching for it. 

Bakugo didn't even look at him. He simply clamped his hands around the notebook. With a loud pop, an explosion engulfed the book. The pages blackened and curled, the plastic spiral melting instantly. 

Izuku watched in horror as his hard work was reduced to a smoldering, ash-covered brick. 

"What did you do?!" Izuku cried out.

Bakugo casually tossed the ruined notebook out the open window. It fluttered down toward the school courtyard. "Most top-tier heroes have stories about their school days. Stories about how they came from nothing, how they were the only ones from their crappy middle schools to make it to U.A. I want to be the only one from this trash heap to get in. So, don't apply to U.A., nerd."

Bakugo turned, walking toward the door. He paused, looking over his shoulder with a dark, mocking grin. 

"If you want a Quirk so badly, there might be another way. Just pray that you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building."

The words hit Izuku like a physical blow. He froze, his breathing shallow. He told me to kill myself. He wanted to scream. He wanted to ball up his fists, to throw a punch, to fight back. But his body wouldn't move. It never did. 

Izuku stood in the empty classroom for a long time, the silence pressing down on him. 

Eventually, he made his way outside. He found his notebook floating in a small koi pond, the fish nibbling at the burnt edges of the pages. He fished it out, brushing off the water and ash. 

"Stupid fish," he muttered, his voice breaking. "It's not fish food. It's my notebook."

He held the sodden, ruined book against his chest and began the long walk home. 

Izuku took the underpass beneath the bridge, a shortcut to his apartment complex. The concrete tunnel was cool and damp, echoing with the sound of his footsteps. He dragged his feet, his mind a swirling vortex of doubt and despair. 

Maybe Kacchan is right, he thought, staring at his red sneakers. Maybe it is time to give up. I'm just hurting myself at this point. I'll never be a hero. I don't have the power. I don't have anything.

He looked up, preparing to walk out into the afternoon sunlight. 

He didn't see the shadow detach itself from the sewer grate behind him. 

A gurgling, wet sound echoed through the tunnel. Izuku turned, his green eyes widening in pure terror. Rising from the manhole cover was a towering mass of putrid, olive-green sludge. It had no shape, no solid form, just a shifting mass of muck with two manic, yellow eyes and a mouth full of jagged, broken teeth floating within the fluid.

"A medium-sized invisibility cloak," the Sludge Villain gurgled, its voice wet and guttural. "Perfect."

Before Izuku could run, before his brain could even send the signal to his legs, the sludge surged forward. It slammed into him like a tidal wave of raw sewage, knocking him onto his back. 

"Don't worry," the villain whispered as the sludge wrapped tightly around Izuku's arms and legs, pinning him to the concrete. "I'm just going to take over your body. It'll only hurt for about 45 seconds. Then, it'll all be over."

The sludge forced its way into Izuku's mouth and up his nose. 

Izuku choked, a muffled cry dying in his throat. The taste was horrific—like rotting garbage, stagnant water, and metallic blood. He couldn't breathe. His lungs screamed for oxygen. He clawed frantically at the sludge covering his face, his fingernails tearing at the muck, but his hands slipped right through it. There was nothing to grab. Nothing to fight. 

I can't breathe... I'm dying... 

His vision began to darken at the edges. Black spots danced across his eyes. The villain's laughter sounded far away, distorted by the fluid filling Izuku's ears.

Is this it? Is this how it ends? Somebody... anybody... please... help.

Suddenly, the manhole cover at the end of the tunnel was blown completely off its hinges with a resounding CLANG. 

Heavy, purposeful footsteps echoed through the tunnel. 

"Fear not, young man," a voice boomed, deep and resonant, vibrating with absolute authority. 

Through his fading, tear-filled vision, Izuku saw a massive silhouette step into the light. A towering man with impossible muscles, wearing a white t-shirt and cargo pants. Two tufts of blond hair stood up like rabbit ears on his head. 

"Because I am here!"

The Sludge Villain shrieked, throwing a tendril of muck at the newcomer. 

The man didn't flinch. He simply pulled back his right arm. The air itself seemed to compress around his fist. 

"TEXAS... SMASH!"

He threw a punch into the empty air. The sheer wind pressure generated by the strike was like a localized hurricane. The wind blasted through the tunnel, ripping the sludge away from Izuku's body, tearing the villain apart into thousands of harmless, splattering droplets. 

Izuku gasped, taking in a massive, ragged breath of air. He coughed violently, his body trembling as the dark spots consumed his vision completely. The last thing he saw was the bright, shining smile of his idol before he slipped into unconsciousness. 

"Hey! Wake up! Thought we lost you there!"

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Izuku jolted awake, his eyes snapping open. He was lying on the concrete, the bright afternoon sun blinding him. He sat up, coughing up a final bit of foul-tasting water. 

Standing over him, lightly slapping his cheek, was the symbol of peace. All Might. 

Izuku scrambled backward, his jaw dropping so hard it practically hit the pavement. "A-A-All Might?! You're real! You're actually here!"

"Glad to see you're okay, young man!" All Might boomed, giving a thumbs-up. He held up a pair of empty soda bottles; inside, the Sludge Villain was contained, angrily swirling around the plastic. "I apologize for getting you caught up in my justice-bringing! I usually don't make mistakes like this, but I was fired up in a new city! Now, I must bring this villain to the police!"

Izuku's mind raced. He had so many questions. He needed an autograph. He needed... he looked around frantically and spotted his burnt notebook on the ground. He grabbed it, flipping it open. 

There, taking up two entire pages, was a massive, sweeping autograph. 

"He already signed it!" Izuku shrieked, bowing repeatedly. "Thank you! Thank you! This will be a family heirloom!"

"Well, I must be off!" All Might said, stretching his powerful legs. "A pro hero's work is never done!"

"Wait!" Izuku called out, his heart hammering against his ribs. I have to ask him. He's the only one who can tell me the truth. "I have a question!"

"No time!" All Might yelled. He leaped into the air, the concrete shattering beneath his boots. 

Without thinking, driven by a decade of desperate, unanswered questions, Izuku lunged forward. He grabbed onto All Might's pant leg just as the hero took off. 

The wind hit Izuku like a physical wall. Suddenly, he was hundreds of feet in the air, the city of Musutafu shrinking below him into a grid of toy buildings and tiny cars. 

"Hey! Hey! What are you doing?!" All Might yelled, looking down in shock. "Let go! Your fanaticism is too much!"

"If I let go now, I'll die!" Izuku screamed, his eyes tearing up from the wind pressure, his arms wrapped around the hero's massive leg in a death grip. 

"Good point! Close your eyes and hold your breath!"

A few moments later, they landed onto the roof of a tall office building with a heavy thud. Izuku collapsed onto the hard roof, gasping for air, his whole body shaking.

"That... was terrifying," Izuku breathed.

"Good grief," All Might sighed, wiping a hand across his forehead. "If you talk to the people downstairs, they can help you out. I really must be going."

"Wait!" Izuku scrambled to his feet, holding his hand out. "Just one question! Please!"

All Might paused, his back turned to the boy. "I have no time."

"Can... can someone without a Quirk be a hero?!" Izuku shouted, the words tearing from his throat. The question he had held onto for ten years finally burst forth. 

All Might stopped.

"People think I don't have a chance," Izuku continued, his voice trembling, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "That I'm just a Quirkless nobody. But I want to save people. I want to save them with a fearless smile, just like you! I want to be a great hero..."

He looked up, hoping to see the shining smile of his idol, hoping to hear the words that would validate his entire existence. 

Instead, a thick cloud of steam suddenly erupted from All Might's body. 

Izuku coughed, waving the steam away. When the smoke cleared, the towering, muscular symbol of peace was gone. In his place stood a gaunt, skeletal man with sunken eyes, sharp cheekbones, and clothes that hung off his frail frame like a scarecrow. 

Izuku screamed. "An imposter?! What happened?! You deflated!"

"I am All Might," the skeletal man said, a stream of blood suddenly leaking from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away casually. "You know how guys at the pool suck in their gut to look buff? It's kind of like that."

Izuku felt the world tilt on its axis. His idol, the invincible god of heroes, was frail. 

With a heavy sigh, Toshinori Yagi unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his left side. Izuku gasped. A massive, horrific scar covered the entire side of his chest, the skin completely caved in, a twisted mess of purple and pink scar tissue.

"I got this in a fight five years ago," Toshinori said quietly, his voice lacking the booming resonance it had before. "My respiratory system was nearly destroyed. I lost my whole stomach. I've had countless surgeries, but I can only do hero work for about three hours a day now. The rest of the time, I look like this."

"Five years ago?" Izuku whispered. "Was that the fight with Toxic Chainsaw?"

"You know your stuff," Toshinori chuckled softly. "But no, that punk couldn't bring me down. I asked that this fight be kept from the public. A Symbol of Peace who saves people with a smile must never be daunted. I smile to hide the fear inside. I smile to trick the fear."

He turned to fully face Izuku, his sunken blue eyes locking onto the boy's green ones. The air on the roof suddenly felt very cold. 

"Pros are always risking their lives," Toshinori said, his voice dropping into a solemn, serious register. "Some villains simply can't be beaten without power. Can you be a hero without a Quirk? I honestly don't think so."

The words struck Izuku like a physical bullet. He felt the breath leave his lungs. It was the doctor's office all over again. 

"Oh," Izuku whispered, his shoulders slumping. 

"If you want to help people, you can become a police officer," Toshinori said, walking over to the rooftop access door. "They get mocked because the heroes capture the villains, but it's a fine profession. It's not bad to dream, young man. But you also have to consider what's realistic."

The heavy metal door slammed shut, echoing with a finality that shattered Izuku's world into a million irreparable pieces. 

Izuku stood alone on the rooftop for a long time. The wind howled around him, chilling him to the bone. The tears didn't come. He just felt hollow. Empty. 

He didn't know how long he stood there before he finally dragged himself toward the stairs. His legs felt like lead. He walked down the flights of stairs mechanically, his mind completely blank. 

Even All Might said it. It's over. The dream is over.

As he walked down the street, shuffling his feet, the sound of a massive explosion shook the ground beneath him. 

Izuku blinked, looking up. Plumes of black smoke were rising into the sky a few blocks away. The acrid smell of burning buildings reached his nose. 

A villain attack? he thought. Out of habit, he took a step toward the smoke. Then, he stopped. 

What's the point? I can't do anything. I'm just a spectator. A useless, Quirkless spectator.

Despite his thoughts, his feet carried him forward. Muscle memory from years of chasing hero fights propelled him toward the commotion. When he arrived at the shopping district, he found a massive crowd gathered behind a police barricade. 

The entire alleyway was engulfed in roaring flames. The heat was oppressive, baking the skin of the onlookers. Pro heroes were scattered around the perimeter, looking frustrated and helpless. 

Death Arms, a hero with superhuman strength, was trying to hold back the flames but couldn't get close enough. Kamui Woods was hesitating, knowing his wooden body would turn to ash if he stepped into the inferno. Mt. Lady, the giant hero, was stuck; the alleyway was too narrow for her massive size. 

"It's no good!" Death Arms shouted over the roar of the fire. "None of us have the right Quirks to deal with this! We have to wait for someone with a water or ice Quirk!"

"How did this happen?" a bystander murmured.

"The villain took a hostage," another said. "Some middle school kid. The kid has a powerful explosive Quirk, and the villain is using it to set the city on fire."

Izuku pushed his way to the front of the crowd, peering past the police tape. 

In the center of the blazing alleyway was the Sludge Villain. 

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat. The Sludge Villain? But All Might had him! Did he drop him? Did he drop him when I grabbed onto his leg?!

Guilt, cold and sharp, pierced Izuku’s chest. This is my fault.

He looked closer, squinting against the blinding light of the flames. The sludge was wrapped around a teenager in a middle school uniform. The teenager was thrashing wildly, setting off chaotic, undirected explosions that only fueled the inferno. 

Then, the smoke cleared for a fraction of a second, and Izuku saw the hostage's face. 

Spiky ash-blond hair. Fierce red eyes, wide with unadulterated terror. 

It was Katsuki. 

Izuku froze. The world around him dissolved into white noise. He couldn't hear the sirens, the screaming crowd, or the roaring fire. He only saw Katsuki. The boy who had tormented him, the boy who had told him to jump off a roof just hours ago. 

But right now, Katsuki wasn't an arrogant bully. He was just a kid suffocating to death. He was drowning in the same sludge that had nearly killed Izuku. 

And Katsuki was looking right at him. 

Their eyes locked across the sea of fire. In Katsuki’s eyes, Izuku saw a desperate, silent plea for help. 

The pros were waiting. They were standing on the sidelines, doing the math, calculating the risks, and waiting for a better suited hero. 

Izuku didn't think. He didn't calculate. 

Before his brain could process what he was doing, his legs kicked off the pavement. He threw his yellow backpack at the barricade, ducking under the police tape, and sprinted headlong into the inferno. 

"Hey! Kid, get back here! You'll die!" Death Arms roared, reaching out to grab him, but Izuku slipped past. 

The heat was blinding. Ash filled his lungs. 

"Deku?!" Katsuki choked out, his voice muffled by the sludge. 

"What are you doing here?!" the Sludge Villain gurgled, its yellow eyes narrowing. "You're the brat from earlier! Come to die?!"

Izuku kept running. He didn't have a plan. He didn't have a weapon. He didn't have a Quirk. All he had was an overwhelming, instinctual, primal urge to protect. 

Save him. 

That single thought echoed in his mind, echoing so loudly it felt like a physical vibration in his skull. Save him. Save him. SAVE HIM.

As he ran, something bizarre began to happen. 

A profound, searing heat erupted in Izuku's right shoulder. It wasn't the heat of the surrounding fire; it was an internal, boiling heat, like a dormant volcano suddenly violently erupting inside his veins. 

His heart hammered a frantic, irregular rhythm. Thump-thump-thump. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. 

It was a rhythm that felt ancient. Wild. 

He felt a massive, agonizing pressure building in his right arm. The fabric of his black uniform sleeve stretched, the threads groaning. His vision blurred, not from the smoke, but from an overwhelming sensory overload. Suddenly, he could hear the individual crackles of the flames. He could smell the exact chemical composition of Katsuki's sweat. 

What... what's happening to me?! 

The pain in his arm peaked, a blinding flash of agony as his cellular structure rapidly, violently rewrote itself. 

With a deafening sound—like the tearing of thick canvas amplified a hundred times—his uniform sleeve completely exploded. 

A blinding, neon pink light engulfed Izuku's right side. 

The crowd gasped. The heroes froze. Even the Sludge Villain recoiled in shock. 

Emerging from the pink light was not the skinny, frail arm of a fourteen-year-old boy. 

It was a massive, colossal limb, the size of a small car. It was covered in thick, vibrant, neon-pink fur, dotted with dark magenta, circular rosettes. The forearm was corded with muscles so thick they looked like steel cables beneath the fur. The hand was a gigantic, padded feline paw, ending in four thick, articulated fingers and an opposable thumb. 

From the fingertips, razor-sharp, obsidian-black claws extended, gleaming in the firelight. 

It was the arm of an apex predator. A mega beast. 

Izuku didn't stop to look at it. He couldn't. His consciousness was suddenly riding shotgun to a fierce, primal instinct. The roaring in his head drowned out his thoughts. 

He didn't throw a punch like a human. He swung the massive paw like a wildcat swatting its prey. 

The colossal pink limb cleaved through the air. The sheer mass and velocity of the giant paw displaced the air in the alleyway, creating a localized shockwave. 

BAM!

The giant, furry paw slammed into the Sludge Villain. 

The impact was devastating. The wind pressure from the swing acted like a bomb, instantly blowing out the fires in the immediate vicinity. The Sludge Villain didn't even have time to scream. The immense physical force splattered the villain's liquid body across the brick walls of the alleyway in a thousand different directions, completely freeing Katsuki. 

Katsuki hit the ground, coughing violently, gasping for air. 

Izuku stood there, panting heavily. His right shoulder was screaming in pain, supporting a limb that weighed more than his entire body. He looked down at the giant pink paw resting on the cracked pavement. He twitched a finger, and a massive, pink, furry digit the size of a fire hydrant moved in perfect synchronization. 

Is... is this... me?

He looked up. Katsuki was staring at him, his red eyes wide with a mixture of shock, confusion, and horror. 

The pro heroes were dead silent, their jaws dropped as they stared at the boy with the giant, neon-pink monster arm. 

"What... what the hell is that?" Death Arms whispered. 

Izuku tried to speak, to explain, but his mouth wouldn't work. The adrenaline that had spiked his heart rate began to crash. 

Growing a limb of that magnitude, mutating bone, muscle, and fur in a fraction of a second, required an astronomical amount of biological energy. In three seconds, Izuku's body had burned through nearly all of its caloric reserves. 

The pink light flared again, and the giant paw rapidly shrank, the fur retracting, the muscle deflating, until it was just his normal, skinny, bare right arm once more. 

A wave of profound, bone-deep exhaustion hit him like a freight train. His vision tunneled into blackness. His legs gave out. 

As he pitched forward, collapsing onto the pavement next to the boy he had just saved, the last thing Izuku heard was the frantic shouts of the heroes rushing forward. 

Beep... beep... beep...

The rhythmic, monotonous sound of a heart monitor was the first thing to register in Izuku's mind. 

He groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. The room was blindingly white. The sterile smell of antiseptic stung his nose. His whole body felt like it had been run over by a steamroller, and his right shoulder throbbed with a dull, echoing ache. 

"Izuku!" 

A weight crashed onto his chest. He blinked, his vision coming into focus to see his mother, Inko, sobbing hysterically into his hospital gown. 

"Mom...?" he croaked, his throat dry as sandpaper. 

"Oh, my baby! My poor baby!" Inko wailed, tears streaming down her face like twin waterfalls. "The hospital called... they said you were in a villain attack... and then... and then..."

She pulled back, looking at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, framing his face with her hands. "Izuku... the doctors... they said you have a Quirk!"

Izuku froze. The memories of the alleyway came rushing back. The fire. Katsuki. The heat in his shoulder. The giant, pink, furry paw. 

"I... I do?" he whispered. 

At the foot of the bed stood a doctor—a different one from ten years ago. He was holding a clipboard, looking thoroughly baffled. 

"It's the most extraordinary case I've ever seen in my twenty years of medicine," the doctor said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Midoriya, it appears you possess a gigantification and mutation class Quirk. An incredibly powerful one, at that."

"But... the extra toe joint..." Izuku stammered, sitting up slightly. "I was diagnosed as Quirkless."

"Yes, well, the toe joint theory is outdated," the doctor explained. "It's a strong indicator, but not a universal law. Your DNA contains a latent, highly complex mutation. We believe it remained dormant simply because your body lacked the caloric capacity and physical durability to manifest it safely. It's a survival mechanism. If you had manifested that appendage when you were four, your body would have literally torn itself apart from the sheer biological strain."

"So... why now?" Izuku asked, looking at his normal, skinny right arm. 

"Extreme stress," the doctor theorized. "A life-or-death situation triggered an adrenaline spike so massive it overrode your body's safety limiters. Your cells activated to protect you, drawing on every ounce of your body's energy reserves to trigger the mutation. That's why you passed out. You suffered acute hypoglycemia and extreme muscular fatigue. You'll need to eat about five times your normal caloric intake for the next few days just to recover."

The doctor smiled kindly. "Congratulations, young man. You're a late bloomer, but you are most definitely not Quirkless."

Izuku stared at his hands. He slowly curled his right hand into a fist. 

I have a Quirk. 

The words echoed in his mind, sweet and intoxicating. He wasn't useless. He wasn't broken. He had power. A strange, pink, furry power, but power nonetheless. 

I can be a hero.

Tears pricked his eyes, spilling over his cheeks as he pulled his mother into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder. For the first time in ten years, he cried tears of joy. 

Outside the hospital room, leaning against the sterile white wall of the corridor, stood a tall, gaunt man in an oversized yellow suit. 

Toshinori Yagi listened to the quiet sobs of happiness coming from the room. He looked down at his own frail hands, a small, uncharacteristic smile tugging at the corners of his sunken lips. 

He had seen the news broadcast. He had seen the giant, pink appendage shatter the Sludge Villain with a single strike. The media was already dubbing it a miracle. 

But Toshinori knew the truth. He had been there in the crowd, watching helplessly as the heroes stood paralyzed by fear and circumstance. He had watched as the boy he had crushed on a rooftop—a boy he believed was utterly powerless—had done what none of the professionals dared to do. 

The boy hadn't known his Quirk was going to activate. When Izuku Midoriya ran into that fire, he genuinely believed he was Quirkless. He had charged into an inferno to save a boy who hated him, armed with nothing but his own two frail legs and a desperate, heroic heart. 

His body moved before he even had a chance to think, Toshinori mused. The true mark of a hero.

The power was a shock, yes. A bizarre, unpredictable variable. But the power wasn't what had moved Toshinori. 

It was the spirit beneath it. 

Toshinori pushed himself off the wall, pulling his coat tighter around his frail frame. He had a lot to think about. He had found a vessel worthy of One For All—a boy with the heart of a true hero. 

But now, it seemed, the boy already had a power of his own. A power that was wild, unrefined, and incredibly dangerous if not trained properly. A mega beast slumbering within a fragile shell. 

"Izuku Midoriya," Toshinori whispered into the empty hallway. "Let's see what kind of hero you become."

The human body is an incredible machine, constantly adapting to its environment. But even the most brilliant quirkologists in Japan struggled to explain the biological anomaly that was Izuku Midoriya. 

"Technically speaking, it’s a miracle you didn’t spontaneously combust," Dr. Tsubasa muttered, staring at a wall of brightly lit X-rays in the hospital's specialized Quirk assessment wing. 

Izuku sat on the edge of the examination table, his legs dangling, a heavy bandage wrapped around his right shoulder. Inko sat beside him, nervously twisting the fabric of her skirt. 

"Combust?" Inko squeaked, her face draining of color. 

"A figure of speech, Mrs. Midoriya," the doctor amended quickly, turning around with a thick manila folder. "But only slightly. Quirks are physical abilities. They draw on the user's stamina, calories, and cellular energy. Fire-breathers need high internal body temperatures; speedsters need accelerated metabolisms."

The doctor tapped a pen against a scan of Izuku’s right arm. "When Izuku manifested that... appendage... the sheer mass and density of the bone, muscle, and fur required a catastrophic amount of biological fuel. We estimate that in those three seconds, his body burned through roughly ten thousand calories."

Izuku’s jaw dropped. "T-ten thousand? In three seconds?"

"Precisely. And that is exactly why your Quirk remained dormant for fourteen years," the doctor explained, his eyes gleaming with academic fascination. "Your body possesses a subconscious survival limiter. When you were four, your physical frame was too fragile. Had you attempted to mutate a limb of that size back then, your cardiovascular system would have failed instantly. Your body locked the Quirk away to keep you alive. It classified the genetic code as an anomaly and buried it."

"So... what changed?" Izuku asked, looking down at his currently normal, scrawny hands. 

"A perfect storm of adrenaline, severe emotional distress, and sheer willpower," the doctor smiled. "You bypassed the limiter. You forced the door open. But be warned, Midoriya: your body is still dangerously unequipped to handle this Quirk. Your current muscle mass and skeletal density are essentially those of a standard, Quirkless teenager. If you try to summon that giant arm again without proper physical conditioning, you risk permanent muscle tearing, shattered joints, or falling into a localized comatose state from energy depletion."

The doctor handed Inko a massive stack of dietary pamphlets. "He needs to eat. A lot. High protein, high fat. And he needs to start physically training his core and back to support the asymmetrical weight of the mutation. The Quirk registry office has temporarily classified it as an Anomalous Gigantification/Mutation type. We'll need you to fill out the naming paperwork when you figure out exactly what it is you turn into."

Izuku nodded, his mind spinning. A mutation. I have a mutation. 

As they walked out of the hospital into the cool evening air, Izuku looked up at the stars. The world felt entirely different. The oppressive, invisible ceiling that had hung over his head for a decade was gone. The sky was the limit. 

But as he flexed his right hand, a new, daunting realization settled in his stomach. The door to his dream was finally unlocked, but the handle was red-hot, and he had no idea how to turn it.

Two days later, Izuku stood in the center of his bedroom, staring intently into his full-length mirror. 

His room was a shrine to heroics, plastered end-to-end with All Might posters, action figures, and limited-edition merchandise. The Symbol of Peace smiled down at him from every angle, silently encouraging him. 

Izuku took a deep breath, planting his feet shoulder-width apart. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

Okay. Think about the alleyway. Think about the heat. Think about protecting Kacchan. 

He clenched his right fist, straining his arm. He tried to mentally reach inward, searching for that bizarre, volcanic warmth he had felt in his shoulder. He gritted his teeth, his face turning red with effort. He pushed and pushed, trying to force his cells to rewrite themselves. 

Come on... come on! 

Suddenly, a strange sensation prickled at the base of his spine. It wasn't the searing heat from the alley; it was an intense, sudden itch, followed by a sensation of localized pressure. At the same time, the cartilage in his head felt like it was shifting—not painfully, but with a bizarre, stretching pop. 

Poof. 

Rip.

Izuku gasped, his eyes flying open as he stumbled forward. He hadn't grown a giant arm. His arms were exactly the same. 

But his reflection in the mirror made him freeze. 

Protruding from the messy mop of his dark green hair were two large, rounded, fuzzy animal ears. They were a vibrant, shocking shade of neon pink, dotted with darker magenta spots. They twitched independently, swiveling like radar dishes. 

"W-what?" Izuku stammered, bringing his hands up to touch them. They were incredibly soft, but thick with muscle at the base. As his fingers brushed the fur, the ear flicked away automatically, reacting to the stimulus. 

Then, he felt a strange, heavy dragging sensation behind his knees. He looked down. 

Protruding from a fresh tear in the seat of his sweatpants was a thick, muscular tail. It was nearly three feet long, covered in the same neon-pink and magenta-spotted fur, ending in a slightly darker, rounded tip. It was swaying slowly back and forth behind him, brushing against the carpet. 

"A... a tail?" Izuku whispered. He tried to move it. To his absolute astonishment, the tail curled upward, responding to his thoughts just as easily as an arm or a leg. It felt incredibly dense, almost like a solid muscle wrapped in velvet. 

Suddenly, a massive wave of sensory information assaulted him. 

With the pink ears fully manifested, the world became deafeningly loud. He could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen down the hall. He could hear the scratching of a pigeon's claws on the roof three stories up. He could hear the blood rushing through his own veins, a steady, thumping rhythm. 

"Izuku? Sweetie, I brought you some apple slices!" 

His mother's voice, usually soft, sounded like a megaphone directly next to his eardrum. Izuku winced, his pink ears instinctively flattening tight against his skull to muffle the noise. 

The bedroom door creaked open. Inko stepped in holding a small tray. She looked up, her eyes locking onto her son. 

The tray slipped from her fingers. The plate shattered against the floorboards with an agonizingly loud CRASH. 

"Gah!" Izuku yelped, covering his normal, human ears with his hands, while his pink ears pressed down even harder. 

"Izuku!" Inko gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "You... you have animal parts!"

"I couldn't get the arm to come out!" Izuku panicked, his tail puffing up to twice its normal size, the pink fur standing on end like a startled cat's. "I tried to force it, and this happened! And everything is so loud!"

Inko hurried over, carefully avoiding the broken plate. She reached out, her maternal instincts overriding her shock, and gently stroked the top of one of the pink ears. 

Instantly, a deep, rumbling sound vibrated in Izuku's chest. It sounded suspiciously like a purr. 

Izuku clamped a hand over his mouth, his face turning the color of a tomato. "M-mom! Don't pet them! This is so embarrassing!" 

"Oh, but they're so soft!" Inko marveled, though her eyes were filled with worry. "Can you put them away? Your doctor said you need to be careful with your energy."

Izuku took a deep breath. He tried to focus on the feeling of shrinking, of pulling the energy back into his core. It was harder than pushing it out. It felt like trying to un-flex a cramped muscle. After a few seconds of intense concentration, the pink ears folded inward and vanished, leaving only his messy green hair. A second later, the heavy tail dissolved into a wisp of pink light, leaving him with a drafty hole in his sweatpants. 

The sudden silence of the room was a massive relief. 

Izuku slumped onto his bed, exhausted. He had managed to produce a tail and ears, but not the giant arm that had saved Katsuki. The mega beast was still locked away, refusing to come out unless commanded by pure instinct. 

"A jaguar," Izuku muttered, grabbing a notebook and a pencil. He began sketching the spots he had seen on his tail and the shape of his ears. "It's not just gigantification. The spot pattern... the rounded ears... it's a Panthera onca. A jaguar. A giant, pink jaguar."

It made no sense. Quirks rarely did. But as he looked at his drawing, a spark of fierce determination ignited in his chest. 

Whatever it is, it's mine. And I'm going to master it.

Returning to Aldera Junior High on Monday was an exercise in pure psychological torture. 

The news had spread. While the media hadn't released his name, relying on blurry cell phone footage of a "heroic middle schooler with a giant pink arm," the students at Aldera weren't blind. They had seen Izuku run into the fire. They had seen Katsuki's rescue. 

When Izuku walked through the front gates, the whispers started. 

"Is that him? The Quirkless kid?"

"I heard he was faking it. He's got a monster Quirk."

"Why would he pretend to be Quirkless? That's so creepy."

Izuku kept his head down, clutching the straps of his yellow backpack so tightly his knuckles ached. He hurried to his classroom, hoping to just slide into his desk and disappear. 

But as he slid the classroom door open, he was met with a wall of aggressive, crackling heat. 

Katsuki Bakugo was leaning against the blackboard, his arms crossed, his red eyes boring a hole straight through Izuku. The rest of the classroom was dead silent. 

"Deku," Bakugo growled, his voice dangerously low. 

Izuku swallowed hard. "K-Kacchan. Good morning."

Bakugo pushed off the blackboard, closing the distance between them in three long strides. He grabbed Izuku by the collar of his uniform, slamming him backward into the sliding door. Sparks popped violently in Bakugo's free hand, singeing the air near Izuku's nose. 

"You think you're clever, huh?" Bakugo snarled, his face inches from Izuku's. "You think you're real funny, pretending to be a useless, Quirkless pebble for ten years, just so you could show me up when it counted?!"

"N-no! Kacchan, I swear, I didn't know!" Izuku pleaded, his hands coming up to grip Bakugo's wrists. 

"Liar!" Bakugo roared, a small explosion going off next to Izuku's ear, making him flinch. "Nobody just wakes up with a giant, glowing monster arm! You were hiding it! You were looking down on me this whole time, thinking you were better than me!"

"I wasn't!" Izuku shouted back, a sudden surge of frustration breaking through his fear. Without meaning to, his emotions spiked. 

Pop. 

From the top of Izuku's head, the two neon-pink, spotted jaguar ears sprouted. 

The entire class gasped. Bakugo blinked, his aggressive momentum momentarily derailed by the sheer absurdity of the fluffy pink appendages that had just materialized on the nerd's head. 

With the ears out, Izuku's auditory perception instantly magnified. He could hear the gasps of his classmates. But more importantly, he could hear Bakugo. 

Beneath the tough exterior, beneath the aggressive posturing and the crackling explosions, Izuku's new animal instincts picked up something entirely unexpected. He heard Bakugo's heartbeat. It was fast. Frantic. 

Bakugo wasn't just angry. He was intimidated. 

The realization hit Izuku like a bucket of cold water. For his entire life, Katsuki Bakugo had been an insurmountable mountain of confidence. But the giant pink arm had shaken his worldview. Bakugo’s entire sense of superiority was built on his Quirk being the best. Izuku’s sudden, overwhelming display of power threatened that foundation. 

Bakugo scowled, recovering from his shock. "What the hell are those? Are you mocking me?!" 

He raised his hand, aiming a larger explosion directly at Izuku's chest. 

But Izuku didn't cower. Driven by a newfound, primal confidence, his pink ears flattened defensively. In a blur of motion, the thick, muscular pink tail erupted from the base of his spine. Before Bakugo could fire the explosion, the tail whipped around, wrapping tightly around Bakugo's wrist like a furry boa constrictor and pulling his arm forcefully to the side. 

The explosion went off safely into the empty air, scorching a ceiling tile. 

Bakugo’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to yank his arm back, but the pink tail's grip was like iron. The physical strength of the tail alone was easily triple that of a normal human arm. 

Izuku stared at Bakugo, his green eyes surprisingly steady. "I didn't lie to you, Kacchan. It was dormant. I didn't know I had it. But I have it now."

He released his tail's grip, letting it sway heavily behind his legs. He retracted his ears and tail back into his body, leaving Bakugo standing there, massaging his wrist. 

"I'm applying to U.A., Kacchan," Izuku said quietly, stepping around the blonde boy and walking to his desk. "I'm not going to be a pebble in your path anymore."

The classroom remained silent for the rest of the homeroom period. Bakugo didn't say another word, but the glare he aimed at the back of Izuku's head promised absolute war. 

Despite his small victory in the classroom, by the time school ended, the reality of his situation had crashed back down upon him. 

He couldn't summon the arm. The tail and ears were useful, perhaps, for reconnaissance or minor physical altercations, but they weren't going to defeat a giant villain. They wouldn't help him pass the U.A. practical exams, which historically involved destroying large, robotic targets. 

He needed the mega beast. But every time he tried to visualize the giant paw, he felt a painful, exhausting blockage in his chest. 

Izuku took the long way home, his feet dragging against the pavement. His path led him past the Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. Or, more accurately, the Dagobah Municipal Trash Dump. Years of illegal dumping had turned the once-beautiful coastline into a towering, stinking labyrinth of broken refrigerators, rusted cars, and rotting tires. 

Izuku stopped at the top of the concrete stairs overlooking the ocean of garbage. The sun was setting, casting long, dark shadows over the wreckage. 

I'm too weak, Izuku thought, leaning against the railing. The doctor was right. My body is a paper cup trying to hold a gallon of water. Ten months until the U.A. entrance exams. How am I supposed to build enough muscle to wield a giant monster arm in ten months? It's impossible.

"A hero's journey is rarely easy, young Midoriya."

Izuku shrieked, spinning around. 

Sitting on the railing mere feet away, wearing a baggy, oversized yellow suit, was the gaunt, skeletal form of Toshinori Yagi. 

"A-All Might?!" Izuku gasped, his eyes wide. "What are you doing here?! Did you follow me?!"

Toshinori coughed into his fist, a small drop of blood escaping his lips. "I prefer the term 'proactively sought you out.' I have a proposal for you."

Izuku's heart leaped into his throat. Was this it? Was the Symbol of Peace going to offer him a place as his sidekick? 

Toshinori stood up, stretching his lanky frame. "I saw what happened with the Sludge Villain. I saw your body move before you even had time to think. And then, I saw the... rather spectacular pink appendage that followed."

Izuku blushed, looking down. "It's an anomaly. A gigantification mutation. But I can't even use it. The doctor said my body is too weak. If I try to force the big arm out, I could rip my own muscles apart. I'm practically useless."

"Useless?" Toshinori raised an eyebrow. "Midoriya, I have been a hero for decades. I have seen countless men and women with spectacular, god-like Quirks freeze in the face of danger. A Quirk is just a tool. The engine of a hero is their heart. And yours? Yours burns brighter than most pros."

Toshinori stepped closer, his blue eyes intense and serious. 

"I originally sought you out because I believed you were Quirkless, and I was going to offer you a way to inherit my own power," Toshinori revealed, dropping a bombshell that made Izuku's brain short-circuit. 

"I-inherit your power?!" Izuku squeaked. 

"Yes. But fate, it seems, has a sense of humor," Toshinori chuckled softly. "You have your own mountain to climb now. A power entirely your own. A wild, untamed beast slumbering inside you. And right now, the cage holding that beast is made of twigs and paper."

Toshinori pointed a bony finger at Izuku's chest. "You don't need my power, Izuku Midoriya. You need my training regimen."

Izuku stared at the number one hero in absolute awe. 

"Your body lacks the physical density, the core strength, and the muscular foundation to support a giant mutation," Toshinori explained, transforming into his massive, muscular All Might form for a brief, awe-inspiring second before deflating in a puff of steam. "So, we are going to rebuild you from the ground up! I will teach you how to become the vessel your Quirk demands!"

Toshinori turned and swept his arm over the sprawling, stinking expanse of Dagobah Beach. 

"Welcome to your new gym," Toshinori grinned. "For the next ten months, you are going to clean this beach. You are going to move every rusted truck, every broken washing machine, and every tire with your bare hands. We are going to pack so much muscle onto your frame that when your mega beast finally wakes up, your body will be ready to roar with it!"

Tears, hot and fast, welled up in Izuku's eyes. The number one hero in the world didn't pity him. He believed in him. 

Izuku wiped his eyes with his sleeve, setting his jaw in a look of fierce determination. "I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes!"

The next ten months were nothing short of absolute, unmitigated hell. 

Toshinori, true to his word, had devised the "Aim to Pass: American Dream Plan," uniquely tailored to Izuku's anomalous mutation. But it wasn't just physical labor; it was a total lifestyle overhaul. 

Month 1 to 3: The Breaking Point

The early mornings were agonizing. Izuku would arrive at the beach at 5:00 AM, the ocean breeze freezing against his skin. His first task was simply trying to drag a waterlogged refrigerator through the thick sand. He couldn't move it an inch. 

"Anchor your legs!" Toshinori would bark from his beach chair, sipping a protein shake. "If you can't move a fridge, how are you going to throw a punch with an arm that weighs half a ton?!"

Izuku’s hands bled. His back ached so deeply he could barely sleep. But the physical pain was secondary to the sheer volume of food he was forced to consume. 

Because of the massive caloric deficit his Quirk threatened to create, Toshinori had him eating upwards of ten thousand calories a day. Mountains of Katsudon, dozens of eggs, entire rotisserie chickens. Izuku felt like a walking garbage disposal. 

But as the third month rolled over, a strange shift occurred. The nausea faded, replaced by an insatiable, primal hunger. His body was recognizing the fuel and rapidly synthesizing it. His shoulders began to broaden. His skinny arms began to cord with dense, wiry muscle. 

He was finally moving the refrigerators. 

Month 4 to 6: Awakening the Senses

As his physical body grew stronger, the dormant jaguar instincts began to bleed into his everyday life, entirely unprompted. 

It started in the classroom. Izuku was taking notes when a fly buzzed past his ear. Without looking up from his paper, his left hand shot out with blinding speed, catching the fly gently between his thumb and forefinger. 

He froze, realizing what he had just done. He hadn't thought about it; his reflexes had simply taken over. 

Then came the vision. One night, while hauling a rusted truck bumper across the beach in the pitch black, Toshinori's flashlight died. 

"Ah, blast it," Toshinori muttered. "We'll have to stop early."

"No, it's okay," Izuku said, staring into the dark. 

His green eyes suddenly flashed, the pupils dilating into wide, feline ovals. A faint, bioluminescent pink ring appeared around his irises. Suddenly, the darkness peeled away. The beach was illuminated in crisp, greyscale detail, every shadow stark and clear. 

"I can see perfectly," Izuku breathed, marveling at his own hands. 

Toshinori watched him, a look of profound pride on his gaunt face. The beast wasn't just a physical mutation; it was enhancing his base human form. Izuku was becoming a predator. 

During these middle months, Izuku also learned to control his partial manifestations. He practiced summoning his ears and tail at will, detaching them from his emotional state. He used the tail as a counterbalance while lifting heavy objects, learning that the thick, prehensile appendage could support nearly his entire body weight. 

He was moving like an acrobat. The clumsy, stuttering Izuku Midoriya was being replaced by a boy with the silent, fluid grace of a wildcat. 

Month 7 to 9: The Mega Arm Returns

It happened in late December. Snow dusted the piles of trash. 

Izuku was attempting to pull a rusted pickup truck out of the sand using a heavy rope slung over his shoulder. He dug his heels in, straining with all his might, but the truck's axles were buried too deep. 

"Use it!" Toshinori shouted over the roaring wind. "Your body is ready! Open the gate, Midoriya!"

Izuku closed his eyes. He didn't search for the heat this time. He searched for the rhythm. The steady, thumping heartbeat of the mega beast inside him. He synchronized his breathing with it. 

Thump... thump... thump.

He let go of the rope with his right hand. He didn't fight the mutation; he welcomed it. 

A blinding flare of pink light illuminated the snowy beach. The tearing sensation in his shoulder returned, but this time, there was no agonizing pain. There was only a profound sense of pressure. 

The colossal, neon-pink, spotted jaguar arm materialized, slamming heavily into the sand. 

"Whoa!" Izuku shouted, the sheer weight of the arm pulling him off balance, dragging his right shoulder down. It felt like someone had strapped a boulder to his collarbone. 

"Don't let it drag you!" Toshinori instructed, stepping forward. "Engage your core! Widen your stance! You are the anchor, Izuku! Dominate the mass!"

Izuku gritted his teeth, his newly developed abdominal muscles screaming as he forced himself to stand upright. He lifted the giant pink arm, the massive bicep flexing. The four-fingered paw, tipped with obsidian claws, hovered in the air. 

He turned toward the buried pickup truck. He swung the giant arm downward, grabbing the rusted front bumper with the pink paw. The metal groaned in protest. 

With a roar of effort, Izuku pulled upward. 

The sand exploded. The truck was ripped from the ground entirely, hoisted into the air by a single, colossal arm. Izuku spun on his heel and tossed the vehicle. It flew thirty feet through the air, crashing onto a pile of cleared junk with a deafening screech of metal. 

Izuku panted, holding the giant arm aloft. He didn't pass out. His vision didn't swim. 

He turned to Toshinori and gave a massive, exhausting smile. 

"Excellent!" Toshinori cheered, clapping his hands. "But a hero needs balance! Tomorrow, we work on the left arm!"

The Final Day: Ten Months Later

The morning of the U.A. Entrance Exam was crisp and clear. The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over Dagobah Municipal Beach. 

Except, it wasn't a trash dump anymore. 

Toshinori Yagi drove his pickup truck to the top of the stairs, stepping out and looking down. His breath hitched in his throat. 

The labyrinth of rusted metal, rotting tires, and broken appliances was completely gone. The white sand stretched out beautifully for miles, kissing the gentle waves of the ocean. The beach had been entirely restored to its former glory. 

And standing at the water's edge, bathed in the morning light, was Izuku Midoriya. 

He was shirtless, facing the ocean. The scrawny, trembling boy who had grabbed onto All Might's leg ten months ago was gone. In his place stood a young man with a physique carved from granite. His shoulders were broad, his back rippled with defined, tightly coiled muscle, and his arms were thick and vascular. 

"Midoriya!" Toshinori called out, walking down the stairs. 

Izuku turned around, wiping sweat from his brow. His green eyes were sharp, filled with a quiet, powerful confidence. 

"All Might," Izuku smiled. "We finished it. Just in time."

"You went above and beyond," Toshinori said, surveying the pristine beach. "You didn't just meet the goal; you completely surpassed it. Look at you. You're a proper vessel now."

Izuku looked down at his calloused hands. "I feel different. I feel... grounded."

"Let's see it, then," Toshinori challenged, a proud smirk on his face. "Show me what ten months of hell has bought you. Show me the beast."

Izuku nodded. He rolled his shoulders, taking a deep breath of the salty ocean air. He closed his eyes, sinking into a low, athletic crouch. 

He didn't need to force it anymore. The gate was wide open. 

Sync the rhythm. 

A brilliant, dual-flash of neon pink light erupted from both of his shoulders simultaneously. The air around him crackled with displaced energy. 

When the light faded, Toshinori couldn't help but gasp. 

Izuku stood in the sand, but he was completely dwarfed by his own Quirk. Replacing both of his human arms from the shoulder down were two colossal, muscular, neon-pink jaguar forelegs. The giant paws rested on the sand, easily the size of small boulders. His pink, spotted ears stood tall on his head, and his thick tail whipped behind him, kicking up sand. 

The sheer asymmetry of it was breathtaking. A human torso, anchored by two limbs belonging to a colossal, mythical predator. 

Izuku didn't struggle under the weight. His enhanced core held the massive limbs perfectly. He looked up at Toshinori, his green eyes flashing with a bioluminescent pink ring. 

"Watch this," Izuku grinned, his voice carrying a slight, guttural rumble. 

He slammed both giant pink paws into the sand, compressing the massive muscles in the mega beast's forearms. Using them like giant, fleshy springs, Izuku launched himself. 

BOOM.

The sand beneath him cratered perfectly from the sheer kinetic force. Izuku rocketed backward into the sky, soaring fifty feet above the beach. He hung in the air for a majestic second, the morning sun silhouetting his bizarre, magnificent form, his giant pink arms spread wide. 

He came down gracefully, using the giant paws to absorb the impact, landing with barely a sound. 

He stood up, the giant arms rapidly shrinking and retracting back into his human form, the pink light fading away. He wasn't panting. He wasn't dizzy. 

Toshinori walked up to the boy, placing a heavy, warm hand on his shoulder. 

"You're ready, Izuku," Toshinori said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You are going to U.A. High. And you are going to show the world exactly who the Pink Wonderbeast is."

Izuku looked at his right hand, closing it into a firm fist. He thought of Bakugo. He thought of the mocking laughter. He thought of the decade he had spent believing he was nothing. 

"I'm ready," Izuku said, his eyes turning toward the distant skyline of the city. "Let's go take this exam."

U.A. High School did not look like a school. It looked like a fortress built for gods. 

The main building was a towering monolith of glass and steel shaped like a massive ‘H’, glinting fiercely in the crisp morning sun. The surrounding walls were high, thick, and imposing, serving as a very literal barrier between normal society and the realm of heroes. 

Izuku Midoriya stood at the bottom of the long, paved walkway leading to the front gates, his breath pluming in the cool air. He wore his black Aldera Junior High uniform, but it didn't fit him the way it had ten months ago. The fabric stretched tight across his newly broadened shoulders and chest. The sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, revealed forearms corded with dense, hard-won muscle. He was no longer the frail, trembling boy who had cried in a doctor's office. 

I'm here, Izuku thought, his heart thumping a steady, powerful rhythm against his ribs. Ten months of hell. Dagobah Beach is clean. My body is ready. I can do this. 

He took a step forward, his eyes locked on the towering entrance. He was so focused, so incredibly immersed in the sheer gravity of the moment, that he completely failed to notice the uneven paving stone beneath his left sneaker. 

His toe caught the edge. His center of gravity pitched forward. 

Oh no, Izuku’s brain registered with a spike of panic. Ten months of intense physical training, and I'm going to faceplant and break my nose before I even take the exam!

He instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the harsh impact of the concrete. But the impact never came. 

Instead, he felt a strange, weightless sensation. He opened one eye, then the other. He was hovering horizontally in mid-air, a mere two inches above the pavement. His arms and legs flailed uselessly as if he were suspended in water. 

"Are you okay?" 

Izuku twisted his head. Standing next to him was a girl with a round, cheerful face, large brown eyes, and short auburn hair that bobbed slightly in the breeze. She had her fingers pressed together, a soft pink glow emanating from her fingertips. 

"It's my Quirk," she smiled brightly, gently tapping her fingers together. "Sorry for using it on you without asking, but it would be bad luck if you fell right before the exam, right?" 

Izuku suddenly dropped, his sneakers hitting the pavement with a soft thud. He stumbled, his face instantly erupting into a brilliant, glowing red. 

"I... uh... y-yeah! I mean, no! I mean, thank you!" Izuku stammered, waving his hands frantically. The cool, confident aura of the physically trained powerhouse vanished in an instant, replaced by the socially inept fourteen-year-old who had never spoken to a girl outside of his mother. 

"I'm super nervous, aren't you?" the girl continued, oblivious to his internal panic. "But let's do our best! See ya inside!" 

With a cheerful wave, she jogged up the walkway, leaving Izuku standing frozen like a statue. 

I just talked to a girl! his inner monologue screamed. He reached up, lightly touching his hair. He could feel the latent energy of his Quirk humming beneath his skin, the pink ears threatening to pop out from the sheer spike in his emotional state. He took a deep breath, forcing the energy back down. Keep it together, Midoriya. Focus. You're here to be a hero.

The orientation auditorium was massive, packed with thousands of hopeful examinees. Izuku sat near the middle, perfectly upright, a notebook resting on his lap. To his immediate right sat Katsuki Bakugo. 

Bakugo hadn't spoken a single word to Izuku since the incident in the classroom months ago. He just sat there, arms crossed, exuding an aura of hostile, murderous silence. He occasionally side-eyed Izuku's new physique, his jaw clenching so hard it looked painful. 

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight snapped onto the stage. 

"WHAT'S UP, U.A. CANDIDATES?!" 

The Voice Hero, Present Mic, struck a dynamic pose, his blond hair defying gravity. "LET ME HEAR YOU SAY YEAHHHH!" 

Silence echoed through the cavernous room. 

"KEEPING IT MELLOW, I LIKE IT!" Mic recovered flawlessly. 

Izuku, however, was in sudden agony. The sheer volume of Present Mic's amplified voice sent a shockwave of sound pressure directly into his skull. His Quirk, highly attuned to sensory input, reacted instinctively. 

Poof. 

Beneath the wild mop of his green hair, his neon-pink, spotted jaguar ears materialized, flattening tightly against his scalp to protect his eardrums. Izuku gasped, his hands flying up to clamp down over his hair, praying no one had seen the flash of pink. 

"As it says in the application materials, today you listeners will be conducting ten-minute mock urban battles!" Present Mic explained, a massive screen behind him illuminating with a map of various battle centers. "You will be fighting three types of faux villains, worth one, two, or three points! Use your Quirks to disable these robots and rack up that high score!" 

"Excuse me! I have a question!" 

A tall boy with rectangular glasses and a severe haircut stood up abruptly in the front row, his arm raised straight into the air like a flagpole. A spotlight hit him. 

"On the printout, there are four types of villains! If this is a misprint, U.A., the most prominent school in Japan, should be ashamed!" The boy turned on his heel, his finger pointing directly into the crowd—specifically, right at Izuku. "And you, the one with the curly hair! You've been muttering and fidgeting with your head this entire time! If you can't take this seriously, leave!"

Izuku froze, his hands still clamped tightly over his hidden pink ears. The entire auditorium turned to look at him. He felt his face heat up again. 

"Sorry," Izuku squeaked, shrinking down in his seat. Beside him, Bakugo let out a derisive scoff. 

"Alright, alright, examinee number 7111!" Present Mic interjected smoothly. "Thanks for the great message! The fourth villain type is worth zero points. It's an obstacle, so to speak. There's one in every battle center. It's not impossible to defeat, but there's no reason to. I recommend you listeners try to avoid it!" 

The bespectacled boy bowed a perfect ninety degrees. "Thank you very much! Please excuse the interruption!" 

As the boy sat down, Izuku let out a slow exhale. He carefully retracted his pink ears, feeling the muscles dissolve back into his normal scalp. 

Three types of scoring robots, Izuku thought, his analytical mind kicking into gear. They're metal. To destroy them, I'm going to need blunt force. The mega arms are perfect for this. I just have to rack up enough points.

"I'll kill them all," Bakugo muttered next to him, his voice barely a whisper, but laced with absolute venom. "And if you get in my way, Deku, I'll kill you too."

Izuku didn't flinch. He just looked straight ahead at the stage. "I'm not getting in your way, Kacchan. I'm making my own."

Battle Center B.

Izuku stood before a set of gates so massive they looked like they belonged to a Jurassic Park enclosure. Beyond them lay a replica of a sprawling metropolis—skyscrapers, paved roads, traffic lights, and narrow alleyways. 

He was wearing his green tracksuit, having left his restricting uniform jacket in his locker. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. Around him, dozens of other teenagers were stretching, praying, or hyperventilating. He spotted the nice girl with the gravity Quirk near the front, looking incredibly nervous. He thought about going over to thank her again, but the loud screech of the intercom stopped him. 

"RIGHT, LET'S START!" Present Mic's voice boomed from hidden speakers. "THERE ARE NO COUNTDOWNS IN REAL BATTLES! RUN, RUN, RUN!"

The massive doors slowly began to grind open. 

Most of the candidates hesitated, waiting for the doors to open fully. But Izuku’s ten months of training with All Might had taught him to react instantly. 

Before the doors were even a quarter of the way open, Izuku kicked off the ground. He shot through the narrow gap like a bullet, leaving the other examinees blinking in surprise. 

He hit the main street of the mock city, his green eyes darting left and right. 

Clank. Clank. Clank.

From around the corner of a four-story building, a One-Pointer rolled into view. It was a bulky, olive-green machine on tank treads, a single red optic glowing in its center. 

"Target acquired," the robot synthesized in a metallic monotone. 

Showtime, Izuku thought. 

He didn't break his stride. He narrowed his focus, searching for the thumping rhythm of the beast inside his chest. He found it instantly. He fed his kinetic energy into his right shoulder. 

Sync!

A blinding flash of neon-pink light illuminated the shadowed street. With a sound like a tearing sail, the colossal, spotted jaguar arm manifested. The sheer weight of it dragged Izuku’s right shoulder down, but his hardened core muscles locked into place, supporting the half-ton appendage perfectly. 

Izuku roared, swinging the giant pink paw in a wide, sweeping arc. 

CRUNCH!

The massive paw connected with the One-Pointer's chassis. The impact was absolute. The robot didn't just break; it crumpled like a stepped-on soda can, sparks and hydraulic fluid spraying violently across the asphalt as it was launched thirty feet down the road. 

"One point!" Izuku shouted, the adrenaline singing in his veins. 

"Hey, look at that guy's Quirk! It's huge!" one of the examinees yelled, having just caught up to the entrance. 

Izuku didn't stop to gloat. He kept the giant arm manifested and sprinted down the street, searching for more targets. He turned a corner into a narrower alleyway, lined with closely packed residential buildings. 

Two Two-Pointers and a Three-Pointer were waiting for him. 

"Seven points right there!" Izuku grinned, pulling back his colossal right arm for another devastating swing. 

But as he pulled the giant paw back, a harsh reality of his Quirk made itself known. 

SMASH.

The elbow of his giant jaguar arm collided violently with the second-story balcony of the building beside him. The concrete shattered, raining debris down onto the street. Izuku stumbled, his swing completely derailed by the lack of space. 

"Wait, what?" Izuku gasped, losing his footing. 

The Three-Pointer took advantage of his stumble, firing a non-lethal, compressed-air missile. It struck Izuku square in the chest, sending him skidding backward on the pavement, his giant arm dragging heavily against the ground and tearing up the asphalt. 

"Dammit!" Izuku grunted, scrambling to his feet. He looked around. 

The street was only about twenty feet wide. His mega arm, from shoulder to claw, was nearly fifteen feet long. He was essentially trying to swing a school bus in a hallway. 

I'm too big! he realized with a sinking feeling. The raw power is incredible, but in an urban environment like this, I have zero spatial maneuverability! I'm going to cause massive collateral damage!

"Die!" a voice screamed from above. 

A blonde boy with a laser-navel Quirk dropped from the sky, blasting the three robots into scrap metal. "Thanks for the distraction, monsieur! Keep swinging that bulky thing around!" 

Izuku watched as the boy dashed away. He looked at his giant, pink arm. It was a weapon of mass destruction, unsuited for the surgical precision required in a cramped city environment. 

With a heavy sigh, Izuku focused his energy and retracted the arm. The pink light flared, and the massive appendage vanished, leaving him with his normal, human arm. 

"Okay. Plan B," Izuku muttered. 

He closed his eyes. If he couldn't use raw size, he would use agility. 

Poof. 

His pink, spotted jaguar ears sprouted from his head. A second later, the thick, muscular pink tail burst from the base of his spine. 

Instantly, his senses sharpened. He could hear the hum of robot engines three streets over. He dropped into a low, predatory crouch. He sprinted, his tail whipping behind him to perfectly balance his center of gravity. He felt incredibly light, incredibly fast. 

He found a Two-Pointer trying to ambush a candidate. Izuku leaped off the side of a building, using his tail like a spring against the brick wall. He landed on top of the robot, wrapping his thick, prehensile tail around the robot's optical sensor and ripping it clean off with brute muscular force. 

"Two points!" 

It was effective, but it was slow. Destroying thick metal plating with just a tail and human hands was exhausting work. He couldn't obliterate them instantly like he could with the mega arm. 

"Six minutes remaining!" Present Mic's voice echoed. 

Izuku checked his mental tally. Twelve points. That's not enough. The cut-off is usually around forty! I have to move faster!

He darted through the city, dodging other candidates whose Quirks were perfectly suited for the environment. He saw the bespectacled boy speeding through the streets with engines in his calves. He saw a boy with tape elbows immobilizing robots by the dozen. 

Panic began to set in. Izuku was sweating profusely. His breathing grew ragged. The beast inside him wanted out. It wanted to roar, to manifest the giant arms and crush the entire city block just to get to the prey, but Izuku fought to keep it caged. 

I can't destroy the city. Heroes minimize damage. 

Fourteen points. Fifteen.

"Two minutes remaining!" 

Izuku stopped in the middle of a wide intersection, his chest heaving, his pink tail drooping with exhaustion. Fifteen points. I'm failing. After everything All Might did for me... I'm going to fail.

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet trembled. 

It wasn't a small tremor. It felt like a massive earthquake. The glass in the surrounding buildings shattered. A shadow fell over the entire intersection, blocking out the sun. 

Izuku slowly looked up, his pink ears swiveling to catch the deafening grind of massive gears. 

Rolling over the tops of the buildings at the far end of the street was the Zero Pointer. 

It was a monstrosity. A colossal, olive-green machine that was easily the size of a skyscraper. It dwarfed the entire mock city. With a single swipe of its massive metal hand, it obliterated a row of buildings, sending a tidal wave of concrete debris, dust, and smoke surging down the main street. 

"Less than two minutes left!" a candidate screamed, running past Izuku in sheer terror. "Run! It's the Zero Pointer! There's no point in fighting it!"

The entire crowd of examinees turned and sprinted toward the entrance gates. It was a stampede of self-preservation. 

Izuku’s survival instincts screamed at him to run. His jaguar ears flattened against his skull, overwhelmed by the screeching metal. His human legs took a step backward. It's just an obstacle. Present Mic said to run. Run!

"Ow..."

The sound was tiny. Barely a whisper beneath the cacophony of destruction. A normal human never would have heard it. 

But Izuku Midoriya was not a normal human. His pink, spotted ears perked up, cutting through the noise, locking onto the frequency of human distress. 

He snapped his head toward the rubble. 

About fifty yards away, directly in the path of the advancing colossal robot, was the girl with the auburn hair. A massive chunk of concrete had fallen across her legs. She was trapped, pushing against the rubble with her hands, tears of pain and terror streaming down her face. 

She looked up at the towering metal foot of the Zero Pointer descending toward her. 

Izuku looked at the retreating candidates. No one was turning back. No one was going to help her. 

In that fraction of a second, something snapped inside Izuku's mind. 

It wasn't a conscious decision. It was something far deeper. The girl had saved him from falling. She had smiled at him. In the primal, instinctive logic of the mega beast slumbering in his DNA, she was no longer a stranger. She was a member of his pack. 

And a predator does not abandon its pack. 

The fear evaporated, replaced by a surge of white-hot, overwhelming protective fury. The blockage in his mind—the human hesitation that had kept his Quirk restrained—shattered completely. 

Izuku didn't just open the gate. He ripped it off its hinges. 

"HAAAAAA!" 

Izuku roared, a sound that started human but warped into a terrifying, guttural, feline snarl. 

A blinding, explosive pillar of neon-pink light erupted from Izuku's body, shooting straight up into the sky. The sheer kinetic force of the manifestation blew the dust and debris away in a massive shockwave. 

The heat didn't just pool in his shoulders this time. It flooded downward, cascading through his spine, his hips, his thighs, and his calves. It felt like his bones were melting and reforming in the span of a heartbeat. The fabric of his green tracksuit pants shredded into confetti. 

When the pink light flared to its peak, Izuku dropped forward, his hands hitting the asphalt. 

He was no longer standing on two human legs. 

From the waist down, Izuku had completely transformed. His human legs had been replaced by two colossal, neon-pink, spotted jaguar hind legs. They were monstrously thick, corded with muscles the size of tree trunks. They were digitigrade, meaning he stood on the massive padded toes, a giant, raised heel joint bent backward like a spring. 

But that wasn't all. Protruding from his lower abdomen, flanking his hips, was another pair of giant pink jaguar legs. 

Four colossal hind legs. A six-limbed mega beast. 

Izuku was locked into a low, four-point stance, his human torso anchored to the massive lower half of a giant predator. His pink tail, now incredibly thick and long, whipped wildly in the air behind him. His pink ears were pinned flat. His green eyes were completely consumed by glowing pink irises. 

He was entirely lost to the instinct. He was a force of nature. 

Protect the pack. 

Izuku dug the massive, obsidian claws of his four giant hind paws deep into the asphalt. The street cracked and buckled under the immense pressure. 

He engaged the colossal muscles in his thighs. 

JUMP!

The release of kinetic energy was catastrophic. The entire street beneath him exploded, a crater fifty feet wide forming instantly as Izuku launched himself. He broke the sound barrier, a crack of thunder echoing across the mock city as he rocketed diagonally into the sky, aimed straight for the Zero Pointer's head. 

The wind tore at his face. The g-force pressed his skin back. But Izuku felt nothing but the thumping rhythm of the beast. 

As he sailed through the air, completely dwarfing the surrounding buildings, the heat rushed back up to his shoulders. 

Sync!

In mid-air, both of his human arms erupted into the blinding pink light. The colossal, furry forearms of the mega jaguar materialized. 

He was now wielding six giant, pink limbs—a horrifyingly beautiful mosaic of man and mythical beast. 

The Zero Pointer's red optic tracked the incoming pink blur, but the machine was too slow to react. 

Izuku pulled his right mega-arm back, the colossal bicep bulging. He focused every ounce of his protective fury, every second of dragging trash across a beach, into his giant pink paw. 

"SMAAAAAAAASH!" 

Izuku brought the giant, clawed fist down directly onto the center of the Zero Pointer's face. 

The impact defied physics. The localized shockwave rippled out in a visible ring, shattering the glass of every building in a three-block radius. The sheer, overwhelming kinetic force of the mega paw caved in the robot's armor like wet tissue paper. 

The Zero Pointer's head was utterly obliterated. The internal explosions rippled down its neck, and the colossal titan of steel began to fall backward, away from the trapped girl, crashing into the mock city with the force of a meteor strike. 

Silence descended over the battlefield, save for the rain of metallic debris. 

Izuku hung in the air for a fraction of a second, a god of pink fur and fury. 

Then, the biological toll came due. 

Manifesting six colossal limbs simultaneously required more energy than Izuku’s body could possibly sustain. His caloric reserves instantly hit zero. His blood sugar plummeted. The intense, glowing pink rings in his eyes vanished. 

"Ah..." Izuku gasped, his human consciousness violently slamming back into place. 

The pain was unimaginable. Every muscle fiber in his body screamed. The pink light flickered and died. The four giant legs and two giant arms rapidly dissolved, shrinking back into his scrawny human limbs, the fur vanishing into the ether. 

Suddenly, Izuku was just a fourteen-year-old boy in a shredded tracksuit, free-falling from a height of three hundred feet. 

The wind whipped past his ears. The ground rushed up to meet him. 

I... I did it, Izuku thought, his vision darkening at the edges. I saved her. But... I don't have any strength left to land. I can't even summon my tail. I'm going to die.

He closed his eyes, accepting the fall. 

SMACK.

A sharp, stinging pain erupted across his cheek. Izuku's eyes shot open. 

Hovering beside him in mid-air, having ridden a floating piece of debris up to catch him, was the auburn-haired girl. She had just slapped him across the face. 

"Release!" she shouted, pressing her fingertips together. 

Suddenly, Izuku's descent halted. He floated gently in the air, weightless, just ten feet above the broken asphalt. The girl, however, had pushed herself past her limit. She turned green, leaned over, and violently threw up onto the street. 

Izuku hit the ground softly as her Quirk deactivated. He lay on his back, staring up at the blue sky, his chest heaving, his body entirely broken. 

"Time's up!" Present Mic's voice blared over the intercom. 

Izuku let his head loll to the side. He saw the girl sitting on the pavement, wiping her mouth. He saw the other examinees slowly walking back, their jaws dropped in absolute awe as they stared at the cratered street and the smoking, headless ruin of the Zero Pointer. 

Zero points for that, Izuku thought numbly. I spent all that time, all that energy, and I ended the exam with fifteen points. I failed.

The black spots consumed his vision, and the Pink Wonderbeast finally slept. 

"Out of the way, out of the way! Let the pro through!" 

Izuku drifted in and out of consciousness. He felt a soft, wrinkled hand checking his pulse. He smelled the distinct scent of medicinal herbs and gummy candies. 

"Goodness gracious," a grandmotherly voice tutted. "What a reckless Quirk. To completely rewrite one's cellular structure on such a massive scale... it's a miracle his heart didn't stop."

Izuku cracked his eyes open. An incredibly short, elderly woman in a doctor's coat with a syringe for a walking stick was standing over him. It was Recovery Girl, the backbone of U.A.'s medical staff. 

She leaned down and planted a kiss directly on Izuku's forehead. 

Instantly, a warm wave of energy washed over him. The agonizing, tearing pain in his limbs subsided, replaced by a profound, lethargic exhaustion. 

"Sit up, boy," Recovery Girl commanded gently. 

Izuku groaned, pushing himself up. The auburn-haired girl was standing nearby, looking incredibly relieved. The boy with the glasses was staring at Izuku with a complex expression of guilt and newfound respect. 

"You healed me," Izuku whispered. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Recovery Girl said, her expression turning incredibly serious. She tapped her walking stick against the asphalt. "Your body is healed, but your energy reserves are dangerously depleted. You need to eat, immediately."

She stepped closer, leaning in so only Izuku could hear her. 

"Listen to me carefully, Midoriya," she whispered. "I've seen many mutation Quirks in my time. But yours is different. When you transformed your lower half, your brainwaves spiked into a pattern I have never seen in a human being. It was the neural pattern of an apex predator."

Izuku’s breath caught. He remembered the feeling. The total loss of human hesitation. The pure, unadulterated instinct. 

"You aren't just shifting your body," Recovery Girl warned, her eyes narrowing. "You're shifting your mind. The more of that beast you let out, the harder it will be to put it back in the cage. If you lose your humanity to the animal, you will become a monster. You need to find an anchor. Something to keep your human mind present when the beast takes over. Do you understand?"

Izuku nodded slowly, a chill running down his spine. "An anchor. Yes, ma'am."

She patted his cheek, handing him a handful of gummy bears. "Good. Now go home and rest. You've done enough today."

The weeks following the entrance exam were agonizing. 

Spring had arrived. The cherry blossoms were blooming, but Izuku barely noticed. He walked to school in a daze. He sat in his bedroom, staring blankly at his All Might posters. 

He hadn't seen Toshinori since the beach. He hadn't heard a word from U.A. 

He knew his score. Fifteen points. It was pathetic. The cutoff was surely much higher. He had thrown away his chance at U.A. to save a girl who was fighting an obstacle worth zero points. 

I don't regret saving her, Izuku told himself repeatedly. A hero saves people. If I didn't save her, I wouldn't deserve to be at U.A. anyway.

Even Bakugo's silence was maddening. The explosive blonde had breezed through the exam, scoring the highest combat points of anyone. He didn't even bother to mock Izuku; he simply ignored him, as if Izuku were a ghost. 

Then, one rainy Tuesday evening, Inko slid into Izuku's room, holding a sealed envelope. Her hands were shaking violently. 

"Izuku," she whispered, tears already forming in her eyes. "It's here. From U.A."

Izuku sat up slowly. He took the envelope. It felt incredibly heavy. 

He waited for his mother to leave the room before he opened it. He carefully tore the paper seal. 

A small, metal disc slipped out of the envelope, clattering onto his wooden desk. 

For a second, nothing happened. Then, the disc whirred to life, projecting a massive, high-definition hologram against the wall of his bedroom. 

"I AM HERE AS A PROJECTION!" 

All Might's booming voice filled the room. The hero was wearing a bright yellow suit, pointing directly at the camera. 

"All Might?!" Izuku gasped. "Is this from U.A.?"

"Indeed it is, young Midoriya!" All Might laughed. "I apologize for not contacting you! I have been incredibly busy, because I have taken a teaching position at U.A. High!" 

Izuku’s jaw dropped. All Might, a teacher?! 

"You did well on the written exam," All Might continued, his tone shifting to something more serious. "But your practical exam... fifteen combat points. Simply put, if that were the only criteria, you would fail."

Izuku looked down at his lap. I knew it.

"However!" 

The hologram shifted. A video clip began to play. It was security footage from the mock city. It showed Izuku in the lobby of the testing center. But it wasn't him. It was the girl with the auburn hair. She was talking to Present Mic. 

"Excuse me," the girl pleaded in the video. "The boy with the curly hair and the... the pink tail! Can I give him some of my points? He saved me! He would have had a better score if he hadn't stopped to save me!"

Izuku felt a lump form in his throat. She had tried to give him her points. 

"You see, Midoriya, a hero course that rejects those who do the right thing is no hero course at all!" All Might proclaimed, pointing proudly at the screen. "We don't just grade on combat! How could we? We are assessing heroes!"

The screen shifted again, showing a scoreboard. 

"Rescue Points! Given by a panel of judges to those who exhibit true heroic spirit!" 

Izuku’s name appeared on the board. Next to it, the number fifteen. 

Then, an entirely new column appeared. 

RESCUE POINTS: 60.

TOTAL: 75 POINTS.

Izuku’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Seventy-five points. 

"Sixty rescue points for obliterating an impossible obstacle to save a fellow examinee!" All Might smiled, a warm, genuine look on his face. "Katsuki Bakugo placed first in combat, but Izuku Midoriya... you placed first overall."

The hologram of All Might reached his hand forward, as if offering it directly to Izuku. 

"Come, young Midoriya. This is your hero academia."

The hologram fizzled out, plunging the room back into silence. 

Izuku sat there for a long moment. He looked at his right hand. He slowly clenched it into a fist. The pink, bioluminescent ring briefly flashed in his green eyes. 

He didn't need to force the tears back anymore. He let them fall, burying his face in his hands as a sob of pure, unadulterated joy ripped from his throat. 

The mega beast had awoken. The Pink Wonderbeast had arrived. And U.A. High would never be the same.