What If Deku Was Born With a Quirk in My Hero Academia

The waiting room of the Musutafu Private Quirk Clinic smelled intensely of sterile alcohol pads and faint ozone. It was a scent that four-year-old Izuku Midoriya would remember for the rest of his life, permanently etched into his memory alongside the blinding white of the fluorescent lights overhead and the anxious rhythm of his mother’s foot tapping against the linoleum floor.

 

Inko Midoriya clutched her purse with white-knuckled intensity. She was a kind, soft-spoken woman who possessed a minor telekinetic Quirk—the ability to attract small objects to her hands. Her husband, Hisashi, breathed fire. Both were remarkably average abilities in a world where the extraordinary had become the mundane. Yet, as the months had dragged on past Izuku’s fourth birthday with no sign of a Quirk manifesting, a quiet, suffocating dread had begun to settle over their household. The statistics were well-known: twenty percent of the population remained Quirkless, evolutionary leftovers in a society accelerating toward godhood. Inko couldn't bear the thought of her sweet, hero-obsessed boy having his dreams crushed before they even began.

 

Izuku, blissfully ignorant of his mother’s spiraling anxiety, was currently on his knees in front of one of the waiting room chairs, violently slamming a plastic All Might action figure against a scuffed-up villain toy.

 

"Fear not, citizens!" Izuku squeaked, his voice pitching high as he tried to mimic the booming baritone of the Symbol of Peace. "Because I am here! Texas Smash!"

 

He slammed the plastic fist into the villain toy, sending it skittering across the floor. He scrambled after it, giggling. He was wearing his favorite t-shirt, the one with All Might’s Golden Age costume printed on the front, and his oversized red shoes squeaked against the floorboards.

 

"Izuku, honey, please don't be too loud," Inko chided gently, offering an apologetic smile to the receptionist behind the glass window.

 

"Sorry, Mom!" Izuku chirped, picking up the villain toy. He looked at it, his large emerald eyes gleaming with boundless imagination. "But the villains never sleep, so heroes can't either!"

 

Before Inko could respond, the heavy wooden door to the examination rooms clicked open. A tall, balding doctor with thick, round spectacles and a bushy mustache stepped out, holding a clipboard. Dr. Tsubasa had a face that seemed naturally disposed to delivering bad news, his expression sagging under the weight of a thousand dashed childhood dreams.

 

"Midoriya Izuku?" the doctor called out, his voice a dry rasp.

 

Inko jolted, instantly standing up and smoothing down her skirt. "Yes, that's us. Come along, Izuku."

 

Izuku scooped up his action figures, his heart doing a little flutter of excitement. This was it. The moment he found out what kind of power he would use to save people. Would it be fire? Would it be pulling things? Maybe a combination? He bounced on his heels as they followed the doctor down the narrow, stark-white hallway into a small examination room adorned with anatomical posters of Quirk-factors.

 

"Have a seat," Dr. Tsubasa said, gesturing to the examination table. He pulled up a rolling stool, clicking his pen with a loud, mechanical clack.

 

Inko lifted Izuku onto the crinkling paper of the exam table. Izuku kicked his legs, staring at the doctor with wide, unblinking reverence.

 

"So, Mrs. Midoriya," Dr. Tsubasa began, looking down at his notes. "We took the x-rays of Izuku's feet, drew some blood, and ran the standard genetic sequencing. You said you can pull small objects, and your husband breathes fire, correct?"

 

"Yes," Inko said, her voice trembling slightly. "But Izuku... he hasn't shown any signs. Most of his friends at preschool have already manifested. Katsuki Bakugo has been making little explosions from his palms for weeks now. Is... is there something wrong?"

 

Dr. Tsubasa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He reached over and pulled a large, translucent x-ray film from a manila folder, snapping it onto the light board on the wall. The skeletal image of a small foot illuminated the room.

 

"You see this right here?" Dr. Tsubasa pointed a pen at the pinky toe on the x-ray. "This is the proximal phalanx, and right here is the middle phalanx. In early human evolution, the pinky toe had two joints. However, as the Quirk phenomenon began spreading, geneticists noticed a fascinating correlation. The human body is remarkably efficient. When a body is preparing to house complex genetic mutations—Quirks—it sheds unnecessary evolutionary baggage to free up systemic resources."

 

Inko leaned forward, her breath hitching. "Meaning...?"

 

"Meaning, people with Quirks only have one joint in their pinky toes," the doctor explained, his tone clinical and detached. "It's the most surefire way to tell if a child has the genetic capacity for a Quirk. If they have two joints, they are part of the old evolutionary baseline. Quirkless."

 

Izuku stopped kicking his legs. He looked at the x-ray, then down at his red shoes, a cold, heavy feeling settling in his chest. The room suddenly felt very quiet. The ticking of the clock on the wall sounded like a hammer striking an anvil.

 

Dr. Tsubasa tapped the x-ray. "Now, look closely at Izuku's pinky toe."

 

Inko squeezed her eyes shut, terrified to look. Izuku leaned forward, squinting.

 

"There's only one joint," the doctor said.

 

Inko's eyes snapped open. "What?"

 

"One joint," Dr. Tsubasa repeated, turning in his stool. "Biologically speaking, Izuku possesses the genetic framework for a Quirk. In fact, his blood work shows elevated levels of specific proteins usually associated with Emitter-class abilities. There is absolutely no reason he shouldn't have manifested a Quirk by now. It’s highly unusual."

 

"He... he has one?" Inko asked, her hands flying to her mouth, tears of sheer relief springing to the corners of her eyes. "But then why hasn't anything happened?"

 

"Quirks are tied to physical and emotional triggers," the doctor explained, leaning back. "Sometimes, a child just needs the right stimulus. A moment of intense stress, excitement, or even a sudden physical reaction can force the Quirk-factor to activate. It's essentially dormant right now. It could happen tomorrow, it could happen next year. But he is not Quirkless."

 

Izuku’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. I have a Quirk. The thought echoed in his tiny mind, loud and triumphant. I'm going to be a hero.

 

The sheer, overwhelming joy of the revelation hit Izuku like a freight train. His heart began to hammer against his ribs like a frantic bird. His core temperature spiked, a sudden, intense heat blooming behind his sternum. It wasn't an uncomfortable heat; it felt like swallowing a mouthful of hot cocoa on a freezing winter day, radiating outward through his veins.

 

"Oh, thank goodness," Inko sobbed, reaching out to hug her son. "Izuku, did you hear that? You're going to—"

 

Suddenly, Izuku’s nose twitched. The smell of sterile alcohol and ozone in the room grew overwhelmingly sharp. The heat in his chest rushed upward, climbing his throat, tickling the back of his nasal cavity. He gasped, his chest expanding as he took in a massive gulp of air.

 

"Uh oh," Izuku mumbled, his eyes crossing.

 

"Izuku? Honey, are you alright?" Inko asked, stepping back.

 

The boy's face scrunched up. The heat was unbearable now, localized entirely in his sinuses and throat. He leaned back, inhaling sharply.

 

"Achoo!"

 

It wasn't saliva or mucus that expelled from the four-year-old’s mouth. It was a torrential, concentrated blast of brilliant, emerald-green fire.

 

The flames erupted with the roar of a jet engine, blindingly bright, illuminating the tiny clinic room in a wash of neon green light. The doctor shouted in alarm, throwing his arms up to shield his face, while Inko shrieked, diving to the floor. The pillar of green fire shot across the room, narrowly missing the doctor's head, and slammed into the opposite wall, singing the anatomical posters and leaving a scorched, black scorch mark on the plaster.

 

But the fire didn't just burn.

 

As the brief second of Izuku's fiery sneeze ended, the flames lingering on the wall seemed to warp the very air around them. A strange, vibrating hum filled the room, like the sound of a heavy bass string being plucked.

 

Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, the box of tissues resting on the doctor’s desk suddenly lurched forward. It didn't just fall; it was violently yanked horizontally across the room, flying straight toward Izuku as if pulled by an invisible string.

 

Izuku, still blinking away the shock of breathing fire, instinctively reached out his hands. Smack. The tissue box landed perfectly in his tiny palms.

 

Silence descended upon the clinic room, save for the crackling of the small, dying green embers on the wall and the heavy, terrified panting of Dr. Tsubasa.

 

Izuku looked at the tissue box in his hands. He looked at the scorched wall. He looked at his mother, who was staring at him from the floor with a mixture of absolute terror and profound awe.

 

"Mom," Izuku whispered, holding up the tissue box. "I think... I think I found it."

 

 

 

Ten years later, the name Izuku Midoriya meant something very different in the halls of Aldera Junior High than it might have in another universe.

 

In this world, Izuku was not a tragic, Quirkless outcast. He was half of a legend. He was one of the "Twin Stars" of Musutafu.

 

The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the third-year classroom, catching the chalk dust dancing in the air. The teacher, a balding man who always looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, stood at the front of the room, holding a thick stack of career aptitude papers.

 

"Since you're all third years, it's time for you to think seriously about your futures," the teacher announced, his voice droning over the chatter of the students. "I'll pass out handouts for your future plans now, but..." He paused, a wry smile crossing his face. He suddenly threw the stack of papers into the air, letting them scatter across the floor. "You're all pretty much planning to go into the hero course, right?!"

 

The classroom erupted. Students leaped from their desks, cheering and showing off their Quirks. A boy stretched his neck out like a turtle; a girl materialized water from her fingertips; another student made his eyes pop out of his head. It was a chaotic symphony of low-tier, everyday superpowers.

 

"Yes, yes, you all have wonderful Quirks," the teacher said, waving his hands to settle them down. "But remember, using your powers in school is against the rules."

 

"Sensei! Don't lump me in with these losers!"

 

The voice, arrogant and booming, sliced through the noise like a hot knife through butter. The classroom fell silent, all eyes turning to the back row. Katsuki Bakugo had his feet kicked up on his desk, his arms crossed behind his head, a smirk of absolute superiority plastered across his face. His ash-blonde hair spiked in every direction, and tiny, crackling explosions popped in the palms of his hands like firecrackers.

 

"As if I had anything in common with these weaklings," Katsuki scoffed. "My Quirk is in a completely different league. You extras will be lucky to end up as sidekicks to some busted D-lister."

 

The class erupted in outrage. "You take that back, Katsuki!" "Who're you calling an extra?!"

 

"Shut up, you stepping stones!" Katsuki roared back, leaping onto his desk. "I aced all the mock tests! I'm the only one at this school who could possibly get into U.A. High! I'll surpass All Might and become the top hero, and my name will be carved into the highest tax bracket in the world!"

 

"Ah, yes," the teacher noted, looking at a clipboard. "Bakugo, you are going for U.A. High, aren't you?"

 

The class murmured, their anger shifting to awe. "U.A.? The national school? The acceptance rate is like, zero point two percent this year!"

 

Katsuki basked in the attention, his smirk widening. But the teacher wasn't finished.

 

"Oh, Midoriya. You're also aiming for U.A., aren't you?"

 

The spotlight in the room immediately shifted. A few desks away from Katsuki sat a boy with unruly, dark green hair that seemed to defy gravity. Izuku Midoriya was currently scribbling frantically in a scorched, battered notebook titled Hero Analysis for the Future, No. 13. He wore the standard black school uniform, but anyone paying attention could see the subtle differences in his physique compared to a normal middle schooler. His shoulders were broad, his posture straight, and his arms, visible beneath his rolled-up sleeves, were corded with lean, densely packed muscle. Faint, jagged burn scars spider-webbed across his knuckles and forearms—a testament to a Quirk that demanded a heavy toll.

 

Izuku stopped writing. He looked up, his bright emerald eyes meeting the gaze of the class. He didn't cower. He didn't stutter. He simply smiled, a confident, easy expression.

 

"Yeah," Izuku said, his voice calm and steady. "It's the best hero school in the country. If I want to be the best, that's where I need to go."

 

The class didn't laugh. They didn't mock him. Instead, a wave of excited whispering broke out.

 

"Midoriya too? Of course!"

"The Twin Stars are both going to U.A.!"

"Man, I feel sorry for anyone who has to fight them in the entrance exam."

 

Katsuki’s eye twitched. He slowly turned his head to glare at Izuku. The smirk was gone, replaced by a fierce, burning intensity. He hopped off his desk and stalked over to Izuku’s row, stopping right in front of the green-haired boy. Katsuki slammed his hands down on Izuku’s desk, smoke wafting from his palms and singeing the wood.

 

"Deku," Katsuki growled, using the childhood nickname that had originally meant 'useless,' but over the years had morphed into a strange term of endearment and rivalry. "Don't think just because you've got a flashy parlor trick you can stand on the same stage as me."

 

Izuku didn't flinch. He leaned back in his chair, twirling his pencil between his scarred fingers. "It's not a parlor trick, Kacchan. You know that. And we're not standing on the same stage. I'm going to be standing a step above you."

 

The tension in the air was palpable. It felt like standing near a live wire in a rainstorm. The class watched with bated breath. This was the dynamic of the Twin Stars. They had grown up together, discovered their Quirks around the same time, and realized very quickly that they were leagues ahead of their peers. Instead of Katsuki developing a superiority complex that alienated Izuku, he had found the one person who could take his explosions and throw something just as dangerous right back at him. They didn't hate each other. They respected each other far too much for that. But their rivalry was absolute, bordering on feral.

 

Katsuki’s lips curled into a predatory grin. "Big words, nerd. Try not to fry your own lungs before the exam. I want the satisfaction of crushing you at your best."

 

"Just worry about not blowing your own arms off," Izuku retorted, his smile matching Katsuki’s intensity. "I'd hate to win by default."

 

Katsuki scoffed, a small explosion popping in his right hand. "Whatever. Just don't get in my way." He turned and swaggered back to his desk, the confrontation over. The class exhaled a collective breath they hadn't realized they were holding.

 

Izuku turned his attention back to his notebook. He was currently sketching a breakdown of Kamui Woods' binding maneuvers, which he had witnessed on his way to school that morning during a villain fight at Tatooin Station. He analyzed the tensile strength of the wood, the speed of the expansion, and the optimal angles for evasion.

 

His analytical mind was his greatest weapon, perhaps even more so than his Quirk. Because his Quirk, which he had registered under the name "Comet," was notoriously difficult to control.

 

It wasn't just pyrokinesis. If it were just generating fire, he would be a dime-a-dozen elemental. Izuku's flames, inherited from his father but mutated by his mother’s telekinesis, possessed unique physical properties. They were bright green, burning exponentially hotter than standard orange or blue fire, and they carried a localized gravitational or magnetic pull.

 

Izuku could generate these flames from anywhere on his body, though his hands and feet were the most efficient conduits. When he ignited a flame, he could mentally assign it a directional force relative to his own center of gravity: "Attract" or "Repel."

 

If he used "Repel," the flames acted like a concussive blast, pushing objects away with immense kinetic force, like a localized telekinetic shockwave masked in fire. If he used "Attract," the flames acted like a tether, pulling whatever they touched back toward Izuku.

 

The physical applications were endless. He could pull a villain's weapon out of their hand, repel attacks, or, by pushing against the ground with Repel flames, launch himself into the air like a rocket. By using Attract on a heavy, anchored object like a building, he could pull his own body toward it, simulating high-speed flight or grappling.

 

But the drawbacks were severe. The green fire burned incredibly hot. If he used it for too long, his internal body temperature would skyrocket, leading to heatstroke, severe dehydration, and internal burns. His lung capacity was a constant issue, as the fire required massive amounts of oxygen to sustain itself. Furthermore, Newton's Third Law of Motion applied heavily to his Quirk. If he tried to "Attract" an object heavier than himself, the object wouldn't move; Izuku would be pulled toward the object. If he didn't brace himself properly, the sudden kinetic whiplash could dislocate his shoulders or shatter his bones.

 

That was why Izuku trained. Every day, for the last ten years, he had pushed his body to its absolute limits. He ran miles to build his cardiovascular endurance. He lifted weights to reinforce his joints and muscles against the kinetic backlash of his Quirk. He practiced breathing exercises in saunas to increase his heat tolerance. He was a weapon forged in the fires of his own ambition.

 

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Izuku packed his bag methodically. Katsuki was already at the door, surrounded by a few lackeys.

 

"Hey, Deku," Katsuki called out, not looking back. "I'm going to the arcade in Sector 4. Don't die on your way home."

 

"I'll try my best, Kacchan," Izuku replied cheerfully, swinging his yellow backpack over his shoulder.

 

Izuku took the long way home. He liked walking through the city, his eyes constantly scanning the skyline, his ears tuned for the sounds of sirens. A hero's work was never done, even if he wasn't legally allowed to do it yet. He muttered to himself as he walked, his brain working a mile a minute.

 

"Mt. Lady’s gigantification is incredible for crowd control, but the collateral damage to infrastructure in narrow streets is a severe liability. If she faces an agile villain in a crowded ward, she won't be able to utilize her full size without risking civilian casualties. She needs a capture-type support item, maybe something akin to carbon-fiber netting, to restrict movement before she..."

 

His muttering trailed off as he approached a large, dark underpass beneath a multi-lane highway. The shadows were deep here, the air cool and damp, smelling faintly of sewage and stagnant water.

 

Izuku liked the quiet. It gave him time to think. He stepped into the tunnel, his red shoes echoing softly against the concrete.

 

He was halfway through when he heard the sound.

 

It wasn't a footstep. It sounded like a wet, heavy sack of mud being dragged across the asphalt. A gurgling, squelching noise that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

 

Izuku stopped. His instincts, honed by years of hyper-awareness, flared to life. He dropped his notebook and spun around, dropping into a defensive stance, his feet shoulder-width apart, his fists raised.

 

Rising from a manhole cover a few yards away was a nightmare. It was a massive, amorphous blob of dark green, viscous sludge. The sludge writhed and bubbled, forming a towering, wave-like structure. Two massive, bulbous yellow eyes opened within the liquid mass, followed by a wide, jagged mouth filled with crooked, uneven teeth.

 

"A medium-sized invisibility cloak," the Sludge Villain gurgled, its voice wet and guttural. "Perfect. Just what I need to hide from him."

 

Izuku didn't freeze. The fear was there, a cold spike in his gut, but the training overrode the panic. Villain. Fluid body type. Physical attacks won't work. Needs a host. He wants my body.

 

The villain lunged, a massive tendril of sludge whipping forward like a striking snake.

 

"Don't worry, kid," the villain cackled. "It'll only hurt for about 45 seconds! Then, it'll all be over!"

 

Izuku took a sharp breath. The familiar heat bloomed in his chest. I can't use Attract, it'll pull the sludge right onto me. I have to blow it away.

 

Izuku thrust both hands forward, his palms open. "Comet: Repel!"

 

A burst of emerald green fire erupted from his hands, accompanied by a booming shockwave. The kinetic force slammed into the incoming sludge tendril, vaporizing the liquid at the point of contact and physically blowing the rest of the mass backward.

 

The Sludge Villain shrieked as the green flames scorched its fluid body. It splattered against the concrete wall of the underpass, boiling and sizzling.

 

"What the hell?!" the villain roared, reforming its mass. "A fire Quirk? You brat! You think that's enough to stop me?!"

 

Izuku was already moving. He knew he couldn't beat a fluid villain in an enclosed space without causing massive collateral damage to the bridge structure above, and his flames were already eating away at the oxygen in the tunnel. He needed to get out.

 

He aimed his palms at the ground. "Repel!"

 

The blast of fire against the asphalt launched Izuku backward, sliding him across the concrete like a skater on ice. He created distance, keeping his eyes locked on the villain.

 

The villain surged forward again, forming multiple tendrils, attempting to box Izuku in. "Stand still! I just need your meat suit!"

 

Izuku took another deep breath, feeling the temperature in his core rising dangerously. He brought his arms back, preparing to unleash a massive, wide-area blast to scatter the villain completely, regardless of the bridge.

 

But before he could unleash the fire, the manhole cover behind the villain exploded outward, sent flying into the ceiling of the tunnel with a deafening CLANG.

 

A massive figure erupted from the sewers, landing with a ground-shaking thud. The shadows of the tunnel seemed to flee from him. He stood over seven feet tall, a mountain of bulging muscle clad in a simple white t-shirt and cargo pants. Two golden tufts of hair stood up on his head like rabbit ears.

 

"Fear not, young man!" the figure bellowed, his voice echoing with an impossible, booming resonance that Izuku knew better than his own name. "For I am here!"

 

Izuku gasped, his flames dying instantly. "All... All Might?!"

 

The Sludge Villain turned, its yellow eyes widening in sheer terror. "You! How did you find me?!"

 

"Texas..." All Might pulled his massive right arm back. The sheer physical pressure of the movement created a localized vacuum, drawing the stagnant air of the tunnel toward his fist. "...SMASH!"

 

All Might threw the punch. He didn't even make physical contact with the villain. The sheer wind pressure generated by the strike hit the Sludge Villain like a solid wall of air. The villain’s fluid body was instantly pulverized, splattering into a thousand tiny droplets across the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. The wind force was so intense it hit Izuku a second later, blowing him off his feet and sending him tumbling backward.

 

Izuku hit the ground, rolling to dissipate the momentum. He scrambled to his knees, coughing as the dust and wind settled.

 

When he looked up, the tunnel was quiet. The villain was reduced to harmless puddles of sludge. And standing there, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight cutting through the end of the tunnel, was his idol. The Symbol of Peace.

 

All Might turned to Izuku, a massive, gleaming smile on his face. He was holding two large plastic soda bottles, rapidly scooping the scattered sludge into them.

 

"I apologize for getting you caught up in my villain hunt, young man!" All Might boomed, capping the second bottle tightly and holding it up. "But thanks to your excellent evasive maneuvers, I was able to secure the target without any civilian casualties! Well done!"

 

Izuku was vibrating. He was literally shaking. It was him. It was really him. He had spent his entire life analyzing this man, idolizing him, dreaming of standing beside him.

 

"All Might..." Izuku breathed, scrambling to his feet. He looked around frantically. "My notebook! I need an autograph!"

 

He spotted his battered notebook lying on the ground a few feet away. He lunged for it, picking it up, only to find that All Might had already signed it across a massive two-page spread in bold, looping English letters.

 

"He's so fast!" Izuku yelled, bowing repeatedly. "Thank you! Thank you so much! This will be a family heirloom! I'll pass it down for generations!"

 

"Ah, haha! A bit much, but you're welcome!" All Might said, patting his pockets to ensure the bottles were secure. He gave a thumbs-up. "Now, I must be off! I need to deliver this fellow to the authorities! Stay out of trouble, young man!"

 

All Might crouched, his immense leg muscles tensing. The concrete spider-webbed beneath his feet.

 

"Wait!" Izuku called out.

 

All Might paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Yes? Make it quick, I'm afraid I'm on a tight schedule!"

 

Izuku didn't ask the question he had formulated when he was a terrified four-year-old before the clinic. He didn't need to ask if he could be a hero. He already knew he could. But standing here, in the presence of the man who held the entire country on his shoulders, Izuku realized there was something else he desperately needed to know.

 

"All Might," Izuku said, his voice steadying, his emerald eyes locking onto the hero's shadowed gaze. "How... how do you handle the pressure? My Quirk... it's strong. I know it is. But sometimes, when I use it, I feel like I'm burning myself alive. I feel like if I push too hard, I'll destroy myself before I can save anyone. How do you smile when you're pushing past your limits? How do you carry the weight of being the absolute best without breaking?"

 

All Might blinked. The smile faltered, just a fraction of an inch.

 

For a brief, fleeting moment, Izuku thought he saw something in the hero's eyes. Not the invincible confidence of the Symbol of Peace, but a flash of deep, profound exhaustion. A shadow of pain.

 

All Might looked at the boy. He noted the burns on Izuku's knuckles. He had seen the green fire from the sewer grate before he burst out. He had seen the boy's tactical retreat, his calm under pressure. A fire Quirk with a kinetic repelling force. And a sharp mind. He's a bright one.

 

"Young man," All Might said, his voice dropping slightly, losing some of its theatrical boom. "The smile... is a mask. It's a cape I wear to trick the fear inside me. Pro heroes are always putting their lives on the line. We push past our limits because there are people who need us to. If you fear the heat of your own power, you must remember why you ignited it in the first place."

 

All Might turned fully back around, pointing a massive finger at Izuku's chest. "You control the fire, young man. Do not let it control you. Remember who you are trying to save, and the heat will never be too much to bear."

 

Izuku stared, the words carving themselves into his very soul. Remember why you ignited it.

 

"Now!" All Might boomed, his smile returning in full force. "I really must go! A pro is always pushing forward! PLUS ULTRA!"

 

With a deafening sonic boom, All Might launched himself into the sky, leaving a crater in the concrete and a massive gust of wind in his wake.

 

Izuku watched him go, a sense of profound clarity washing over him. He gripped his notebook tightly. He knew what he had to do. He had to keep training. He had to get to U.A.

 

He didn't notice that, in the explosive force of All Might's takeoff, one of the plastic soda bottles had slipped from the hero's cargo pocket, plummeting into the city below.

 

 

 

Izuku was walking through the shopping district of Tatooin Station when he heard the explosion.

 

It was a deep, concussive BOOM that rattled the windows of the storefronts and sent a flock of pigeons scattering into the sky. It was immediately followed by the sounds of screaming, shattering glass, and the wail of sirens.

 

Izuku’s hero instincts kicked in instantly. He broke into a sprint, weaving through the panicked crowds of civilians fleeing the area. "Excuse me! Coming through! Is it a villain?"

 

He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, his eyes widening in horror at the scene before him.

 

Tatooin Shopping Arcade was a war zone. Several buildings were engulfed in roaring orange flames. Black smoke billowed into the sky, choking the air. A massive crowd had gathered at a safe distance, held back by a perimeter of pro heroes.

 

Izuku pushed his way to the front of the crowd, peering over the shoulder of a tall man.

 

In the center of the flaming alleyway was the Sludge Villain. It had reformed, massive and towering, its gelatinous body whipping wildly, destroying everything in its path.

 

The Sludge Villain? Izuku's mind raced, panic gripping his chest. But All Might caught him! Did he... did he drop him? Was it when he jumped from the tunnel? Did I distract him?!

 

A wave of guilt slammed into Izuku, nearly bringing him to his knees. This is my fault.

 

But as he looked closer, the guilt was replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.

 

The Sludge Villain wasn't just rampaging. It had a hostage. Trapped within the suffocating, viscous mass of the villain was a boy in a black school uniform. The boy was thrashing violently, his hands desperately trying to pry the sludge away from his mouth and nose. Every time his hands broke free, massive, concussive explosions erupted from his palms, blasting the surrounding buildings and fueling the fires.

 

Ash-blonde hair. Crimson eyes, wide with panic and rage.

 

Kacchan.

 

Izuku stopped breathing. Katsuki was suffocating. He was being drowned from the inside out, his powerful Quirk being used against him by the villain.

 

"Why aren't the heroes doing anything?!" Izuku yelled, looking around frantically.

 

Death Arms, a hero with immense physical strength, was gripping his head in frustration. "There's no way to grab the villain without getting caught in those explosions! The kid's Quirk is going haywire!"

 

Kamui Woods was trying to approach, but the roaring fires were keeping him at bay. "My wood will ignite instantly in this heat! I can't get close!"

 

Mt. Lady was standing at the edge of the arcade, looking useless. "I need at least a two-lane street to use my gigantification! There's not enough room!"

 

"We just have to wait for someone with a suitable Quirk!" another hero yelled. "Damage control until then! Keep the civilians back!"

 

Wait? Izuku thought, his eyes locked on Katsuki's face. Wait for what? He's dying right now!

 

Katsuki’s eyes met Izuku’s through the crowd. In that single, fleeting moment, Izuku didn't see the arrogant, fiery rival who promised to crush him. He saw a fourteen-year-old boy, drowning in sludge, silently begging for help.

 

Before Izuku’s conscious mind could even process a decision, his legs moved.

 

He vaulted over the police barricade, ignoring the shouts of the pro heroes behind him.

 

"Hey! Kid! Get back here! Are you crazy?!" Death Arms roared, reaching for him.

 

But Izuku was already gone. He was sprinting straight into the inferno, his red shoes pounding against the shattered pavement. The heat of the surrounding fires licked at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat already building in his core.

 

I don't have a plan. I don't know what I'm doing. But I can't let him die!

 

"You!" The Sludge Villain spotted Izuku charging forward, its yellow eyes narrowing in recognition and hatred. "The brat with the fire! You want to be a hero?! Die with him!"

 

The villain whipped a massive tendril of sludge directly at Izuku’s head.

 

Izuku didn't dodge. He didn't have time.

 

"Comet: Repel!" Izuku screamed.

 

He didn't fire from his hands. He channeled the green flames into his right foot, stomping down hard onto the asphalt as he ran. The localized kinetic explosion launched Izuku horizontally, turning his forward sprint into a terrifying, high-speed glide just inches above the ground, ducking cleanly under the villain's tendril.

 

Izuku skidded to a halt directly in front of the massive sludge monster, just a few feet away from where Katsuki was trapped.

 

"Deku...!" Katsuki managed to gurgle, his eyes wide in disbelief.

 

"Hold your breath, Kacchan!" Izuku roared.

 

Izuku planted his feet wide, bracing his body for the immense physical toll he was about to endure. He extended both hands forward, fingers splayed wide, aiming directly at the center of the Sludge Villain's mass, right where Katsuki was buried.

 

He needed to get the sludge off Katsuki's mouth. He couldn't use Repel, or he would blast Katsuki back with the villain. He had to use the other half of his power. The dangerous half.

 

Izuku drew in a massive breath, his chest expanding. The green fire erupted from his palms, but it didn't shoot forward like a blast. Instead, it formed a swirling, vortex-like sphere of emerald light hovering just between his hands. The air around him warped, a high-pitched hum drowning out the sound of the roaring fires.

 

"Comet: ATTRACT!"

 

The gravitational pull activated with terrifying violence.

 

The Sludge Villain shrieked as a massive chunk of its liquid body was violently yanked forward, defying gravity, sucked directly toward the green vortex in Izuku’s hands.

 

"No! My host!" the villain screamed, trying to pull back.

 

But Izuku’s pull was localized, precise. He wasn't pulling the whole villain; he was pulling the sludge off Katsuki's face.

 

The viscous liquid ripped away from Katsuki's mouth and nose, flying through the air and splattering against Izuku's chest and arms. Katsuki gasped, taking in a massive, ragged breath of air, coughing violently.

 

"Get him... out...!" Katsuki coughed, explosions still popping involuntarily from his hands.

 

"I'm trying!" Izuku gritted his teeth. The strain was agonizing. Every pound of sludge he pulled toward himself exerted an equal physical force pushing him forward. He felt his boots sliding on the pavement, dragging him closer to the villain. His shoulders screamed in protest, feeling like they were being ripped from their sockets. The heat in his chest was becoming unbearable, his throat parched, his vision blurring.

 

Push past it! Remember why you ignited it!

 

"You little pest!" The Sludge Villain roared, raising two massive tendrils to crush Izuku from above. "I'll squash you both!"

 

"Hey, ugly!" Katsuki yelled. With his airways clear, the explosive teen raised his right hand, pointing his palm directly into the villain's left eye.

 

BOOM!

 

A point-blank, concentrated explosion ripped through the villain's eye, causing the monster to screech in agony and reel backward. The sudden movement disrupted the villain's grip on Katsuki's legs.

 

"Now, Deku!" Katsuki screamed.

 

Izuku didn't hesitate. He shifted the polarity of his flames instantly. The green vortex in his hands vanished, replaced by a twin jet of blinding green fire.

 

"REPEL!"

 

Izuku blasted the sludge off his own chest, but more importantly, he aimed the kinetic force slightly downward, hitting the pavement in front of Katsuki. The concussive shockwave acted like a wedge, blowing the remaining sludge off Katsuki's body and simultaneously throwing both Katsuki and Izuku backward, out of the villain's grasp.

 

They hit the ground hard, tumbling over the shattered asphalt. Izuku skidded to a halt on his back, gasping for air, smoke rising from his scorched uniform. Katsuki rolled to a stop next to him, coughing up residual sludge, his school uniform torn and ruined.

 

They had done it. They had broken free.

 

But the villain wasn't dead.

 

"I'LL KILL YOU!" The Sludge Villain towered over them, enraged beyond reason. It gathered all of its remaining mass, forming a massive, tidal wave of sludge, poised to crash down and crush both boys into the pavement.

 

Izuku tried to raise his arms, but his muscles locked up. He had used too much fire. He had overheated. He was completely out of oxygen. Katsuki was similarly exhausted, his palms smoking, unable to spark another explosion.

 

They lay side by side, the Twin Stars of Aldera, staring up at their impending death.

 

"Guess... we're ending in a tie, nerd," Katsuki wheezed, glaring defiantly at the descending wave.

 

Izuku managed a weak, exhausted smile. "Yeah... guess so."

 

But the wave never hit them.

 

Suddenly, a figure appeared between the boys and the villain. It was as if he had teleported, materializing out of the smoke and fire.

 

The figure grabbed Katsuki’s wrist with his left hand, and Izuku’s collar with his right, yanking them both backward with impossible speed, sliding them out of the impact zone just as the sludge crashed against the concrete.

 

Izuku blinked through his blurry vision, looking up at the towering, muscular back of the man standing before them. The white t-shirt. The golden hair.

 

"All... Might...?" Izuku whispered.

 

All Might stood there, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looked furious. But beneath the fury, there was something else. Profound shame.

 

I am pathetic, All Might thought, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles popped. I lectured this boy about what it means to be a hero, about pushing past limits. And yet, I stood in the crowd, crippled by my own time limit, making excuses, watching as a middle schooler risked his life to do my job.

 

All Might turned his head slightly, looking back at Izuku and Katsuki.

 

"Pro heroes are always risking their lives!" All Might roared, his voice echoing over the roar of the flames, directed as much at himself as at the villain. "You boys have taught me a valuable lesson today! A true hero doesn't make excuses!"

 

All Might stepped forward, crossing his massive arms in front of his chest. The air pressure around him shifted, drawn in by the sheer density of his flexing muscles.

 

"DETROIT..."

 

The Sludge Villain froze, recognizing the impending doom. "No! Wait!"

 

All Might swung his arms outward, unleashing a downward cross-chop. "...SMASH!"

 

The impact was cataclysmic.

 

The sheer force of the air pressure didn't just pulverize the villain. It created a localized tornado that ripped through the alleyway. The roaring fires on the buildings were snuffed out instantly, blown away by the shockwave. The clouds above Tatooin Station were physically split apart, parted by the updraft of the smash.

 

For a moment, there was absolute silence. Then, a gentle rain began to fall from the parted clouds, extinguishing the final embers of the fire.

 

The crowd was dead silent. The pro heroes stood with their jaws on the ground.

 

Izuku lay on the wet pavement, the rain cooling his overheated skin. He stared up at the sky, his chest heaving, listening to the deafening roar of cheers that suddenly erupted from the crowd.

 

All Might stood victorious in the center of the rain, striking a triumphant pose.

 

He's incredible, Izuku thought, his eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion finally claimed him. The greatest hero in the world.

 

 

 

The aftermath of the Sludge Villain incident was chaotic. The authorities arrived to scoop up the scattered villain, and paramedics rushed in to treat the wounded.

 

Izuku and Katsuki were forced to sit on the back of an ambulance, draped in foil thermal blankets. They were surrounded by a gaggle of pro heroes.

 

"You're a madman, kid!" Death Arms scolded Izuku, though there was a grudging respect in his tone. "Running into a fire like that without a plan? You could have been killed!"

 

"He's right," Kamui Woods agreed. "But... I have to admit, your Quirk control in that situation was remarkable. Using kinetic repulsion to slide under the attack, and localized attraction to peel the villain off the hostage? That's high-level tactical thinking. What's your name, boy?"

 

"Midoriya, sir. Izuku Midoriya," he answered, bowing his head respectfully.

 

"Well, Midoriya. When you get your provisional license, look up my agency. We could use someone with your kind of firepower."

 

A few feet away, Katsuki was being praised by Mt. Lady and a few other heroes for his incredible Quirk and endurance, though the explosive boy looked thoroughly annoyed by the attention, glaring at the ground.

 

Eventually, the boys were cleared to leave. The sun was setting, casting a warm, orange glow over the city as they walked home together in silence. The adrenaline had faded, leaving them both battered, bruised, and aching.

 

They walked side by side, the familiar route taking them past the riverside park.

 

Izuku was lost in thought, dissecting the events of the day, wondering how he could have used his Quirk more efficiently. He didn't notice Katsuki stop walking until he was a few paces ahead.

 

Izuku turned around. "Kacchan?"

 

Katsuki stood there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his uniform stained with soot and grime. He stared at the ground for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight.

 

"I didn't need your help," Katsuki finally said, his voice quiet, devoid of its usual booming arrogance.

 

Izuku blinked. "I know. But you looked like you were in trouble."

 

"I was fine!" Katsuki snapped, looking up, his crimson eyes blazing. "I had it under control! I would have blown that bastard to kingdom come eventually! I didn't ask you to come charging in there with your flashy green fire, acting like some kind of savior!"

 

Izuku didn't argue. He just watched his rival, waiting for the real point.

 

Katsuki let out a frustrated breath, kicking a pebble into the river. He looked at Izuku, the fierce, feral rivalry returning to his gaze.

 

"But... you moved," Katsuki muttered, almost to himself. He pointed a finger at Izuku. "Don't think this makes you better than me, Deku. You hear me? You pulled off one lucky move today. But at U.A., I'm going to prove that my explosions are superior to your gravity tricks. I'm going to be Number One, and you're going to be looking at my back."

 

Izuku smiled. It was the same smile he had given in the classroom. Calm, confident, and utterly unyielding.

 

"I'd like to see you try, Kacchan. But you're going to have to run pretty fast to stay ahead of a comet."

 

Katsuki scoffed, a genuine smirk breaking through his scowl. "Whatever, nerd. Just don't die before the entrance exam."

 

Katsuki turned and walked away, his posture straightening, his pride intact.

 

Izuku watched him go, feeling a profound sense of satisfaction. They were rivals. They always would be. And they were both going to the top.

 

As Izuku turned to continue his walk home, he didn't notice the massive, skeletal figure hiding in the shadows of a nearby alleyway, watching him with profound interest.

 

Toshinori Yagi, in his deflated, true form, leaned against the brick wall, coughing up a small amount of blood into a handkerchief. He watched the green-haired boy walk away, his mind racing.

 

Izuku Midoriya. A boy with a powerful, versatile Quirk. A boy with the tactical mind of a seasoned pro. And most importantly, a boy whose body moved before he even had a chance to think when someone was in danger.

 

Toshinori looked down at his own skeletal hands. The embers of One For All were dying inside him. He needed a successor. He needed someone who possessed the true heart of a hero.

 

He has the heart, Toshinori thought, a fond smile crossing his gaunt face. He possesses the spark of a true hero. If things were different... he would have been a perfect candidate.

 

But Toshinori shook his head slowly. No. He already has his own power. His own path to forge. He doesn't need One For All to become great. Giving him this burden on top of his own heavy Quirk might destroy him.

 

Toshinori’s mind drifted to the recommendation his former sidekick, Sir Nighteye, had given him just a few days prior. A blonde third-year at U.A. High. A boy named Mirio Togata, who possessed a nearly uncontrollable permeation Quirk, but countered it with an unbreakable spirit and a smile that shone like the sun.

 

Nighteye is right, Toshinori decided, stepping out of the shadows and turning toward the train station. Mirio Togata is the one who needs this power to complete his potential. Young Midoriya... he will reach the top on his own two feet.

 

As Toshinori walked away, Izuku Midoriya continued his trek home, entirely unaware of the invisible mantle that had just passed over him. He didn't know about One For All, or All For One, or the secret wars fought in the shadows of the superhuman society.

 

All Izuku knew was that tomorrow, he had to wake up at 5:00 AM. He had ten months before the U.A. Entrance Exam. Ten months to increase his lung capacity, ten months to master the kinetic pull of his flames, and ten months to prepare himself to stand on the greatest stage in the world.

 

The spark had been ignited. And soon, the entire world would feel the heat of the Comet.

 

The air at Dagobah Municipal Beach Park tasted of salt, rust, and the acrid sting of ozone. For most of the residents of Musutafu, the beach was a blight on the coastline—an illegal dumping ground where the city’s discarded appliances, crushed vehicles, and rotting furniture went to die. But for fourteen-year-old Izuku Midoriya, it was a sanctuary. It was a crucible.

 

It was a Tuesday evening in November, five months before the U.A. High School entrance exam. The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised shades of purple and orange, but the beach was illuminated by a completely different light.

 

A brilliant, blinding flash of emerald green erupted from the center of the trash heaps.

 

"Comet: Attract!"

 

Izuku stood in the sand, his feet planted shoulder-width apart, his knees deeply bent in a reinforced horse stance. He was stripped to the waist, his lean, heavily corded muscles gleaming with sweat in the cool evening air. Faint, jagged white scars crisscrossed his forearms and chest—the permanent tally marks of a Quirk that demanded a steep price for its use.

 

He thrust his right hand forward. A concentrated, swirling vortex of green fire ignited in his palm. It hummed with a deep, vibrating resonance that made the sand around his feet dance.

 

Fifty yards away, a rusted-out, two-ton pickup truck groaned. The metal shrieked as an invisible, localized gravitational tether locked onto its chassis.

 

Brace, Izuku commanded himself, his teeth gritted in a feral grimace. Newton's Third Law. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. If I pull two tons, two tons pulls me.

 

He didn't want to move the truck. He wanted to anchor himself against it. He dialed up the heat. The green fire roared, the temperature around him spiking instantly. His core felt like he had swallowed a live coal.

 

Pull!

 

The invisible tether snapped taut. The sheer kinetic force of the "Attract" command hit Izuku like a freight train. The sand beneath his feet exploded outward, turning to glass from the heat of his flames as he was violently yanked forward. He didn't resist the pull; he used it. He flew through the air, completely horizontal, moving at the speed of a fired cannonball directly toward the rusted truck.

 

He crossed the fifty yards in less than two seconds. The truck loomed massive in his vision. If he hit it at this speed, every bone in his upper body would shatter.

 

At the last possible microsecond, Izuku snapped his right hand shut, extinguishing the green vortex, and whipped his left hand out, palm flat against the air.

 

"Repel!"

 

A concussive shockwave of emerald fire blasted from his left hand, striking the broadside of the truck. The explosive kinetic force acted as a brake, instantly canceling his forward momentum. But the force was so immense that the two-ton truck was physically lifted off the sand, flipped backward into the air, and sent crashing into a pile of washing machines with a deafening, metallic screech.

 

Izuku dropped out of the air, landing perfectly on his feet. He immediately hunched over, his hands resting on his knees as he coughed violently.

 

Plumes of white steam escaped his lips with every cough. His skin was flushed a dangerous, feverish red. The air entering his lungs felt razor-sharp, his throat parched beyond belief.

 

"Forty-five... seconds," Izuku wheezed, looking at the stopwatch hanging from his neck.

 

He reached down and grabbed a massive, two-liter hydro-flask half-buried in the sand, unscrewing the cap and downing the ice-cold water in massive gulps. The water hit his super-heated stomach and immediately turned to steam, cooling his internal temperature just enough to stop him from passing out.

 

He collapsed onto his back in the sand, staring up at the darkening sky, his chest heaving.

 

It’s not enough, he thought, wiping a smear of soot from his forehead. My mobility is getting better. Using Attract to grapple onto heavy objects and Repel to brake is viable. But the internal heat generation is too fast. If I use my Quirk at maximum output for more than sixty seconds, I'll boil my own blood.

 

His Quirk, which he had affectionately named "Comet," was a logistical nightmare. The telekinetic pull of his mother and the fire breath of his father had merged to create a kinetic, super-heated anomaly.

 

When he used Repel, he pushed objects away with a blast of force. If he aimed it at the ground, it launched him into the air. If he aimed it at a villain, it hit them like a fiery cannonball.

When he used Attract, he created a magnetic tether. If he used it on something lighter than him, it flew to his hand. If he used it on something heavier than him, he flew to it.

 

But the fire required immense amounts of oxygen, and it burned incredibly hot. The flames didn't just burn outside his body; the ignition source was internal, located right beneath his sternum. Using his Quirk was like revving an engine with a broken radiator.

 

That was why he was here. For the past five months, and for the next five months, Dagobah Beach was his forge. He wasn't just here to practice his moves. He was here to break his body down and rebuild it with a higher threshold for pain and heat. He hauled trash by hand to build raw physical power. He used his Quirk to launch himself through the air, testing his reaction times. And most dangerously, he forced himself to hold his flames active for as long as possible, deliberately inducing hyperthermia to force his cellular biology to adapt.

 

"Deku."

 

Izuku snapped his eyes open, sitting up in the sand.

 

Standing on the edge of the seawall, silhouetted against the streetlights of the city, was Katsuki Bakugo. He was wearing his middle school uniform, a dark scowl on his face, a plastic convenience store bag dangling from his hand.

 

Izuku smiled, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his t-shirt. "Hey, Kacchan. What are you doing out here? The arcade in Sector 4 is closed for renovations today."

 

Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance, leaping down from the seawall. He landed lightly in the sand, navigating the piles of crushed metal until he stood a few feet from Izuku. He threw the plastic bag at Izuku's chest.

 

Izuku caught it instinctively. Inside were four bottles of electrolyte-heavy sports drinks and a small tube of pharmaceutical-grade burn ointment.

 

"My old hag made me bring it to you," Katsuki grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away. "Auntie Inko called. She was whining that you were going to fry your brain out here and asked my mom to check on you. I drew the short straw."

 

Izuku chuckled, unscrewing one of the sports drinks and taking a long swig. "Tell Auntie Mitsuki I said thanks. And thank you too, Kacchan."

 

"Shut up," Katsuki snapped, though there was no real venom in it. He looked around the beach. The area they were standing in was completely clear of trash. Izuku had spent months incinerating the smaller debris into glass and ash, and compacting the larger appliances into neat, crushed cubes using his kinetic blasts. "You're going to turn this entire beach into a giant pane of glass before the exam."

 

"It's good practice for collateral damage control," Izuku reasoned, stretching his shoulders. "If I can control the radius of my blasts here, I can do it in a city environment."

 

Katsuki scoffed, a small, crackling explosion popping in his right palm. "You're overthinking it, as always. The entrance exam is a practical combat test. Everyone knows it. It's going to be about pure destruction. You just need to hit harder and faster than anyone else."

 

"Maybe," Izuku replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at his rival. "But if the test is a simulated city, blind destruction will deduct points. They're looking for heroes, Kacchan. Not just living bombs."

 

Katsuki’s eye twitched. He took a step forward, the temperature between them immediately rising as both of their Quirks responded to the spike in adrenaline. "Are you lecturing me, Deku? You think your little green firecrackers can out-damage my blasts?"

 

"I think," Izuku said softly, "that we're both going to break the scoring system. But only one of us is going to take first place."

 

Katsuki held Izuku’s gaze for a long, tense moment. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore seemed to fade into the background. This was the dynamic that had defined them for a decade. The Twin Stars. Two boys cursed and blessed with devastating power and ambition that eclipsed the sun.

 

Suddenly, Katsuki smirked. He turned around, kicking a divot into the sand.

 

"Ten months," Katsuki said over his shoulder. "Keep frying your lungs, Deku. But on the day of the exam, I'm going to show you the absolute difference in our ceilings."

 

"I'll be right beside you, Kacchan," Izuku called out. "Or maybe a step ahead."

 

Katsuki flipped him the bird without looking back, vaulting over the seawall and disappearing into the night.

 

Izuku stood in the sand for a moment, the sports drink cold in his hand. He looked at the burn ointment in the bag, a small, genuine smile touching his lips. Then, he set the bag down, took a deep breath, and ignited the green fire once more.

 

He had five months left. There was no time to rest.

 

 

 

Five Months Later: The Morning of the U.A. Entrance Exam.

 

The sprawling campus of U.A. High School was a monument to superhuman society. Its massive, H-shaped glass structures gleamed in the morning sun, towering over Musutafu like a fortress of modern divinity.

 

Izuku stood at the front gates, adjusting the straps of his dark green backpack. He was wearing his black Aldera Junior High uniform, though it fit him a bit tighter around the shoulders and chest than it had a year ago. Underneath his uniform, his arms were wrapped in specialized, heat-resistant compression bandages he had ordered online—a necessary precaution to keep his skin from blistering during prolonged Quirk usage.

 

He took a deep breath, savoring the cool morning air. This is it. The first step.

 

"Out of my way, Deku."

 

Izuku didn't even turn his head as Katsuki walked past him, a ferocious scowl firmly planted on his face. Katsuki’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his posture radiating a dangerous, coiled energy.

 

"Morning, Kacchan," Izuku said, falling into step beside him. "Did you sleep well?"

 

"I slept like a corpse," Katsuki growled. "I'm running purely on the desire to crush every single extra in this building."

 

"Good to know you're in a relaxed state of mind," Izuku chuckled.

 

They walked through the gates side by side, drawing a few stares from the other examinees. The Twin Stars had a bit of a local reputation, and their contrasting auras—Katsuki’s explosive hostility and Izuku’s calm, intense focus—made them stand out in the sea of nervous teenagers.

 

As they approached the main auditorium building, Katsuki sped up, clearly wanting to distance himself before the social niceties began. Izuku let him go, his eyes wandering over the architecture of the school. He was busy calculating the structural integrity of the archways when he failed to notice the raised lip of the paving stone in front of him.

 

The toe of his red boot caught the edge. Izuku’s center of gravity shifted drastically, and he pitched forward, falling directly toward the concrete.

 

His reflexes were instantaneous. His right foot instinctively ignited, preparing to fire a micro-burst of "Repel" into the ground to bounce himself back to a standing position. But before the green spark could even fully form—

 

Smack.

 

A hand grabbed the back of his jacket, and the world suddenly went weightless.

 

Izuku blinked in surprise as he realized he was floating upside down, his nose just an inch from the concrete. He wasn't falling. He was suspended in mid-air.

 

"Are you okay?!" a cheerful voice asked.

 

Izuku rotated himself in the air, finding himself face-to-face with a girl with short, bobbed brown hair and large, warm brown eyes. She was wearing a standard middle school uniform and had her hands pressed together.

 

"I stopped you with my Quirk," the girl said, her cheeks dusted with a permanent, rosy blush. "I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but I figured it would be a bad omen if you tripped on your first day!"

 

She pressed her fingers together, and the gravity returned. Izuku landed lightly on his feet, his mind rapidly processing the encounter.

 

Zero gravity? No, localized mass negation. A touch-based Emitter. Highly practical for rescue operations and heavy lifting.

 

"Thank you," Izuku said, flashing a polite, disarming smile. "I could have caught myself, but I would have scorched the pavement. You saved me a scolding from the teachers before I even got inside."

 

The girl beamed, a nervous but excited energy radiating off her. "I'm so nervous! But we're going to do our best, right? Good luck!"

 

She waved enthusiastically and hurried off toward the auditorium. Izuku watched her go, committing her Quirk to memory. In an entrance exam, knowing the capabilities of the people around you was just as important as knowing your own.

 

He took a deep breath, centering himself, and walked into the building.

 

 

 

The orientation auditorium was massive, packed with thousands of hopeful students. Izuku found his assigned seat, which, coincidentally, was right next to Katsuki. The ash-blonde boy was leaning back with his feet kicked onto the desk in front of him, looking profoundly bored.

 

The lights dimmed, and a single spotlight illuminated a podium at the front of the stage. A man with towering blonde hair, a leather jacket, and a directional speaker mounted around his neck stepped into the light.

 

"WELCOME TO MY LIVE SHOW!" Present Mic roared, his Voice Quirk echoing through the massive room. "EVERYBODY SAY HEY!"

 

Silence. Pure, unadulterated silence from the nervous students.

 

"What a refined response!" Present Mic laughed, unbothered. "Then I'll quickly present to you the rundown on the practical exam! ARE YOU READY?! YEAH!"

 

Present Mic triggered a screen behind him, displaying a map of various urban testing centers. "As it says in the application requirements, you listeners will be conducting ten-minute mock urban battles! You can bring whatever you want with you. After this presentation, you'll head to your specified battle centers!"

 

Izuku looked down at his test ticket. He was assigned to Battle Center B. He glanced at Katsuki’s ticket. Battle Center A.

 

"They're splitting us up," Izuku whispered. "Makes sense. They probably designed an algorithm to separate students from the same middle schools to prevent coordinated teamwork. They want to see individual adaptability."

 

"Tch," Katsuki scoffed. "I don't need to look at your ugly mug to get the top score anyway."

 

Present Mic continued, explaining the scoring system. There were three types of robotic villains in the city centers, worth one, two, and three points respectively. The goal was to use your Quirk to destroy them and rack up a high score.

 

"Excuse me! May I ask a question?"

 

A tall boy with dark blue hair and glasses abruptly stood up a few rows ahead of Izuku. His posture was rigid, his hand raised perfectly straight into the air.

 

"On the printout, there are four types of villains! If this is a misprint, then U.A., the most prominent school in Japan, should be ashamed of that foolish mistake!"

 

The boy then turned abruptly, pointing a stiff finger directly at Izuku.

 

"In addition, you over there with the curly hair! You've been muttering this entire time! It's distracting! If you're here on a pleasure trip, then you should leave immediately!"

 

The entire auditorium turned to look at Izuku. Katsuki let out a low, menacing growl, tiny sparks flying from his teeth, ready to blast the blue-haired boy into orbit for daring to talk down to his rival.

 

But Izuku simply placed a hand on Katsuki’s arm, calming him. Izuku didn't flinch under the gaze of a thousand students. He calmly stood up, meeting the blue-haired boy's strict gaze.

 

"My apologies if my muttering disturbed you," Izuku said, his voice clear, steady, and loud enough to be heard over the murmur of the crowd. "But I wasn't here on a pleasure trip. I was analyzing the silhouette of the fourth villain on the printout. Based on the tread design and sheer scale of the shadow compared to the one, two, and three-pointers, I deduced it must be an obstacle rather than a target. A massive, high-durability unit designed to test our situational awareness and evasion, rather than our combat prowess."

 

Izuku looked up at Present Mic. "Am I correct, sir?"

 

The blue-haired boy blinked, completely taken aback by the eloquent and hyper-analytical response.

 

Present Mic grinned, pointing a finger-gun at Izuku. "EXACTLY RIGHT, EXAMINEE NUMBER 7111! You hit the nail right on the head! The fourth villain is worth zero points! It's a massive obstacle that will rampage through close quarters! I recommend you listeners run away from it!"

 

Izuku bowed politely to the blue-haired boy. "As you can see, I was merely preparing. Best of luck in the exam." He sat back down.

 

The blue-haired boy flushed in embarrassment, bowing stiffly. "I... I apologize for my assumption! Thank you for the insight!"

 

As the boy sat down, Katsuki let out a harsh bark of laughter. "You love showing off, don't you, nerd?"

 

Izuku smirked, tapping his pen against his desk. "I just don't like being interrupted when I'm doing the math, Kacchan."

 

 

 

Thirty minutes later, Izuku stood in front of the massive metal gates of Battle Center B. He had changed into his training gear: a dark green, sleeveless combat top, reinforced black cargo pants, and his signature red boots. His arms were wrapped tightly in his heat-resistant bandages.

 

He was surrounded by hundreds of other examinees, most of whom were shaking with nerves, doing stretches, or whispering to themselves. Izuku spotted the blue-haired boy stretching his calves, and the brown-haired girl taking deep, nervous breaths near the back.

 

Izuku didn't stretch. He didn't pace. He simply stood at the very front of the crowd, his eyes locked on the seam of the giant metal doors.

 

He closed his eyes. He reached inward, finding the familiar, terrifying core of heat beneath his sternum. He breathed in deeply, fanning the flames. His body temperature began to rise. A faint, emerald green aura began to bleed from his skin, the air around him shimmering with a mirage-like distortion. The students nearest to him stepped back, alarmed by the sudden, intense wave of heat radiating from his body.

 

High up in an observation tower overlooking the mock city, the faculty of U.A. High watched the monitors.

 

"Quite a diverse crop this year," Midnight purred, crossing her legs. "Any standouts catch your eye, Eraser?"

 

Shota Aizawa, a man who looked like he hadn't slept in a decade, narrowed his eyes at one of the screens. He tapped the glass, pointing at the green-haired boy standing at the front of Center B.

 

"Midoriya Izuku," Aizawa murmured, reading the boy's file. "Quirk: Comet. A pyrokinesis mutation with localized gravitational properties. An extremely rare combination of Emitter traits."

 

"Oh! I remember him!" a booming, albeit much quieter, voice spoke up from the back of the room. Toshinori Yagi, in his skeletal true form, leaned forward. "He's the boy who held off the Sludge Villain in Tatooin Station a year ago. He has excellent combat instincts."

 

"His Quirk requires massive oxygen intake and burns incredibly hot," Aizawa noted, his analytical mind dissecting the boy's posture. "He's pre-heating his core right now. It's a dangerous strategy. If he miscalculates his thermal limits, he'll give himself heatstroke before the exam is half over. Let's see if he's a fool or a prodigy."

 

Down at the gate, Present Mic's voice suddenly blasted from the loudspeakers.

 

"START!"

 

Most of the students hesitated, waiting for a countdown or a buzzer.

 

Izuku didn't.

 

Before the word fully echoed off the concrete walls, Izuku lunged forward.

 

"Comet: Attract!"

 

A blinding green flame erupted from his right hand. The gravitational tether shot forward, locking onto the steel balcony of a three-story building fifty yards down the main street.

 

The students gasped as the green-haired boy was violently yanked off his feet, rocketing horizontally through the air like a fired missile, leaving a trail of emerald sparks in his wake.

 

"What are you waiting for?!" Present Mic yelled. "There are no countdowns in real battles! RUN, RUN, RUN!"

 

The crowd surged forward, but Izuku was already in the combat zone.

 

As Izuku hurtled toward the balcony, a massive, one-wheeled robot—a One-Pointer—rolled out of an alleyway, its red optical sensor locking onto him.

 

"Target acquired," the robot droned, raising a mounted cannon.

 

Izuku didn't even blink. Mid-flight, traveling at forty miles an hour, he dropped the gravitational tether, instantly stopping his forward momentum. As gravity took hold and he began to fall toward the street, he twisted his body, whipping his right leg around in a vicious roundhouse kick aimed downward.

 

"Comet: Repel!"

 

A concussive shockwave of green fire blasted from the sole of his red boot. The kinetic force hit the One-Pointer like a meteor. The robot’s chassis caved in instantly, the metal shrieking as it was blown backward, crashing into the concrete wall of a building and exploding into a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

 

Izuku landed perfectly on the street, his momentum entirely canceled by the blast.

 

One point.

 

He didn't stop moving. He heard the whirring of gears to his left. Two Two-Pointers were flanking him.

 

Izuku took a deep breath, his chest burning. He aimed both palms at the ground. "Repel!"

 

The blast launched him straight up into the air, clearing the robots' firing lines. As he reached the apex of his jump, thirty feet in the air, he looked down. The robots were tracking him, aiming upward.

 

Izuku smiled, a fierce, feral expression. He crossed his arms over his chest, channeling the heat into his forearms.

 

"Comet Smash: Twin Meteor!"

 

He threw his arms outward, unleashing two simultaneous blasts of repelling green fire. The kinetic shockwaves hammered into the robots below, flattening them against the asphalt like tin cans under a hydraulic press.

 

Five points.

 

Izuku used a micro-burst of fire from his boots to cushion his landing. He immediately broke into a sprint, his eyes scanning the urban layout.

 

In the observation room, Aizawa leaned forward, his eyes wide.

 

"Incredible," Nezu, the principal of U.A., murmured, sipping his tea. "He's using the repelling force of his fire to mimic superhuman strength and agility. His control over the kinetic output is precise to the millimeter."

 

"He's not just relying on raw power," Aizawa noted, a hint of respect entering his voice. "He's using the urban environment. Look at his eyes. He's plotting ricochets, calculating anchor points for his gravitational pull. He's treating this like a geometry puzzle."

 

Back in the mock city, Izuku was a green blur of destruction. He was moving too fast for the other students to even comprehend. He would use "Attract" to slingshot himself around street corners, ripping the weapons out of robots' hands before blasting them into scrap metal with "Repel."

 

He was a hurricane of kinetic fire.

 

Twenty-five points. Thirty points. Forty-two points.

 

The heat in his core was becoming a physical weight, pressing against his lungs. He was sweating profusely, the water evaporating off his skin as steam the moment it appeared. Every breath felt like swallowing shards of hot glass. But the adrenaline of the exam, the sheer thrill of using his Quirk without holding back, pushed him forward.

 

He vaulted over a destroyed Three-Pointer, landing near a small group of students. The brown-haired girl with the gravity Quirk was touching robots, making them float, before releasing them to crash to the ground. The blue-haired boy was using engine-like appendages in his calves to deliver devastating, high-speed kicks.

 

They were doing well, but the time was running out.

 

"Two minutes remaining!" Present Mic announced.

 

Izuku leaned against a brick wall, panting heavily. He had fifty-five points. It was a solid score. Enough to pass, surely. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small, specialized inhaler, taking a hit of concentrated, super-cooled oxygen to soothe his burning lungs.

 

He was just about to head down another alleyway to hunt for stragglers when the ground began to shake.

 

It wasn't a minor tremor. The asphalt beneath his boots cracked. A shadow fell over the mock city, eclipsing the morning sun.

 

Izuku looked up.

 

Rising from the center of the testing ground was a mechanical leviathan. The Zero-Pointer. It was the size of a skyscraper, a hulking mass of olive-drab steel and glowing red optics. Its massive tank treads pulverized the buildings as it moved, raising a blinding cloud of dust and debris.

 

With a deafening mechanical roar, the Zero-Pointer slammed its massive fist into a nearby building, shattering it like glass.

 

The examinees screamed in terror, dropping their weapons and scrambling away, fleeing the monster.

 

"It's huge!"

"Run! It's the Zero-Pointer!"

 

Izuku stared at the behemoth. His analytical mind immediately kicked in. That thing has to weigh thousands of tons. It's a pure obstacle. There is no tactical advantage to fighting it. The most logical choice is retreat.

 

He turned to run, following the crowd. He took two steps before he heard it.

 

"Ow... it hurts..."

 

Izuku froze. His heart stopped.

 

He whipped his head around, scanning the debris cloud. Near the base of the rampage, beneath a massive slab of concrete rubble dislodged by the robot's advance, was the brown-haired girl. Her leg was pinned. She was struggling weakly, looking up in sheer terror as the massive tank treads of the Zero-Pointer rolled relentlessly toward her.

 

Nobody else saw her. Everyone else was running.

 

Izuku didn't think. The same instinct that had launched him at the Sludge Villain a year ago hijacked his nervous system.

 

He spun around and sprinted directly toward the colossal machine.

 

"What is he doing?!" Midnight gasped in the observation room, standing up from her chair.

 

"He's going to get himself killed," Aizawa muttered, his hand drifting toward the abort button on the console.

 

Izuku’s mind was moving at lightspeed, processing variables and calculating vectors.

 

I can't use Attract to pull her out. The rubble is too heavy. The kinetic force will either crush her leg or pull me into the rubble. I have to destroy the target.

 

He looked up at the towering head of the Zero-Pointer, hundreds of feet in the air.

 

I can't blast it from the ground. I need to hit its center of mass. I need to get up there.

 

Izuku sprinted through the fleeing crowd, his eyes locked on the robot. He reached deep inside himself, past the pain, past the burning in his lungs, finding the absolute deepest reserve of his Quirk.

 

He didn't just fan the flames; he poured gasoline on them.

 

His body erupted in a blinding, terrifying aura of emerald fire. The heat-resistant bandages on his arms began to singe and smoke. The concrete beneath his feet melted into slag as he ran.

 

"COMET: OVERDRIVE!" Izuku roared, his voice distorted by the sheer volume of air he was pulling into his lungs.

 

He didn't target the robot. He targeted the apex of the tallest building standing next to it.

 

He thrust his left hand out. A beam of green fire, thick as a tree trunk, slammed into the roof of the building, anchoring there with the force of a black hole.

 

"ATTRACT!"

 

The resulting pull didn't just yank Izuku into the air. It launched him like a railgun projectile. He broke the sound barrier, a sonic boom shattering the remaining windows on the street as his body was violently ripped into the sky, rocketing upward at an impossible angle.

 

The G-force threatened to snap his spine, but his reinforced muscles held. He soared past the waist of the robot, past its chest, hurtling directly toward its massive, glowing red optical center.

 

As he reached the apex of his flight, suspended in the air right in front of the machine's face, he severed the tether.

 

Time seemed to slow down. Izuku hung in the sky, a tiny, glowing speck against the colossal metal giant.

 

He drew his right leg back, twisting his hips, channeling every single ounce of heat, fire, and kinetic energy his body possessed into his heel. The green flames wrapping around his leg turned white-hot, humming with a devastating, catastrophic resonance.

 

The Zero-Pointer raised a massive hand to swat him out of the sky.

 

Izuku didn't flinch. His eyes burned with the absolute, unyielding resolve of a hero.

 

"COMET SMASH..."

 

He whipped his leg forward, driving his heel squarely into the steel plating of the robot's face.

 

"METEOR!"

 

He unleashed the Repel.

 

It wasn't a blast. It was an apocalyptic shockwave.

 

A sphere of blinding green kinetic energy erupted from the point of impact, expanding with the force of a tactical warhead. The sheer concussive pressure hit the Zero-Pointer with millions of pounds of force.

 

The steel plating of the robot's face shattered into a million pieces. The kinetic wave traveled through its chassis, buckling its internal support struts, ripping its joints apart from the inside out.

 

The machine let out a deafening, metallic shriek as its upper half was physically blown backward by the blast, separating from its treads. The colossal upper torso flew backward, crashing down into the empty sector of the city, away from the trapped girl, exploding in a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke.

 

The wind pressure from the blast swept through the streets, knocking the fleeing students off their feet.

 

In the observation room, complete and utter silence reigned. The monitors flickered and died, overloaded by the electromagnetic interference of the blast.

 

All Might stood frozen, his skeletal hands gripping the railing tight enough to bend the metal. My god, he thought, his heart hammering in his chest. That wasn't just power. That was the raw, unrestrained desire to save a life.

 

High above the city, the shockwave faded.

 

Izuku’s body went limp. The white-hot fire extinguished instantly.

 

The recoil of the blast had shattered his right leg. His combat pants were incinerated below the knee, the skin heavily blistered despite the bandages. But worse was the internal damage. He coughed, a spray of hot, boiling blood escaping his lips. He had pushed his core temperature far past the breaking point. His vision was swimming, the edges going dark.

 

He was falling. Hundreds of feet in the air, plummeting toward the concrete.

 

I can't... I can't brake, Izuku realized, his mind fuzzy, his limbs paralyzed by the thermal shock. My flames... won't ignite.

 

He closed his eyes, preparing for the impact.

 

Smack.

 

Something soft struck his cheek. The terrifying sensation of freefall vanished instantly.

 

Izuku peeled his eyes open.

 

Floating beside him, suspended in the air, was the brown-haired girl. She had somehow managed to crawl out from under the rubble, climbed atop a piece of debris, and slapped him as he fell past her.

 

She was panting heavily, looking completely exhausted. "Release..." she whispered, pressing her fingers together.

 

Gravity returned, but they were only three feet off the ground. Izuku hit the asphalt with a dull thud, his broken leg screaming in agony, but he was alive.

 

"Time's up!" Present Mic's voice blared over the speakers, followed by a loud buzzer.

 

Izuku lay on his back, staring up at the blue sky. The adrenaline crashed, and the pain hit him like a tidal wave. His lungs felt like they were filled with acid. His leg throbbed with a sickening rhythm.

 

But as he turned his head and saw the brown-haired girl sitting safely on the ground, breathing heavily but alive, a small, genuine smile cracked across his soot-stained face.

 

I saved her, he thought, right before the darkness finally pulled him under.

 

 

 

Izuku didn't wake up until he was in the U.A. infirmary.

 

The smell of sterile alcohol instantly brought him back to the day he discovered his Quirk. He sat up with a gasp, wincing as a sharp pain lanced through his ribs.

 

"Easy now, sunny boy," a crotchety voice scolded.

 

Izuku looked down to see a small, elderly woman in a nurse's outfit brandishing a syringe. Recovery Girl. The backbone of U.A. High.

 

"Your leg is healed," Recovery Girl said, tapping his shin with her cane. "But you've got second-degree internal burns in your esophagus and bronchial tubes. I sped up your cellular regeneration, but thermal damage like that is tricky. You've essentially slow-cooked your own insides."

 

Izuku grimaced, his throat feeling incredibly raw. "I... I went over my limit. I had to."

 

"I know you had to, but if you make a habit of it, you won't live to see twenty-five," she chastised, though her eyes were kind. She handed him a small cup of water and a handful of gummy bears. "Sugar. Rebuild your stamina. You're free to go home, but I suggest you take it easy for the next few days."

 

Izuku thanked her profusely, bowing his head. He changed back into his school uniform, noting the massive scorch marks on his combat gear.

 

The walk home was a blur of exhaustion. The sunset painted the city in hues of gold, a stark contrast to the violence of the exam.

 

When he opened the front door of his apartment, Inko was there, a nervous wreck. She fussed over him, crying when she saw his pale complexion, and immediately forced him into a hot bath and fed him a massive bowl of katsudon.

 

For the next week, the Midoriya household was a bubble of agonizing anticipation. Izuku didn't speak to Katsuki. He knew his rival had likely destroyed everything in his path, scoring massive villain points. Izuku had fifty-five. It was a good score, but was it enough? What if the cutoff was sixty? What if he was penalized for destroying the Zero-Pointer?

 

The answer arrived on a rainy Thursday afternoon.

 

Inko practically broke the door down, sliding into Izuku's bedroom on her knees, clutching a thick, wax-sealed envelope bearing the U.A. crest.

 

"Izuku!" she squeaked, tears already streaming down her face. "It's here! It's here!"

 

Izuku felt his heart leap into his throat. He took the envelope with trembling hands. He sat at his desk, staring at the wax seal. This was it. Ten years of blood, sweat, and fire.

 

He tore the envelope open.

 

A small metal disc fell out onto his desk. It hummed for a second before projecting a massive, high-definition hologram into the center of his room.

 

"I AM HERE AS A PROJECTION!"

 

Izuku gasped. "All Might?!"

 

The Symbol of Peace stood on the hologram, wearing a sharp yellow suit. "That's right, young Midoriya! I have recently taken a teaching position at U.A. High School! And it is my absolute pleasure to deliver your results!"

 

All Might cleared his throat, holding up a clipboard. "You passed the written exam with flying colors! Excellent work! Now, for the practical. You scored a highly impressive fifty-five villain points! A fantastic showing of Quirk control and kinetic power!"

 

Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Fifty-five. It had to be enough.

 

"However!" All Might boomed, pointing a finger directly at the camera. "That was not all! The entrance exam was not graded purely on destruction! How could a hero course reject someone who risks their life to do the right thing?!"

 

The hologram shifted, showing a video clip of the brown-haired girl walking into the judges' room.

 

“Excuse me,” the girl said on the video, looking nervous but determined. “The boy with the curly hair... the one with the green fire. Can you give him some of my points? I heard him say he only had fifty-five before he jumped. He saved me! He sacrificed his own body to destroy that giant robot! Please!”

 

Izuku felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. She had tried to give him her points.

 

"A hero course cannot reject someone who saves others!" All Might declared, the video shrinking back to him. "Rescue Points! A secondary judging criteria kept hidden to test the true spirit of the examinees!"

 

The screen flashed, displaying a scoreboard.

 

"Uraraka Ochaco: Forty-five rescue points!" All Might announced.

 

"And Midoriya Izuku! For putting his life on the line against an insurmountable foe... TWENTY RESCUE POINTS!"

 

Izuku’s eyes widened, doing the math instantly. Fifty-five plus twenty.

 

Seventy-five points.

 

"With a total of seventy-five points," All Might smiled warmly, "you have passed the exam, Young Midoriya. In fact... you tied for first place!"

 

The scoreboard expanded. At the very top, in bold letters, were two names, sitting side-by-side with identical scores of 75.

 

1. Midoriya Izuku (55 Villain, 20 Rescue)

1. Bakugo Katsuki (75 Villain, 0 Rescue)

 

Izuku stared at the names. He and Katsuki. The Twin Stars. They had conquered the exam, sitting at the absolute pinnacle of their generation.

 

"Welcome, Midoriya Izuku," All Might said softly, holding out a hand. "This is your hero academia."

 

The hologram clicked off.

 

The room was silent, save for the sound of the rain beating against the window.

 

Izuku slowly stood up from his desk. He looked at his scarred hands, clenching them into tight fists. A small, bright green spark flared between his knuckles, humming with anticipation.

 

He turned to his mother, who was currently a sobbing, proud mess on the floor.

 

"Mom," Izuku said, a blinding, confident smile breaking across his face. "I'm going to U.A."

 

The alarm clock beside Izuku Midoriya’s bed didn’t even have a chance to ring. At 5:00 AM sharp, a calloused, scarred hand reached out from beneath the blankets and clicked the switch to ‘off’.

 

Izuku sat up, the early morning light filtering through the crack in his curtains, painting his room in a soft, hazy blue. He took a deep breath, grounding himself. He didn't ignite his flames, but he reached inward, feeling the familiar, dormant heat resting just beneath his sternum. It was steady. It was waiting.

 

Today was his first day at U.A. High School.

 

He threw off the covers and moved through his morning routine with military precision. He went for a light three-mile jog, enough to get his blood pumping and his lungs expanding, but nowhere near enough to raise his core temperature to dangerous levels. When he returned, he showered in freezing cold water, a habit he had developed to shock his system and build his thermal tolerance.

 

When he finally pulled on the gray blazer, white button-down, and red tie of the U.A. uniform, he stood in front of his mirror for a long time. The uniform was pristine, a stark contrast to the faded, scorch-marked workout gear he had practically lived in for the last ten months. He looked at the reflection of his own emerald eyes. They were harder now, focused and sharp.

 

"Izuku! Breakfast is ready!" his mother called from the kitchen.

 

"Coming, Mom!"

 

Breakfast was a flurry of nervous energy from Inko, who couldn't stop taking pictures, and a calm, quiet anticipation from Izuku. When he finally stepped out the front door, his mother grabbed his hand.

 

"Izuku," Inko said, her eyes welling up with happy tears. "I'm so proud of you. You're really doing it."

 

"I am, Mom. Thanks to you," he smiled warmly, giving her a tight hug. "I'll see you this afternoon."

 

The walk to U.A. felt different this time. He wasn't a nervous applicant hoping to prove his worth; he was a student, an equal among the absolute elite of his generation. As the towering, H-shaped glass structure of the school came into view, Izuku’s heart beat a little faster.

 

Finding Class 1-A took a bit of navigating through the labyrinthine corridors, but eventually, he stood before a massive door that looked like it belonged on a bank vault. The words 1-A were painted in bold red letters across the wood.

 

Izuku took a breath and slid the heavy door open.

 

"Take your feet off that desk this instant!"

 

The loud, booming reprimand echoed through the classroom before Izuku had even fully stepped inside. He peeked through the doorway and couldn't help but sigh.

 

Standing stiffly in the aisle, chopping the air with a rigid hand, was Tenya Iida, the boy with the engine calves from the entrance exam. And sitting at the desk, his feet kicked up, a terrifying scowl on his face, was Katsuki Bakugo.

 

"It's an insult to the great alumni of U.A. and the craftsmen who made this desk!" Iida barked, his glasses flashing in the fluorescent light.

 

"Huh?" Katsuki leaned back, sparking a tiny, menacing explosion in his right palm. "What middle school are you from, you extra? You wanna try and make me?"

 

"I-I am from Somei Private Academy! My name is Tenya Iida!"

 

"Somei? So you're a damn elite," Katsuki sneered, his red eyes narrowing. "I'll have fun crushing you."

 

"Crushing me?! You intend to be a hero with that attitude?!" Iida gasped in horror.

 

Before the argument could escalate further, Iida caught sight of Izuku standing in the doorway. The tall boy immediately stopped his chopping motion and marched over to the front of the room.

 

"You're the boy with the green fire!" Iida declared loudly, bowing perfectly at a ninety-degree angle. "I am Tenya Iida! I must apologize! You realized there was a hidden rescue criteria in the practical exam, while I was completely blind to it! I misjudged you! You are truly superior!"

 

The classroom went quiet. Several students turned to look at Izuku. Katsuki’s eye twitched violently at the word 'superior,' his glare shifting from Iida to Izuku, burning holes into the side of Izuku's head.

 

Izuku waved his hands, offering a polite smile. "You don't need to apologize, Iida. And I didn't know about the rescue points either. I just moved when I saw someone in danger. I'm Izuku Midoriya. It's nice to officially meet you."

 

"Ah! It's you!"

 

Izuku turned to see the brown-haired girl from the entrance exam bounding into the classroom. She beamed at him, her round face radiating genuine joy.

 

"I'm so glad you passed!" she cheered, clasping her hands together. "I'm Ochaco Uraraka! That punch you did on the giant robot was amazing! Whoosh! Smash! But your leg looked so badly hurt afterward, I was really worried!"

 

"Thanks to Recovery Girl, it's good as new," Izuku smiled. "And thanks for trying to give me your points, Uraraka. That was incredibly kind of you."

 

"If you're just here to make friends, you can pack up your things and leave."

 

The voice was dry, raspy, and entirely devoid of inflection. It sounded like it came from the floor.

 

Izuku, Uraraka, and Iida looked down. Lying on the floor just outside the classroom door was a large, bright yellow sleeping bag. It shimmied upward like a massive caterpillar, and a face emerged from the top. A man with unkempt, shoulder-length black hair, severe bags under his bloodshot eyes, and a gray scarf wrapped tightly around his neck stared up at them with profound exhaustion.

 

He unzipped the sleeping bag, stepped out, and pulled a juice pouch from nowhere, taking a long sip.

 

"It took you lot eight seconds to quiet down," the man muttered, stepping up to the teacher's podium. "Time is limited. You kids are not rational enough."

 

The class stared in stunned silence.

 

He's a pro hero? Izuku thought, his mind racing through his encyclopedic knowledge of the hero billboard charts. Unkempt hair, capture weapon, relies on intimidation and stealth... Eraser Head! The underground hero!

 

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa," the man announced, pulling a set of blue tracksuits out of his sleeping bag and tossing them onto the front desk. "Nice to meet you. Change into your P.E. uniforms and head out to the grounds. We're doing a Quirk Apprehension Test."

 

 

 

The P.E. grounds were expansive, an immaculate stretch of green turf and white chalk lines baking under the mid-morning sun. Class 1-A stood in a cluster, wearing their blue and white tracksuits, looking utterly confused.

 

"A Quirk Apprehension Test?!" the class echoed in unison.

 

"What about the entrance ceremony? The orientation?" Uraraka asked, stepping forward nervously.

 

"If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events," Aizawa said coldly, turning his back to them. "U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are. That's also how the teachers run their classes. You kids have been doing these standard physical tests since elementary school, right?"

 

He held up a smartphone displaying a list of basic fitness tests: 50-meter dash, grip strength, standing long jump, softball throw.

 

"Physical tests where you weren't allowed to use your Quirks," Aizawa continued. "The country still uses averages taken from results devoid of Quirks. It's irrational. The Ministry of Education is procrastinating."

 

Aizawa turned his gaze toward the class, his dark eyes locking onto a specific student.

 

"Bakugo, you tied for first in the practical exam, didn't you? What was your best result for the softball throw in middle school?"

 

Katsuki stepped forward, a confident smirk playing on his lips. "Sixty-seven meters."

 

"Then, try doing it with your Quirk," Aizawa instructed, tossing him a baseball. "Step into the circle. As long as you don't leave it, you can do whatever you want. Don't hold back."

 

Katsuki caught the ball, rolling his shoulders as he stepped into the chalk circle. He stretched his right arm, sparks beginning to crackle in his palm. He took a deep breath, his crimson eyes locking onto the horizon.

 

I'll show them, Katsuki thought. I'll show Deku. I'll show this hobo teacher. I'm the indisputable number one.

 

Katsuki wound up, throwing his entire body weight into the pitch. Just as the ball left his fingertips, he ignited a massive, concussive explosion.

 

"DIE!" Katsuki roared.

 

The blast wave rattled the teeth of the students standing nearby. The baseball shot into the sky like a rocket, leaving a trail of black smoke in its wake, completely disappearing from view.

 

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa said lazily, holding up his smartphone as it beeped. "That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero."

 

He turned the screen toward the class. The numbers read: 705.2m.

 

The class erupted.

 

"Seven hundred meters?! Are you kidding me?!"

"That looks like so much fun!"

"We can really use our Quirks now? This is awesome!"

 

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. The air around him suddenly dropped ten degrees. The lazy, tired aura vanished, replaced by a suffocating, predatory intensity. His scarf seemed to twitch of its own accord.

 

"Fun?" Aizawa repeated softly. "You have three years to become heroes. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time? Alright. Let's make this interesting. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential... and will be punished with expulsion."

 

The silence that fell over the field was deafening.

 

"Expulsion?!" Uraraka gasped. "But it's the first day! Even if it wasn't, that's entirely unfair!"

 

"Natural disasters, massive accidents, and selfish villains," Aizawa droned, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Calamities whose time or place cannot be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness. Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you wanted to go hang out with your friends at a normal high school, you're out of luck. For the next three years, U.A. will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra. Overcome it with all you've got."

 

Izuku clenched his fists, feeling the heat rising in his chest. He's testing us. He's testing our resolve. Good. I didn't train for ten months to be average.

 

"Now," Aizawa said, his terrifying grin widening. "The demonstration is over. The real thing starts now."

 

Test 1: 50-Meter Dash

 

Izuku lined up at the starting block next to Iida.

 

Iida dropped into a perfect sprinter's stance, the exhaust pipes on his calves humming. Izuku didn't crouch. He stood perfectly upright, turning his back to the finish line.

 

"Midoriya? Are you giving up?" Iida asked, bewildered by the stance.

 

Izuku smiled, raising both hands in front of his chest, palms facing the starting line. "Not a chance, Iida. Just optimizing my vectors."

 

Aizawa raised a flag. "Ready... Go!"

 

VROOM! Iida shot forward in a blur, clearing the fifty meters in a staggering 3.04 seconds.

 

But Izuku was right behind him. The moment Aizawa shouted go, Izuku ignited both palms. "Repel!"

 

The concussive green blast didn't launch him up; it launched him straight backward. By standing backward and firing forward, he used the recoil to propel himself perfectly down the track like a hovercraft. He skated backward across the finish line in a blur of green fire and dust.

 

"3.15 seconds," the robotic voice announced.

 

"Fascinating," Aizawa muttered, scribbling on his clipboard. He has exceptional spatial awareness to navigate a track backward using localized kinetic propulsion.

 

Test 2: Grip Strength

 

Izuku couldn't use his Quirk to artificially inflate his grip strength, but ten months of hauling rusted refrigerators at Dagobah Beach had done wonders for his baseline physique. He squeezed the digital meter with all his might, scoring a highly respectable 75 kg.

 

He looked over and saw a massive boy with multiple arms, Mezo Shoji, score an astonishing 540 kg. Izuku quickly whipped out a small notebook from his tracksuit pocket and began furiously writing down notes on Shoji's muscle density.

 

Test 3: Standing Long Jump

 

Katsuki cleared the sandbox entirely with a single explosion.

 

Izuku approached the line. He channeled a micro-burst of heat into the soles of his boots. As he jumped, he fired a low-yield "Repel" straight down. The kinetic force boosted him into the air, allowing him to glide gracefully over the sand and land lightly on the grass on the other side.

 

Test 4: Repeated Side Steps

 

A short boy with purple balls for hair, Minoru Mineta, dominated this test by bouncing rapidly between his own sticky spheres. Izuku held his own using short, staccato bursts of fire from his boots to violently shift his momentum side-to-side, scoring in the top percentile.

 

Test 5: Softball Throw

 

Finally, they returned to the pitching circle. Uraraka stepped up, tapped the ball to negate its mass, and threw it lightly into the air. It kept going until it was a speck, earning a literal "Infinity" from Aizawa's device.

 

Then, it was Izuku's turn.

 

He walked into the circle, the baseball feeling light in his scarred hands. He had watched Katsuki throw over seven hundred meters. He needed to match that, if not beat it. But he also knew Aizawa was watching him closely.

 

Aizawa stood a few feet away, his eyes narrowed. Midoriya Izuku. Quirk: Comet. The kid who obliterated the Zero-Pointer with a kinetic shockwave that shattered the city block. It was a heroic act, but it came at a massive cost. He cooked his own internals and shattered his leg with the recoil. If he uses that same maximum output here just to get a high score, he's a liability. A one-trick pony who breaks his own toys.

 

Izuku took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, bringing the heat forward.

 

I can't use an explosive Repel blast like I did on the robot, Izuku analyzed rapidly. If I blast the ball with a wide-area shockwave, I'll destroy the ball entirely, or the scattershot kinetic force won't translate to distance. I need concentrated, directed force. A railgun effect.

 

Izuku stepped back, winding up for the pitch. He didn't ignite his whole body. He didn't glow with the terrifying aura he used at the entrance exam.

 

Instead, he channeled all the heat into a single point: his right index finger and thumb.

 

As his arm came forward, whipping toward the sky, he let go of the ball. In the exact microsecond the ball left his fingertips, Izuku fired.

 

"Comet: Snipe!"

 

A terrifyingly thin, concentrated beam of brilliant green fire shot from his index finger. It hit the dead center of the baseball with pinpoint accuracy. The kinetic force was localized purely to the surface area of the ball.

 

CRACK!

 

The sound was like a thunderclap. The baseball didn't just fly; it broke the sound barrier instantly. The localized green shockwave propelled the ball into the stratosphere in a matter of seconds, leaving a thin, emerald vapor trail in the sky.

 

Izuku exhaled, a plume of steam escaping his lips. He lowered his arm. The tips of his index finger and thumb were slightly blistered, smoking gently in the cool air, but otherwise, he was completely unharmed. He hadn't overheated. He hadn't broken anything.

 

Aizawa stared at the boy. The teacher's eyes widened fractionally. He didn't unleash his full power. He recognized the parameters of the test, optimized his Quirk for a localized strike, and managed the thermal backlash perfectly. He controlled the fire.

 

Aizawa held up the smartphone.

 

750.3m.

 

"A sensible application of force," Aizawa said, his voice betraying a hint of genuine approval. "You know your limits, Midoriya."

 

Izuku smiled, bowing slightly. "Thank you, Sensei."

 

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

 

Izuku barely had time to turn his head before Katsuki was charging at him, explosions popping wildly in his hands, his face twisted in a mask of absolute rage.

 

"You got a higher score than me?! You damn nerd! Explain yourself, Deku!"

 

Izuku didn't back down. He dropped into a defensive stance, his own palms sparking with green fire, ready to meet the charge.

 

But before Katsuki could reach him, a gray scarf wrapped tightly around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. Aizawa stood a few feet away, his hair floating wildly in the air, his eyes glowing a menacing red.

 

"Stand down, Bakugo," Aizawa growled, his Erasure Quirk active. "Unless you want me to expel you right now."

 

Katsuki struggled against the capture weapon for a moment, glaring murderously at Izuku, before finally clicking his tongue and ceasing his resistance.

 

Aizawa blinked, his hair falling back down, and retracted the scarf. "We're wasting time. Let's finish the tests."

 

An hour later, the class stood in front of the scoreboard. Izuku had placed 2nd overall, just barely edged out by the creation-Quirk user, Momo Yaoyorozu, who had excelled in every single category through sheer versatility. Katsuki had placed 3rd.

 

Mineta, the purple-haired boy, sat at the bottom in 20th place, crying hysterically about his impending doom.

 

"By the way, I lied about the expulsion," Aizawa said casually, turning to walk away. "It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your Quirks."

 

The class froze.

 

"WHAT?!" half the students screamed.

 

Izuku let out a long breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. He's lying about lying. If Mineta hadn't shown genuine effort in the side-step test, Aizawa absolutely would have expelled him. This school is terrifying.

 

 

 

The next day brought the true test of U.A.'s hero course: Foundational Hero Studies.

 

Izuku was sitting at his desk, going over his notes from the previous day, when the door to the classroom suddenly slammed open.

 

"I AM COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"

 

The class erupted in cheers as All Might, dressed in his Silver Age costume, marched into the room. His sheer presence completely altered the atmosphere, filling the room with an electric, undeniable energy.

 

"Foundational Hero Studies!" All Might boomed, marching to the front of the class. "For this class, we'll be building up your hero foundation through various trials! Let's get right into it! Today's activity... BATTLE TRAINING!"

 

Katsuki’s head snapped up, a feral, terrifying grin spreading across his face. "Battle..."

 

"...Training," Izuku finished softly, his own emerald eyes sharpening.

 

"And to go with that!" All Might pointed to the wall, where slots opened to reveal large, numbered metal cases. "Your hero costumes, made based on your Quirk registrations and requests! Go get changed and gather at Ground Beta! They say the clothes make the man, young men and ladies! Be fully aware... from now on, you are heroes!"

 

Ten minutes later, Class 1-A emerged from the tunnel into the mock-city of Ground Beta.

 

Izuku stepped into the light, adjusting the collar of his suit. He hadn't requested a flashy, spandex bodysuit. His Quirk was too volatile for standard materials. His costume, designed initially from a sketch he and his mother had drawn, had been heavily upgraded by U.A.'s support company.

 

He wore a sleek, dark green combat suit made of interwoven, fire-retardant kevlar. The most prominent features were the heavy, black metallic bracers on his forearms and the thick, steel-toed combat boots on his feet, designed to absorb and withstand the immense kinetic recoil of his "Repel" blasts. Across his chest and back were a series of matte-black, high-density ventilation ports. These vents were wired directly to his bio-monitors; when his internal body temperature spiked, the ports would open, expelling the excess heat as harmless steam to prevent internal boiling. He didn't have a cape, and he had ditched the bunny-ear cowl from his childhood designs in favor of a specialized re-breather mask that rested around his neck, ready to filter out smoke and deliver concentrated oxygen if he needed it.

 

"Midoriya! Your costume looks incredibly practical!" Iida marched over, clad in a massive suit of white armor.

 

"Thanks, Iida. Yours looks very protective," Izuku complimented.

 

"Deku! That suit looks amazing!" Uraraka ran over, wearing a form-fitting pink and black space suit. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "Mine is a little skintight... I should have been more specific in my request."

 

Izuku flushed slightly, looking away. "N-no, it looks great, Uraraka! Highly aerodynamic!"

 

"Now that you're all ready, it's time for combat training!" All Might called out.

 

The rules were simple. Two-on-two indoor combat. One team plays the villains, guarding a nuclear weapon on an upper floor. The other team plays the heroes, tasked with either securing the weapon or capturing the villains within fifteen minutes.

 

Lots were drawn. Izuku felt a knot of anticipation form in his stomach as he saw his letter. Team A.

 

He looked at Uraraka. She held up an 'A' as well. They were partners.

 

"Team A will be the heroes!" All Might announced, pulling another ball from a box. "And they will face... Team D, the villains!"

 

Izuku’s head snapped toward the crowd.

 

Standing a few feet away, glaring at him with a look of pure, unadulterated murder, was Katsuki Bakugo. Katsuki was wearing a black, sleeveless top with a massive orange X across the chest, and enormous, grenade-shaped gauntlets on his forearms.

 

Beside Katsuki stood Iida, representing the rest of Team D.

 

"A fated battle," All Might said, looking between Izuku and Katsuki. The pro hero knew exactly what he was doing. He had seen their rivalry in the entrance exam files. He needed to see how they handled each other in a controlled environment. "Villain team, go inside and set up! Hero team, you have five minutes to formulate a plan before you infiltrate!"

 

Katsuki didn't say a word. He just bumped his shoulder hard against Izuku's as he walked past him toward the building.

 

"Don't hold back, Deku," Katsuki whispered, his voice a low, gravelly threat. "Because I'm going to put you in the ground."

 

Izuku didn't flinch. He turned his head, his green eyes meeting Katsuki’s crimson ones. "I wouldn't dream of it, Kacchan."

 

Five minutes later, Izuku and Uraraka stood outside a window on the ground floor of the mock building.

 

"Okay, Uraraka," Izuku whispered, pulling his re-breather mask up over his mouth and nose. The mask hissed, delivering a steady flow of cool, filtered air. "Here's the plan. Iida is likely guarding the weapon. He's pragmatic and plays by the rules. He'll stay on the objective. Kacchan... is a different story."

 

"You think Bakugo will come after us?" Uraraka asked, holding her hands up defensively.

 

"I know he will. He won't wait for us to come to him. He's going to hunt me down," Izuku said, his eyes scanning the blueprints they had been given. "When he attacks, I want you to run. Find the weapon. If you can float it, we win."

 

"But what about you? Bakugo looks really strong."

 

"I know all of his moves," Izuku said softly, his fists clenching, a faint green glow illuminating the dark fabric of his gloves. "And he knows all of mine. It's going to be a brawl. I just need to keep him occupied."

 

"START!" All Might's voice echoed over the PA system.

 

Izuku and Uraraka slipped through the window, stepping softly into the dimly lit, concrete corridors of the first floor. It was silent, save for the sound of their breathing.

 

They moved up the first flight of stairs, checking the corners. The tension was palpable. Izuku kept his ears strained. He knew what a preemptive strike from Katsuki sounded like. He was listening for the spark.

 

They reached the second floor. A long, narrow hallway stretched out before them.

 

Crack-crackle.

 

It was barely a whisper, the sound of sweat igniting in a palm.

 

"Uraraka, get back!" Izuku roared, shoving her behind him.

 

From around the far corner, Katsuki exploded into view. He wasn't running; he was flying, using continuous explosions from his palms to propel himself forward at blinding speed. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, pulling back his right arm for a devastating right hook, aiming a massive explosion directly at Izuku's face.

 

Izuku didn't dodge. There was no room in the corridor.

 

He planted his heavy boots into the concrete, crossing his metallic bracers in front of his face.

 

"Comet: Shield!"

 

Izuku ignited a dense, localized wall of green fire directly in front of his arms, using the "Repel" force not as a projectile, but as a kinetic barrier.

 

Katsuki’s explosion slammed into the green kinetic wall. The resulting shockwave tore through the hallway, shattering the windows and ripping the paint off the walls. The sheer force pushed Izuku backward, his boots skidding, grinding deep trenches into the concrete floor, but the metallic bracers and the kinetic fire held. He absorbed the blow.

 

The smoke cleared, revealing the two rivals standing less than three feet apart, caught in a dead lock of green fire and orange embers.

 

"You blocked it," Katsuki sneered, a terrifying grin spreading across his face. "Not bad, Deku. You've gotten sturdier."

 

"And you're telegraphing your right hook, Kacchan," Izuku shot back, his eyes narrowing behind his mask.

 

Izuku immediately dropped his guard, channeling the heat into his right leg. He whipped his leg up in a vicious roundhouse kick, aiming a point-blank "Repel" blast at Katsuki’s ribs.

 

Katsuki reacted instantly, using a small explosion from his left hand to blast himself backward, narrowly avoiding the kinetic shockwave that shattered the wall where he had just been standing.

 

"Uraraka, go!" Izuku yelled, not taking his eyes off Katsuki.

 

Uraraka didn't hesitate. She scrambled past them, running down the corridor and up the next flight of stairs.

 

Katsuki didn't even look at her. "Let her go. I don't care about the extra. I'm here to crush you, Deku."

 

"You're supposed to be playing a villain guarding a weapon, Kacchan," Izuku said, shifting into a low martial arts stance, his hands raised, green flames licking his knuckles. "Abandoning the objective for a personal grudge is bad strategy."

 

"A true hero crushes all his enemies!" Katsuki roared, launching himself forward again.

 

The hallway became a crucible of fire and kinetic force.

 

It was a masterclass in close-quarters combat between two prodigies who knew each other too well. Katsuki would feint with his right, aiming to blast with his left. Izuku would counter by firing a kinetic repulse into the ground, sliding out of the way, and returning fire with a concentrated beam of green heat.

 

Every time their strikes collided, the building shook.

 

In the monitor room, the rest of Class 1-A watched in stunned silence.

 

"This is insane," Kirishima, a red-haired boy, muttered, leaning close to the screen. "They look like seasoned pros trying to kill each other. The sheer force behind those attacks..."

 

Aizawa, who had stepped into the room to observe, crossed his arms. "Bakugo has overwhelming offensive power and combat instinct. But Midoriya is matching him blow for blow by using his kinetic repulsion to deflect the explosions. It's a battle of attrition. Midoriya's suit is venting heat, but he can't keep this up forever."

 

On the screen, Izuku was panting heavily. The ventilation ports on his chest and back were hissed open, shooting plumes of white steam into the air to cool his core, but the ambient temperature in the hallway was skyrocketing.

 

Katsuki noticed the steam. He grinned savagely.

 

"You're overheating, Deku," Katsuki laughed, launching a barrage of rapid-fire explosions that forced Izuku backward down the hall. "You've got a time limit! I don't! The more I sweat, the stronger my explosions get! You can't win a war of attrition with me!"

 

Katsuki lunged, bringing his massive grenade gauntlet forward for a brutal uppercut.

 

Izuku stepped back, his back hitting the wall. He was cornered.

 

He's right, Izuku thought rapidly, his mind processing variables at lightspeed. I can't overpower him in a straight clash. He's building too much sweat in those gauntlets. I need to disrupt his rhythm. I need to make him miss.

 

As Katsuki swung the gauntlet, Izuku didn't try to block it. He didn't use "Repel" to push it away.

 

Instead, Izuku thrust his left hand forward, aiming directly at the heavy metal casing of Katsuki’s gauntlet.

 

"Comet: ATTRACT!"

 

A localized, powerful magnetic tether snapped onto the metal of the gauntlet.

 

Izuku didn't pull Katsuki toward him; he pulled the gauntlet off-center. He yanked his left hand hard to the side.

 

The sudden, violent gravitational pull on the heavy metal gauntlet threw Katsuki’s entire center of gravity off balance. His arm was physically jerked to the right, dragging his body with it.

 

The massive explosion that was meant for Izuku’s chin fired harmlessly into the concrete wall to Izuku's right, blowing a massive hole in the masonry.

 

Katsuki’s eyes widened in shock. He pulled me?!

 

With Katsuki completely off-balance and his side exposed, Izuku dropped low, channeling the heat into his right palm. He drove his hand directly into Katsuki’s solar plexus.

 

"REPEL!"

 

A point-blank, concentrated kinetic shockwave erupted from Izuku's palm. It hit Katsuki with the force of a battering ram. The ash-blonde boy the breath knocked completely out of his lungs. He was launched backward, flying down the hallway and crashing heavily into a concrete pillar.

 

Katsuki slumped to the floor, coughing violently, gasping for air.

 

Izuku stood in the hallway, his chest heaving, his vents hissing loudly as he dumped heat. He raised a hand to his earpiece. "Uraraka, report. I've engaged Kacchan on the second floor. Have you found the weapon?"

 

"I found it!" Uraraka's voice crackled over the comms. "It's on the fifth floor! But Iida cleared out all the furniture. I have nowhere to hide, and I can't get close to the weapon without him catching me! He's too fast!"

 

"Don't engage him directly," Izuku instructed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Buy me a little time. I'm going to end this down here and come up to help you."

 

Down the hall, Katsuki slowly stood up. The impact had bruised his ribs, but the pain only seemed to fuel his rage. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and completely unhinged.

 

"You think..." Katsuki growled, his voice trembling with fury, "you think you can outsmart me with your gravity tricks, Deku? You think you're better than me?!"

 

Katsuki raised his right arm. He reached over with his left hand, grabbing the metal pin situated on the side of his massive grenade gauntlet.

 

"They designed these gauntlets to store up my nitroglycerin sweat," Katsuki said, a manic grin stretching across his face. "If I pull this pin, it fires all of it at once in a directed blast. It's enough to level this entire floor."

 

In the monitor room, All Might grabbed the microphone. "Young Bakugo, stop! Are you trying to kill him?! If you fire that indoors, the structural integrity of the building will fail!"

 

Katsuki didn't even look up at the cameras. His eyes were locked solely on Izuku.

 

"If he dodges, he won't die!" Katsuki roared, yanking the pin.

 

A blinding, cataclysmic pillar of white-hot fire and concussive force erupted from the gauntlet. The blast completely filled the narrow hallway, consuming everything in its path. It tore up the floorboards, incinerated the walls, and rushed toward Izuku like a tidal wave of destruction.

 

Izuku saw death hurtling toward him.

 

He didn't have time to run. He didn't have the power to block it with a Repel shield. The blast was too massive.

 

Think! Think! Izuku's mind screamed. If I can't push it, and I can't block it... I have to pull myself out of the way!

 

But he was in a narrow hallway. If he pulled himself backward, the blast would just catch up to him. He couldn't go left or right.

 

There was only one way to go.

 

Forward.

 

Izuku looked past the roaring wall of fire, his eyes locking onto the concrete wall standing directly behind Katsuki at the far end of the hall.

 

Izuku raised his right hand, pointing his palm directly at the wall behind his rival. He poured every single ounce of heat he had left in his core into the focal point.

 

"COMET: MAXIMUM ATTRACT!"

 

The gravitational tether locked onto the far wall with the strength of titanium steel.

 

Izuku didn't just pull himself; he slingshotted himself.

 

As the apocalyptic wall of fire reached him, Izuku was violently yanked forward at a speed surpassing sound. He dove low, sliding across the floor. He moved so fast that the massive explosion only grazed the back of his suit, searing his vents, as he slid cleanly underneath the blast wave.

 

He shot down the hallway like a green bullet, sliding directly between Katsuki’s legs, propelled by the massive gravitational pull anchored to the wall behind Katsuki.

 

Katsuki, still firing the massive blast from his gauntlet, only felt a gust of wind as Izuku passed right under him.

 

Izuku instantly severed the tether as he passed Katsuki, using a micro-burst of "Repel" from his boots to brake himself against the far wall.

 

The massive explosion from Katsuki’s gauntlet blew a hole completely through the side of the building, tearing into the open air. The hallway was left in ruins, choked with smoke and debris.

 

Katsuki lowered his smoking gauntlet, panting heavily, a triumphant grin on his face. "I told you... I told you I was the best..."

 

"You missed, Kacchan."

 

Katsuki froze. The blood drained from his face.

 

He slowly turned around.

 

Standing behind him, leaning against the wall, was Izuku. His suit was scorched, his mask was cracked, and steam was billowing from his vents in massive clouds. He looked absolutely exhausted, on the verge of collapsing.

 

But his eyes were burning with undeniable victory.

 

Before Katsuki could even raise his other gauntlet, Izuku lunged forward, closing the two feet of distance between them. He didn't use fire. He didn't use a blast.

 

He reached into a pouch on his belt, pulled out a long strip of capture tape provided by the teachers, and wrapped it cleanly around Katsuki’s wrist.

 

"Bakugo Katsuki is captured!" All Might's voice echoed through the building.

 

Katsuki stared at the white tape on his wrist, completely and utterly shattered. He hadn't just lost a brawl. He had been outmaneuvered, outsmarted, and completely bypassed. Izuku hadn't tried to overpower his strongest attack; he had simply used his Quirk to slide past it.

 

"Iida!" Katsuki yelled into his earpiece, his voice cracking with desperation. "Deku is coming up! Stop him!"

 

"I don't need to go up," Izuku whispered, tapping his own earpiece. "Uraraka, do it now!"

 

On the fifth floor, Iida was standing perfectly still in front of the papier-mâché nuclear weapon. He heard Katsuki’s warning. He readied himself for Izuku's arrival.

 

But Izuku didn't come through the door.

 

Instead, the floor beneath Iida's feet suddenly exploded upward.

 

Izuku, standing on the second floor, had pointed his hands straight up at the ceiling. He hadn't used his "Repel" on Katsuki. He had saved his last massive blast for the building itself.

 

"Detroit... REPEL!"

 

The kinetic shockwave tore vertically through the building, shattering the ceiling of the second floor, the third, the fourth, and finally the fifth. It didn't destroy the weapon, but it completely obliterated the structural integrity of the room Iida was standing in.

 

The floor buckled. Iida lost his footing, tumbling backward as the concrete gave way.

 

"What in the world?!" Iida yelled, flailing his arms.

 

"Improvised meteor!" Uraraka cheered. She grabbed a massive pillar that had been dislodged by the blast, made it weightless with a touch, and swung it like a baseball bat directly at the falling debris, sending a shower of rocks toward Iida.

 

As Iida desperately kicked the rocks away to protect himself, Uraraka leaped over the crumbling floor, reaching her hand out.

 

She slapped her palm against the side of the nuclear weapon.

 

"Secured!" she yelled happily.

 

A heavy silence descended upon Ground Beta, broken only by the sound of crumbling concrete and hissing steam.

 

"THE HERO TEAM... WINS!" All Might announced, his voice booming with pride.

 

Izuku let out a long, ragged exhale. The adrenaline immediately vanished, replaced by a bone-crushing exhaustion. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his back in the ruined hallway, staring up through the hole he had blasted in the ceiling.

 

He had won. He had faced the terrifying, explosive might of Katsuki Bakugo, and he had won through strategy, precision, and control.

 

He turned his head slowly to look at Katsuki.

 

The ash-blonde boy was standing perfectly still in the rubble. He was staring at his shaking hands, his eyes wide with disbelief. The reality of the defeat was crashing down on him. For the first time in his life, Katsuki Bakugo had thrown his absolute best at someone, and it hadn't been enough.

 

"Deku..." Katsuki whispered, his voice barely audible over the hissing steam.

 

Izuku forced himself to sit up, wincing as his bruised ribs protested. He looked at his rival, offering no gloating, no arrogance. Just the same unyielding respect they had always shared.

 

"I told you, Kacchan," Izuku said softly. "I'm going to be a step ahead."

 

In the monitor room, Aizawa smiled. It was a terrifying, feral smile, but it was genuine.

 

He used his opponent's aggression against him. He managed his thermal limits perfectly, using the environment to secure the win without risking lethal damage. He's not just a powerhouse.

 

Aizawa looked at the screen, watching Izuku slowly help himself to his feet.

 

He's a tactician. He's dangerous.

 

The rivalry had officially been ignited on the greatest stage in the world. And the sparks were going to burn brightly for a long time.