Chapter Text
Yamada Hizashi opened his eyes as the first rays of dawn peeked through his bedroom window and landed on his face. Not that he’d been asleep for the past hour anyway; he’d been trying to get a little more rest, but he was too wound up.
Today was the day. Today he was going to take the UA entrance exam. He brushed his teeth and styled his hair up before putting in his contacts and slipping on his favorite pair of shades. He picked at the breakfast his dad set in front of him, his appetite uncharacteristically absent as he hummed quietly to himself.
“You’re gonna do great,” his mom said, squeezing him in a tight hug that he wriggled free of as he tried to get out the door. His dad didn’t say anything as he caught Hizashi’s eye across the room. He only gave a wink and smile; but that was all the shorthand he needed to say ‘relax, you got this.’ Hizashi grinned back, though it was a little tight at the corners as he stuffed his shaking hands into his pockets and stepped outside.
The walk to the train station helped steady his nerves somewhat; still, his foot bounced relentlessly for the entire journey, and the woman sitting beside him kept shooting irritated glances in his direction. He gave her a bright, if somewhat sheepish, smile and a shrug as she got off the train the stop before his own.
The gates of UA were larger than life as he walked through them with a throng of other 15 year olds, all with dreams of making it into the most elite hero school in the country. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked around at the other kids in their mix of different middle school uniforms; but as he got a better look at them, his nerves shifted into excitement. Ever since he’d applied to UA, his imagination had conjured images of trying to compete against All Might or Endeavor! Real pro heroes! Seeing a bunch of other kids his age calmed that part of him. He still knew it would be tough, but he could totally do this!
In the huge stadium-like auditorium, the air hummed with hundreds of murmured conversations between friends and rivals as Hizashi found his seat. His eyes flickered around the crowd, pausing here and there as different people caught his attention.
In the row directly in front of him, slightly to his left, a boy with an unruly mop of black hair looked like he was asleep, arms folded on the table in front of him, cushioning his forehead. Behind him and off to his right, Hizashi had to suppress a shiver as he caught sight of a distinctly spidery-looking boy. From almost halfway across the auditorium, a loud, clear laugh drew his attention. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like it had come from a tall kid with a shock of pale blue hair that swept up even higher than Hizashi’s.
His curious inspection of the others was put on hold as a middle-aged man with a bald head that glinted in the lights stepped up to the podium and began to speak. The buzz of conversation died down, and even the napping kid in front of Hizashi lifted his head to listen.
Hizashi had a hard time focusing on exactly what the man was saying; it didn’t sound too important anyway, just greetings and formalities. Booooriiiing. Things got serious when the exam started.
The written test was first. With a mechanical thump, the tabletop in front of him dropped down, then flipped over and popped back up in place, a touch screen terminal lit up with the exam ready to go.
Hizashi had never been the best student, a little too prone to daydreaming and getting distracted in class to ever make top marks. When he did focus, though, things usually made sense pretty quickly, so his grades were always good enough. And he’d always done really well with languages - more than one of his teachers had said that it made sense given how much he liked to talk. Really it was probably because he listened to a ton of music in other languages.
He’d studied as best he could for today, and he felt confident as he went through each section. He finished pretty quickly compared to a lot of others, at least if the number of kids with their heads still bowed over their terminals was any indication. His screen gave a quiet beep and the desk mechanism flipped back over. He glanced down at the napping boy to see he was still tapping away at his own exam.
Hizashi entertained himself while waiting for everyone else to finish up by jotting down on scrap paper some ideas for his next few webcasts. He’d been recording it weekly for over a year now, but if he got into UA, he might get some real pro heroes to listen! He’d need to start taking it a little more seriously! So he filled the page with topics like different heroes, video games, and classic cars, along with a variety of playlists.
It took foreeeeeverrrrr for time to be up; but when the bald man, apparently the principal of the school, Akahori Taketo, stepped back to the podium, the room fell into a hush thick with tension. Everyone knew what was coming next. This was where they would all really have the opportunity to show what they could do.
“Good job all of you. For those of you who will be taking the practical exam for entry into the hero course, here is how it will work. Each of you has been assigned to one of the test sites at random. When the test begins, you will have ten minutes to get as many points as you can. You need to contain, or neutralize the villains on the field in order to gain points.”
An image of a matte black robot with a vaguely humanoid upper half, and a sturdy, all-terrain vehicle looking bottom half popped up on the giant screen behind the principal. Alongside the robot was the image of a man in a skintight black bodysuit, a menacing look on his face.
“Your opponents will be a mix of these robotic villains, as well as third year hero course students and recent graduates from the past few years. That means either provisionally or fully licensed heroes are going to be out there, so you’d better give it your best if you want to have a chance of holding your own.” A murmur of nervous excitement rippled through the room. Principal Akahori explained the point system, but that was all insignificant details to Hizashi.
“Please note, attacking other examinees is strictly forbidden,” the Principal said, casting a long hard glare around the room. “The villains on the field will all be wearing the same outfit as you see here,” he added with a wave towards the screen behind him, “So there shouldn’t be any confusion as to the appropriate targets.”
Hizashi looked again at the person up on the screen. The otherwise solid black outfit had a huge day-glo yellow X that went from his shoulders across his body down to his hips, and was pretty unmistakable.
“Today will be the first, and for many of you your last, opportunity to embody the Plus Ultra motto of UA. Take this chance and push yourself to your limits, because until you find your limits, you can’t surpass them. Show us that you have what it takes to be the next heroes that Japan and the world needs! Get out there and go beyond!”
Hizashi couldn’t contain his excitement, and his voice echoed in the background murmur of the auditorium as he shouted, “Plus Ultra!” A few heads turned to stare at him, and he felt his face heating up; but he wasn’t gonna let the others’ lack of enthusiasm put a damper on his own energy.
With that, the students were dismissed and directed to their various test sites, and Hizashi flowed along with the crowd, humming to himself and walking in the rhythm of the song. Each test area had a locker room nearby, and Hizashi hastily folded his middle school uniform and pulled on the loose track pants he’d brought for this. He zipped the jacket over his t-shirt and glanced down at himself to make sure he hadn’t put anything on inside-out or backwards.
He was ready to rock and roll.
Looking around, he recognized the shaggy hair of the napping kid from earlier. He was now wearing baggy black sweats, a frown on his face as he stuffed his bag into a locker. By the time Hizashi had gotten his sneakers on and was making his way out, the other boy was also heading towards the exit.
“Good luck out there!” Hizashi said, giving the boy a bright smile and a double thumbs-up. All he got in return was a look of suspicious confusion. Well, that’s kinda what it seemed like, it was admittedly a little hard to tell with the way half the kids’ hair fell forward, covering his face. Still, Hizashi could kinda see his eyes.
He had nice eyes.
“You too,” the kid muttered and picked up his pace, jogging towards the test site where a crowd of other hero hopefuls had already gathered. Hizashi kept walking, bouncing slightly with the steady beat of the song that had resumed playing in his head.
A serious looking hero was standing just outside the gate that would open into the actual testing grounds, keeping an eye on the crowd of nervous teenagers. Hizashi bounced on his toes, ready to run as soon as they got started.
There was no countdown, but everyone fell silent, holding a collective breath as they waited the last few moments. The gates swung open, swiftly and silently, revealing a cityscape within. They took off, ten minutes on the clock.
Ten minutes to make or break their future. Ten minutes to prove they have what it takes.
Hizashi barreled down the main thoroughfare before peeling off to the left and spotting his first target. The robot had spotted him too, and was charging towards him at high speed. Hizashi inhaled deeply, feeling his lungs filling beyond their normal limits. Finally, he was able to let loose.
“Yeeeaaahhhhh!” Adrenaline surged through him as the power of his voice stopped the robot in its tracks, circuits frying and gears shaking loose within its mechanisms. The ruckus drew the attention of several more robots from the surrounding area. They converged on him, and Hizashi gave a wicked grin as he breathed deep to see how many he could take out at once.
This was fun.
After taking out more than a dozen robots, he ran back towards the center of the testing grounds looking for more targets, catching sight of some of his fellow examinees as he went. Right up ahead, in fact, there was a girl with vivid blue hair doing something at the side panel of one of the robots. Hizashi wasn’t sure what to make of it, but a flash of movement at the corner of his eye revealed a villain stepping out of the shadow of a doorway, the girl clearly in her sights.
“Hi there!” Hizashi yelled at the villain, dialing back the intensity of his Quirk a little. He’d never really seen what the full force of his Quirk could do to a living creature, and he didn’t particularly want to. It was also hard for him to aim as precisely as he’d like, so he needed to make sure he didn’t hit the girl. It was still more than enough to send the villain to her knees, and to alert the girl by the robot of the danger at her back. She slammed the panel on the robot shut and the machine roared to life, immediately targeting the kneeling villain, charging forward and pinning her down.
Hizashi and the girl looked at each other and shared a nod and smile, each taking off in separate directions. Hizashi continued deeper into the test site, taking out a bunch of robots and a few villains as he went. He paused briefly a few times to watch a few seriously impressive takedowns by some of his fellow examinees; but mostly he stayed focused on his goal. He rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks, watching in awe as two blocks down, the dark-haired boy from before flipped a full-grown man over his shoulder onto the pavement before yanking a zip-tie off his belt and using it to secure the man’s hands behind his back. Hizashi wondered if the boy had a super strength Quirk.
After a heartbeat, the boy was back on his feet and looking further down the road away from Hizashi, when another figure stepped out of the cross-street that separated Hizashi from the dark-haired boy. A quick glance told Hizashi that it was another examinee, dressed in gray and blue sweats. The kid was gathering up a dark ball of energy that crackled in an ominous and terrifying way, and Hizashi looked around for the unfortunate villain the kid was about to take out with that wicked looking thing. For a moment, he worried that he’d gotten so distracted that he’d missed an approaching danger.
But there were no villains around. Well, except the one already bound on the ground over by-
It all clicked into place in one terrifying second as the kid pivoted and took aim at the dark-haired boy. Hizashi didn’t think there was really any way to mistake the boy’s baggy sweats for the skintight villain costume; but the kid must have, because Hizashi had no doubt he was about to attack.
“No!” he yelled, sprinting forward. He hadn’t intended to put his Quirk into it; but since the short blast whooshed down the street, not doing anything more than creating a strong breeze, he hoped it wouldn’t count as attacking the kid with the swirling ball of darkness gripped between his hands.
It did provide a moment’s distraction, though, and enough time for the dark-haired boy to turn around and see what was happening. A wide-eyed look flicked over the boy’s face as Hizashi reached out to grab the would-be attacker by the arm to stop him - but he was too late. With a sneer, the kid sent the ball of energy hurtling towards its target, and Hizashi’s heart leapt up into his throat. He wanted to yell again, to try and disperse the blast, but at this angle it was too big a risk of hitting the other boy.
Then, suddenly, the wicked ball of blackness evaporated into nothing. Hizashi gawked in disbelief as the dark-haired boy stared down the kid who’d attacked him, eyes glowing red and his hair standing up in complete defiance of gravity. Hizashi knew all too well that a look like that usually took a whole lot of hair product to achieve; but it was clear that this hairstyle had nothing to do with vanity, it was pure power. Hizashi was mesmerized.
With a blink, the boy’s eyes stopped glowing and his hair fell back down to cover his ears and half his face, and a loud, shrill buzzer sounded letting them know that their time was up.
The test was over.
Whatever spell had taken over Hizashi was broken now, and the reality of what had just happened dawned on him. “What the hell was that!” he yelled at the kid next to him, finally able to catch his breath now that the dark-haired boy was safe.
“Not my fault that Aizawa looks like a villain,” the boy sneered, jerking his arm away from Hizashi and running away down the side street he’d come from.
Hizashi had more than half a mind to run after the kid; but the test was over and they were supposed to make their way to the exit, so he jogged to catch up to the dark-haired boy - Aizawa? - who was already heading out.
“Yo man, you ok?” Hizashi asked.
Possibly-Aizawa peered at him out of the corner of his eye. “Fine,” he muttered.
“That was really messed up,” Hizashi growled, irritation at the attacker flaring again, “Your clothes don't look at all like the villain costumes, that kid shoulda known better. He called you Aizawa, is that your name? Do you know him?”
Possibly-Aizawa gave a short nod. “Yeah.” Dark gray eyes flicked over Hizashi’s face again for a long moment, as if looking for something. “Aizawa Shouta,” he finally said. Hizashi wasn’t sure why, but it felt like a victory.
“Yamada Hizashi,” he told Aizawa, offering his hand. Aizawa hunched his shoulders and kept walking, but Hizashi wasn’t put off, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder instead. “I thought for sure that energy ball was gonna get you. How did you stop it? You must have a really strong Quirk, it was wild the way your eyes glowed and your hair stood up like that. Takes me half an hour to get my hair into this sweet up-do,” Hizashi laughed, miming as if he was flipping his hair, even though it was still firmly up in its faux hawk.
By this point, they had made their way to the gates where the examinees were streaming out, mostly under their own power, though a few were limping or cradling their arms gingerly. Hizashi stared as one girl was taken past on a stretcher, clearly bleeding badly from a nasty gash on her leg.
“Aizawa, Yamada!” a sharp voice barked from off to the left as they walked out. “You two, come with me.” The voice belonged to the serious looking hero who’d been stationed out front before they went in. Now he was looking no less serious, but also a lot more scary. He had his hand on the shoulder of the kid from before, who was glowering and glaring at them. Hizashi glanced at Aizawa, who just ducked his head and hunched his shoulders and followed along as the hero turned on his heel and began walking back towards the main building.
Hizashi’s stomach dropped.
Was he going to be disqualified for attacking that kid? Not that he had been trying to attack him, he hadn’t even meant to use his Quirk at all! Then again, he supposed that was just as bad, because Hizashi knew that losing control of his Quirk was super dangerous - but come on, he was still learning! The classes in middle school were barely enough, and it’s not like he could practice at home!
But when it came down to it, he’d just wanted to stop the kid from attacking Aizawa! Had his dream of being a hero just gone up in a flash of creepy dark energy?
Hizashi worried his bottom lip between his teeth as they were led into what the sign on the door said was the Principal’s office. Principal Akahori nodded to the hero who’d escorted them this far.
“Thank you, Nishibori, you can go now.” The hero bowed briefly and left, closing the door behind himself. “Have a seat, boys.” Aizawa slumped into a chair close to the door, while the other kid moved across the room to stand by the windows, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Hizashi perched on a seat closer to the middle of the room, between Aizawa and the other kid. “Ijima, Aizawa, Yamada. Would any of you care to tell me what happened?”
Hizashi held his breath and waited, but it seemed like neither Aizawa nor Ijima would care to tell the Principal anything, so after a torturous thirty seconds, Hizashi did what he does best and started telling the story.
“So here’s what went down. I came around the corner and saw Aizawa execute this absolutely badass takedown on a villain - fully took the guy to the ground with his bare hands, crazy! Then this guy, Ijima? Came out along the street between me and Aizawa, and right away the dude starts charging up his Quirk - I don’t know what it does, but it looked like it could do some major damage, ya dig? And I was confused, because there weren’t any villains there to take out, but he was gearing up to shoot off at something, and the only thing there was Aizawa. Oh, and the villain that Aizawa had already captured; but he was on the ground and you can’t get points for blasting a villain someone else has already taken out of play, right? And even if that was his target, Aizawa was standing right there with his back turned to us!
“So I yelled for him, Ijima, to stop, and ran towards him to try and explain that Aizawa was another examinee like us, because I wondered if maybe he’d gotten confused by Aizawa’s black sweats, even though they really don’t look anything at all like the villain costumes; but I was too slow and didn’t get there till after Ijima shot off his whatever it was. But then Aizawa did something, I think with his Quirk, and the whole ball of darkness thing just fizzled out and disappeared. Then the buzzer went off, and Ijima said that it wasn’t his fault Aizawa looks like a villain and he ran off because time was up and the test was over - but that’s still weird, because he definitely said Aizawa’s name, and if he knows Aizawa, how could he not realize that he wasn’t one of the villains? Cuz I just met the guy today and I could tell easily, from even farther away.”
Hizashi took a deep breath and looked around the room at the three sets of eyes all staring at him and felt the heat rising up his neck. Principal Akahori raised both of his eyebrows as Hizashi finished up his monologue, and all Hizashi could do was give a nervous smile. He could feel Aizawa’s eyes boring into the side of his face. Ijima was glaring daggers at everyone.
“Do either of you have anything to add to Yamada’s summary?” Principal Akahori asked. Aizawa shook his head, still staring at Hizashi through narrowed eyes. Ijima didn’t move, but he didn’t say anything either. “Very well. The admissions team will take your account into consideration. You’re dismissed.” Aizawa stayed slumped in his seat while Ijima immediately marched out the door. Hizashi stood, glancing at Aizawa before stepping closer to the Principal, head bowed slightly.
There was one bit he’d left out at first, but the squirming in his gut wouldn’t let him leave if he didn’t tell the Principal this detail too. He wasn’t going to risk starting his career as a hero on a lie, even one of omission. To hell with that.
“I, uh,” he stammered, biting his lip hard for a moment before trying again. “I didn’t mean to, but when I yelled at Ijima, my Quirk activated a little. I wasn’t aiming at him, and it didn’t hit anyone. I wasn’t trying to attack at all, I just- I was scared that he wasn’t going to stop, and my control slipped. I know how dangerous that can be, and that I need to do better.” He bowed a little deeper.
Principal Akahori gave a slow nod as he took in this piece of information. “I appreciate your honesty. This will also be taken into consideration by the admissions team.”
Hizashi bowed one last time and left the office as fast as he could, feeling wicked spikes of fear and doubt pressing into his brain and threatening to send him spinning into a panic attack. If he was going to break down, he’d rather not do it where anyone could see.
Of course, that would be when Aizawa would choose to follow him out the door, silent as a shadow as they made their way down the hall and around a corner, searching for the locker room where their things were.
Hizashi sang quietly to himself as they walked, having learned from past experience that his risk of bursting into tears increased in moments like this if he didn’t force his lungs to do something. He wasn’t sure if it was the singing or the brisk pace or the presence of Aizawa by his side, but gradually he felt the threatening panic pull it’s claws back and retreat for now, and he was able to breathe a little easier.
They’d just about reached the locker room when Aizawa finally spoke. “I didn’t ask for your help.” It was hard to read his tone, but it was some mix of disgruntled, sullen, and confused.
Hizashi shrugged. “I didn’t ask my parents for a new mic for my webcast setup; but I got one, and it’s sweet.” He flashed Aizawa a grin. “You’re welcome.”
Finding his things right where he’d left them, Hizashi decided not to change back into his uniform, instead just stuffing everything into his bag to be dealt with at home. His eye caught the paper he’d been writing his ideas on earlier, and without giving it much thought, he tore the bottom corner off and jotted down his phone number on it.
Aizawa had also opted to not change his clothes, and was already shrugging on his ratty gray backpack when Hizashi spun around and held the scrap of paper out to him. Aizawa stared down at it, then up at Hizashi’s face, before looking down at the paper again. He didn’t make any move to take it, so Hizashi folded it and stuck it into one of Aizawa’s oversized pockets.
“That’s my cell number, gimmie a call when you get your acceptance letter, we’ll celebrate!” Hizashi said, shooting double finger guns at Aizawa.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little overconfident?”
“Just putting those good vibes out into the world, buddy!” Hizashi laughed. He didn’t mention that it was one of the only ways he could keep himself from spiraling into endless worry that would tear him into a million little pieces.
“That’s ridiculous,” Aizawa grumbled as he turned to leave. Hizashi was still trying to get all his crap back into his bag, so he just laughed again as the other boy walked away.
“I’ll see you at the start of our first term!” he called out towards Aizawa’s retreating back. Aizawa just hunched his shoulders and kept walking
~*~
Shouta got himself on the train as quickly as he could, hoping Yamada wouldn’t catch up in time to get on the same one. That was assuming he would even take the same train; but Shouta didn’t want to risk it.
He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper, unfolding it to see the scribbled number - messy, but legible - along with Yamada’s name.
As if Shouta might need to differentiate it from other numbers that other people, like his soon-to-be-former classmates might give him to keep in touch. The idea was laughable, but Shouta only frowned.
Thinking of his middle school classmates, it was hard to tell if Shouta would be more relieved to never see any of them again, or if they would be happier to never see him again. In the case of Ijima, Shouta was pretty sure he knew the answer.
The loud boy, Yamada, was different, though. He wasn’t put off by Shouta, which was annoying in its own right; but also just… different.
He looked down at the slip of paper again.
Either way, it wasn’t like he had a phone of his own.
Stuffing the paper back in his pocket, because he was no litterbug, he shoved aside the thoughts of the loud boy with weird sunglasses and goofy hair and did his best to clear his mind as the rocking of the train along the tracks lulled him into a more relaxed state.
He didn’t quite doze off, still a little too preoccupied by thoughts of the exam and how it had gone. By the time he got off the train and made his way home, he’d turned over the events of the day half a dozen times, trying to figure out the things that went right and the things that went wrong.
“I’m home,” he called as he let himself into the apartment. It was still early, but his dad’s jacket was up on its hook by the door. Shouta wondered if he’d needed to take half a day because the pain was flaring up, or if he’d done it purely to be here when Shouta got home. He suspected the latter.
Sure enough, as soon as he stepped out of his shoes, his dad was right there with a big smile, pulling him in for a tight hug.
“How’d it go?” Dad asked as he finally relaxed his grip.
“Ok, I think. I managed to score more points than I thought I’d be able to, but-” Shouta cut himself off, a sick knot in his gut as he wondered if the whole thing with Ijima would end up disqualifying him.
“But what?”
Shouta frowned as he thought about it. “Ijima was there. He tried to attack me, I needed to use my Quirk to stop him. He broke the rules, but they might decide I did too, which could disqualify me.” He didn’t think it would - he was acting in self-defense, and using his Quirk could hardly be called an attack. If he’d simply jumped away, the ‘villain’ on the ground would have been hit… which would have been Ijima’s fault, not Shouta’s… but still… The worry gnawed at him.
“You worry too much, Shou-chan,” Dad said with a warm smile. “They must record everything, they’re bound to see the truth of things. And Ijima is a jerk, not a heroic bone in his body,” he added, glowering ever so slightly before his ever-present smile brightened his face again. “Come on, let’s make dinner before mom gets home. Go change out of that and meet me in the kitchen.”
Shouta nodded and trudged to his room, dropping his backpack on the floor and taking off his sweats. He was about to toss them on the laundry pile when he remembered the slip of paper in his pocket, and pulled it out.
He didn’t know what Yamada was playing at. He’d called Shouta’s takedown of that villain ‘badass,’ and he’d sounded like he really meant it, which was ridiculous because it was the last word Shouta would ever expect anyone to use to describe him.
He had no illusions about how weak he really was compared to his peers. How much harder he was going to have to work to make it as a hero, especially with his Quirk being practically useless.
Which reminded him, Yamada had seen him use his Quirk, but he hadn’t been bothered by it? Granted, Yamada probably didn’t know exactly what it did, that was usually the part where people started calling him creepy and avoiding him. Shouta sighed and stood over his trash can, staring at the little slip of paper.
He opened his desk drawer and dropped it in there, slamming it firmly shut after.
*
The days dragged past. Seeing Ijima at school wasn’t as bad as Shouta expected it to be; but that was largely because he was very good at expecting the worst. Mostly Ijima just avoided him except to sneer in his direction. Which, for Ijima, was his best behavior.
The rest of Shouta’s classmates ignored him, as usual, which was best for everyone.
The days when he worked at the shop down the street from his apartment were a little better. Ms. Emoto, who ran the shop, was nice; she always gave him a snack and kept him busy cleaning up and stocking shelves and unloading boxes. It helped the time pass faster.
Shouta tried to put UA out of his mind every time he stopped at the mailbox on his way home. He kept telling himself it was way too soon to hear anything.
So when, a week after the exam, a hefty yellow envelope with his name on it was in the pile of mail, Shouta’s hands started to shake as he stuffed it in his backpack and walked quickly to his room. Not that either of his parents were home to see or question it, but he needed a minute to breathe. He sat on his futon and glared at his backpack.
He peeked in his bag, and the cheery piece of stationary stared back at him.
Still there. Still real.
For a wild moment, he thought about grabbing Yamada’s number and calling him from the house line. They could open their envelopes together.
Of course, that’s if Yamada even got his envelope today. And if one of them didn’t get in, well…
Better not to call.
Be rational.
Just open the stupid thing.
Trembling fingers worked open the stiff flap and tugged the folded paper from inside. A small audio disk fell out and immediately began playing. Principal Akahori’s voice came over the speaker.
“Congratulations, Aizawa Shouta! You’ve been accepted into the hero program at…”
There was more. The audio kept playing, but Shouta didn’t register any of the words. He must have heard wrong. There was no way he scored high enough. They were supposed to disqualify him for using his Quirk against another examinee.
He unfolded the paper and forced his eyes to focus on the words, but it looked like they said the same thing.
He’d been accepted.
He was going to UA.
He was going to be a hero.
Shouta grabbed his pillow and clutched it tight to his chest, burying his face against it as he sniffled. He wished his parents were home so he could tell them; but it was fine, they’d be home in a few hours. In the meantime, he just hugged his pillow tight and read the letter over and over as a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
*
The next day at school, Shouta spent less time looking at the floor than he usually did. He and his classmates still avoided each other, but for the first time in a long time, Shouta didn’t feel like he needed to keep his gaze averted from them all.
So when Ijima crowded Shouta up against the wall after the last bell rang, Shouta didn’t hesitate to lock eyes with him.
“You stupid little shit,” Ijima growled, towering over Shouta. “You fucked everything up for me.” Shouta stared blankly at him. He’d long since become an expert at keeping a bored expression on his face when he needed to. Don’t give the bullies the reaction they’re looking for, eventually they move on to other targets. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be going to UA, but you just had to go and make a mess of things.”
“Are you done?” Shouta drawled. “I’ve got other things to do right now.”
“Why don’t you come meet me around the back of the gym, see how tough you really are.”
“No thanks. Like I said, I’ve other things to do.” Shouta pushed off the wall and managed to shoulder past Ijima. He wished, not for the first time, that he could hit his elusive growth spurt already. It would make getting out of these situations much easier.
“Cowardly little shit,” Ijima shouted after him as Shouta was halfway down the hall. “I don’t even know why you bothered applying to UA, especially with that creepy Quirk of yours. You can’t be a hero with a power like that.”
Shouta spun on his heel to stare back at Ijima. “Watch me.”
Before Ijima could react, Shouta turned again and kept walking, getting around a corner before picking up the pace, keeping it just under a jog in case any teacher was lurking nearby. He made it out the front doors and took off running and didn’t stop until he was back home, leaning back against the door as it closed firmly behind him.
“Shouta?” His head snapped up at the sound of his mother’s voice. She was never home this early, but a glance at the coat hooks showed that both she and his father must be here.
Stumbling out of his shoes, he called out, “Yeah Mom, I’m home. Is everything ok?” Last time she'd been home to meet him after school had been when Dad had been in the accident…
“Everything is wonderful,” Dad said with a grin as Shouta found them sitting on the sofa. “Our son is going to be a hero, after all.”
“We’ve decided that with the longer commute you’ll have going to UA, it was only reasonable for you to have it,” Mom said, nodding at the brown paper bag on the coffee table in front of her. Tentatively, Shouta reached in and pulled out a box that felt heavier than he’d expect for its size. When it finally clicked what he was looking at, he gawked open-mouthed at his parents.
“How can we afford this?” he demanded, brandishing the cell phone at them.
“That’s not for you to worry about,” his mother told him firmly.
“I’m back to work, almost full time again,” Dad said. “If you want spending money, you’ll still need to keep helping out Ms. Emoto; but you don’t need to worry about this. We’re fine.”
Shouta bit his lip, uncertain how to feel about this. It wasn’t as if he had anyone besides his parents to keep in touch with, and Dad had that mostly covered with his Quirk.
“Your father has better things to do than play phone operator,” Mom said, not literally reading his mind, but close enough. For a moment, her expression softened. “I know middle school has been difficult for you. But you’re starting a new chapter now, and I want you to have the tools you need to connect with your peers.” She stood from the couch and wrapped her arms around Shouta. They were almost the same height now. “If you want to be a hero, you need to have people skills.”
“I don’t care about going on TV for interviews and crap,” Shouta grumbled.
“But you do care about soothing a crying child.” Mom pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “About being a calm voice in a crowd about to panic. About clear communication with other heroes so that you can work together to capture a villain that none of you could stop on your own.” She shifted her hands to his shoulders and held him at arm's length to better look at his face.
“I know,” he mumbled.
“Good,” Dad said, “Now go play with your new phone. It’s all set up, Mom and I put in our numbers already, so go do stupid teenage things with whatever horrific social media all the kids are on these days.” His grin grew sly as he added, “And remember to use incognito mode on your browser if you look up stuff you don’t want people seeing in your history.”
“Dad!” Shouta flushed and ducked his head so his hair covered his face as much as possible.
“Manato,” Mom sighed.
“Important life skills, Tomoe,” Dad replied with a wink as Shouta scurried away to hide in his bedroom.
He spent the next hour setting up the controls and security on his phone, downloading some apps for alarm clocks and organizational tools, and otherwise familiarizing himself with his new device. He searched up protective cases for it. He would be able to get one with the money from his job, and it was only rational to protect an expensive item.
He glanced up at his desk drawer.
Reaching up, he slid it open and groped around inside blindly, fingers finding the edge of the paper with Yamada’s number on it. He’d looked at it so many times that he had the number memorized, but somehow he felt like it was important that he actually have the paper in his hands for this. He stared at it for a moment, biting his lip, before he huffed out a breath that blew up the lock of hair that perpetually fell down between his eyes.
“Stop being irrational. It’s logical to have the contact information of a classmate,” Shouta muttered to himself as he created a new entry and typed Yamada’s name and number.
Of course, that was assuming Yamada had gotten in.
He could always call and ask.
Or maybe text.
‘Shouta, dinner,’ Dad’s voice came into Shouta’s head.
“Coming!” he yelled out loud. It was actually easier to reply telepathically once his dad opened communication; but sometimes he didn’t feel like beaming his thoughts directly to his father. He tossed his phone down on his futon and stood up, the scrap of paper fluttering from his lap to the floor. He snatched it up and tossed it on top of his desk to throw away later.
He’d gotten his hand on the doorknob when he spun around and stuffed the slip of paper back in the drawer.
*
The last few weeks of his last term of middle school passed by in a haze of tired mornings and drowsy afternoons. Ijima, thankfully, ignored him. Shouta got his assignments done, passed his tests, and helped out Ms. Emoto most days after school, trying to save up as much as he could before he started his first term at UA.
Every few days, he’d think about texting Yamada, then dismiss the idea. But as March rolled towards April, a kind of jittery anticipation settled into Shouta and he found himself opening the contact at least once a day.
Shouta had only gotten a glimpse of Yamada’s Quirk when he’d shouted at Ijima, but it had been powerful enough to nearly blow him over. Swallowing the familiar bitterness that flared up whenever he was reminded of how weak his own Quirk was, Shouta reasoned that Yamada had to have been accepted if Shouta had made it in, right? He must have scored a ton of points.
Thumbs working over the surface of his phone, Shouta tapped out a text.
<sent> Did you get in?
He immediately turned off the screen and put the phone face down, trying to focus on the manga he was reading instead of waiting for a text back that might not even come.
It was less than a minute before the notification pinged.
<Yamada> Aizawa?
<Yamada> yea, I got in! u?
Shouta kicked himself for forgetting to let Yamada know who was messaging, but at least the other boy seemed to remember him.
<sent> Yes, and yes.
<Yamada> sweeeet! I’m in class 1-A
<sent> Me too
Shouta sat in his room texting with Yamada for a while. Well, Yamada did most of the texting, but Shouta didn’t really mind trying to decipher his messages. When Shouta had to leave for work, they signed off saying that they’d see each other in a few days.
Maybe this year really would be different.
*
The first day of hero school. Shouta was having a hard time believing it was real, even as he walked past the towering gates of UA. His footsteps echoed as he made his way along the hallway in search of his classroom. He’d left lots of extra time this morning, in case he had trouble, but he found classroom 1-A easily enough, and he quickly slipped to the furthest back chair, one seat over from the window. There was only one other kid in the room already; a red haired boy who gave Shouta a friendly smile. Shouta only nodded back; he’d been told his smile was just as creepy as his Quirk, so he figured he’d play it safe.
More and more students trickled in. There was a girl with electric blue hair, a boy with a greenish tint to his skin, and a boy who, even with mostly human-looking features, gave the impression of being a very large spider. More and more students filled in the seats around the room.
The next time the door slid open, a boy with pale blue, nearly white, upswept hair came marching in with a smile on his face almost as loud as Yamada’s. A nose strip stood out bright white against the darker tone of his skin as he glanced around the room and made a beeline for the unoccupied seat to Shouta’s right, dropping his bag and plopping down, flashing his grin at Shouta.
Almost immediately, the door opened again, and Shouta heard Yamada before he saw him. “Goooood morning UA Class 1-A! Are we ready to become heroes!?” Yamada struck a pose up at the front of the room, but was met primarily with stunned silence. “Come on now, you’re gonna need more energy than that to take on heroic tasks, let me hear you!”
“Hell yeah!” the boy next to Shouta hollered back.
Yamada pointed at him with a grin. “That’s more like it! Yo, Aizawa!” Yamada’s voice shifted to something a little more normal as he trotted over to drop his stuff in the seat to Shouta’s left, next to the window. “Are you as excited as I am?”
“I don’t think it’s humanly possible to be as excited as you are, Yamada,” Shouta mumbled, slumping a little lower in his seat.
“Aizawa, was it?” Shouta looked to his right at the blue haired boy and gave a tentative nod. “Shirakumo Oboro, pleased to meetcha!” he said, sticking his hand out. Shouta was frozen for a few seconds too long, but Shirakumo didn’t pull his hand back, so Shouta finally reached over and shook it. “And Yamada?” Shirakumo added, glancing across to not-actually meet Yamada’s eyes through those sunglasses that he was wearing again.
“Yamada Hizashi, that’s me!” Yamada said with his bright grin, pointing at himself with both thumbs.
“You two already know each other?” Shirakumo asked, glancing between them.
“We met at the entrance exam!”
“Alright, settle down,” came a stern voice from the front of the room. Shouta recognized the man as the hero who had brought him, Yamada, and Ijima to the Principal’s office after the practical exam. “I’m Nishibori Aoto, your Homeroom teacher. Let’s get roll call done so we can get going.”
Shouta didn’t pay much attention during roll call. He noticed the name of the one boy who’d gotten to class before him, Sarudo Genki, and the girl with the blue hair was Kobayashi Junko, but everyone else blurred together.
Actually, most of the day passed in a blur. There was so much information coming at him all at once that Shouta had to prioritize what he paid attention to. The rational choice was to focus on the materials Nishibori-Sensei was handing out, but Yamada and Shirakumo both seemed far more interested in learning all about their classmates instead.
Yamada in particular flitted around the classroom every time there was an opportunity, approaching almost everyone to introduce himself before scurrying back to his seat when the next lesson started.
Shirakumo was no less friendly towards everyone, but he chose to stay in his seat and chat with the people who sat nearest to him. Shouta mostly slouched down in his chair or hunched over his desk, but come lunchtime, Yamada slung his arm around Shouta’s shoulders and fell into step beside him.
“Talk about living the dream!” he said, leaning heavily on Shouta. “Our classmates seem pretty cool, huh?”
“I guess,” Shouta mumbled. He hadn’t really spoken to anyone besides Yamada and Shirakumo, except to mutter thanks to the greenish boy in front of him, Niragi, when he passed papers back.
“Yeah, that kid Sarudo, he can shapeshift! And Kobayashi can basically make tech do almost anything she wants! I saw her at the entrance exam, I think she reprogrammed one of those robots! And Ebisui has super-strength, can you believe it? She’s so tiny, but she picked those robots up and smashed them on the ground!”
Shouta stayed quiet as Yamada listed off the fantastic powers their classmates had that would help them become heroes.
“The food here is pretty good, huh?” Shirakumo said as he slid into the seat next to Yamada. Yamada nodded as he shoved his lunch into his mouth, apparently one of the few things that could make him stop talking. Shouta just shrugged and unwrapped the food he’d brought from home and ate it quickly.
“Is that all you’re having?” Yamada asked incredulously.
Shouta ducked his head and frowned. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Me neither,” Shirakumo said around a mouthful of rice. “I think I took too much, but it’s a shame to waste it. You should finish it.” He held on to the bowl in his hand, but slid the rest of his tray over to Shouta without waiting for a response.
“That’s not-”
“Come on, you’re not gonna waste food, are you?” Shirakumo chided.
“Technically, you’d be the one wasting it,” Shouta grumbled… but it did smell pretty good. His stomach growled, and without glancing back up, he wolfed down everything left on the tray. Yamada didn’t say anything, but Shouta didn’t like the way he could feel his eyes lingering on him.
“Hey Yamada, Shirakumo!” Shouta glanced up as the blue-haired girl, Kobayashi, plunked down across from them. “And you’re Aizawa, right?” Shouta nodded. Kobayashi started chatting easily with Yamada and Shirakumo while Shouta sank lower in his seat. When it became clear she wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon, Shouta grabbed the tray in front of him to clear away the trash.
That gave him the opportunity to escape to the bathroom.
He’d only been in there a few minutes, hunched in a corner scrolling through his phone - not that he had much to scroll through - when Shirakumo came in.
“There you are!” Shirakumo laughed. “We were wondering if you got lost!”
Shouta blinked at him in confusion.
“You were looking for me?”
“Of course! Come on, there’s a few minutes left before we gotta head back to class.” Shirakumo stopped at the door and held it open, waiting for Shouta who was still standing frozen in place. “Come on!” Shirakumo repeated with a laugh, “Kobayashi was telling us some of the dirt on the teachers.”
“How does she know any dirt?” Shouta asked as his feet carried him towards Shirakumo and out the door.
“Her older sister graduated from the General Studies course two years ago,” he replied, but then lowered his voice to whisper conspiratorially, “But I’m pretty she might also have hacked into the systems.” He flashed a brilliant grin and bumped his shoulder gently against Shouta’s. “Either way, I wanna hear all the good stuff!”
As Shouta followed along behind Shirakumo, trotting to keep up with the taller boy’s strides, he reminded himself not to get too used to this.
Nobody had really seen his Quirk in action yet. That was usually when everything fell apart.