I take it back. Akira ducked under a speeding tennis ball. Chiyo-sensei isn't adorable, she's a goddamn demon. He yelped as one of them hit his shoulder as he got up.
"Get moving, dearie! We've still got daylight to burn!" Chiyo grinned from behind the ball machine.
"Why are we—" Akira let out a small shriek as he dodged another ball. "—doing this again?!"
"As a pro hero, you must be able to think rationally under immense pressure! It also serves as agility training! Two birds with one stone!" Chiyo looked quite pleased with herself. "Speaking of rational thinking…"
"You come across an injured person, what do you do?" she demanded.
Akira hastily replied, "Check my surroundings, then check the patient's airway, breathing, and circulation!"
"Correct! You've just removed a piece of shrapnel from your patient, how do you proceed?"
"Stop the bleeding and—"
"Trick question! Never remove a foreign body from your patient without a surgical team standing by!" With that, she turned a dial on the machine, which began to hum louder. The tennis balls started coming out with a higher speed and frequency.
Akira shrieked as he threw himself to the ground in order to avoid yet another tennis ball, whizzing by his ear. He scrambled to get up and tried to move his aching body in a feeble attempt to evade.
Chiyo cackled. "Dodge, my cute little apprentice! Dodge!"
Akira adjusted his scarf before he got off the train and shivered as he stepped on to the platform. Winter was by far his least favorite of seasons. He climbed down the stairs and followed the directions Chiyo-sensei had texted him.
It was a medium-sized dojo. Not decrepit, but not brand new either. The wood was worn and scuffed with age. Akira cautiously knocked on the door. Heavy steps creaked the wood from the other side of the door, which slid open a moment later. Akira was met with a very tall, very muscular man wearing a mask. If that didn't make him stand out, his spiked grey hair and massive steel bracers finished the job.
"Ah! You must be Suzuki-kun! Come in, come in." He practically dragged Akira into the building. Akira spotted Chiyo, who raised a hand in greeting.
"Akira-kun! Glad you could make it. I have someone to introduce you to." She gestured to the tall man, who was resting one hand on his hip and waved with the other, to which Akira blushed slightly. "This is the Battle Hero, Gunhead."
"Recovery Girl has told me quite a lot about you. I'll be teaching you some self-defence." Gunhead pumps his heavily muscled arm. "This is going to be great!"
Akira raises an eyebrow to Chiyo. "How'd you manage to land him?"
She smiled mischievously. "I do recall mentioning that heroes hoard favours, did I not?"
Akira shrugged and moved over to join Gunhead. After doing some warm-up stretches, Gunhead informs him that he'll be instilling some foundations rather than going in-depth. First up was Akira's fighting stance. He was instructed to lean forward slightly, and keep the knees bent. This was to ensure a low and stable centre of gravity. Arms are to be kept up at all times, and ideally positioned to protect his head.
A couple hours passed before Akira asked, "While these defensive moves are great, what if I have to attack someone?"
Chiyo, who had been contently reading magazines, interjected. "If you've any ideas about going on the offense, get them out of your head now," she snorts. "As a medic, your duty is to be the last person on your team to go down. Even then, you should ideally be staying out of fights. This training is merely a precaution."
Everything clicked together, and Akira jumped at the realization. "So the agility training…?"
Chiyo smiled and tilted her head. "Avoiding hits is your top priority in a combat situation—well that, and running to a more qualified fighter."
With a tangible objective in mind, Akira steeled himself, renewing his training with more vigour. And if anyone ever accused him of sneaking peeks at Gunhead's abs, he'd accuse them of lies and slander.
February rolled around much more quickly than Akira could have anticipated. It felt like eons ago when Chiyo had called him to that office. But somehow, it had only been nine months. The days had blurred together with endless amounts of studying and training. But finally, judgement day had arrived, as Akira took his first steps on to U.A.
He adjusted his heavy wool coat, and it was still cold enough for his breathes to come out in puffs. He tilted his head upwards, staring at looming buildings ahead. There were a myriad of other students, all heading the same way. Some were dressed similarly to him in winter wear, while some wore their middle school uniform.
His sneakers tapped along the brick pavement as he approached the entrance. In his peripheral vision he saw a floating boy accompanied by a brown-haired girl. A peculiar sight, but not completely out of place given that this was a school for heroes-in-training.
As he made it inside the building, he was greeted with the sight of a ghoulish-looking man, who wore a tan trench coat. Ectoplasm, he recognized. Chiyo-sensei liked to talk about her co-workers. Akira bet he was the only teen in Japan that knew Ectoplasm loves karaoke.
Ectoplasm handed Akira a card, reading Examinee 7112.
"This is your number, please don't lose it. Find your corresponding seat once you're in the examination room." Ectoplasm said. Akira nodded and found his way down the halls towards the exam room. Luckily, there were quite a few signs and posters put up pointing towards it.
The exam room was quite large. It caved in downwards, identical to lecture halls found in universities. Rows upon rows of desks filled the room. Some people had managed to find their seat, but most were in a similar predicament to Akira and were overwhelmed. Eventually, he figured out where he was supposed to sit—with some trial and error.
He already had a seatmate. A formal looking boy sat in seat 7111 with his back ramrod straight and a stern expression in his eyes. I've seen statues with laxer posture, Akira mused. He took his seat and smiled politely at the boy, who nodded in return.
There was still a bit of time until the written exam started. When in doubt, small talk. He turned towards the boy. "Nervous?"
He shook his head. "Of course not! I have been studying for the written portion for months, in addition to rigorous training for the practical exam!" he said making a chopping gesture into his open palm.
Akira snorts ruefully. "That makes one of us, I guess. I'm mostly worried about the practical."
The boy nods understandingly. "I can see how that may be nerve wracking, yes. I am Iida Tenya, are you applying for Heroics as well?"
Akira nods. "Suzuki Akira. Indeed I am."
Iida grinned widely. "Perhaps we may share the same class together."
Akira returns the gesture. "Who knows? Anyways, good luck to you, Iida-san."
"And to you as well, Suzuki-san."
The exam began. Papers were handed out and pencils scribbled at lightning fast speeds. Akira was certain that he got the science portion in the bag. History and mathematics… not so much.
When all the exams were collected, Present Mic sauntered up on stage and grabbed the microphone.
"Welcome to today's live performance!" his voice boomed across the entire hall, causing most—including Akira—to cringe at the sheer volume. Present Mic held out his ear, as if waiting for a resounding cheer from the audience.
Silence.
Tenacious as he is, he simply trots on. "Well, that's cool, my examinee listeners!" He holds his hand up high in the air. "I'm here to explain the guidelines of your practical! Ready?! YEEEEAAAAH!"
Somebody coughed in the distance, but that was about a DJ, one would think Mic could read a room. Thankfully, he cut down on the theatrics, and began to properly explain the rules of the practical, explaining how they were separated into seven groups and sent to sites filled with three types of robot villains. Just as he finished explain the objective to earn points, Iida's arm shot up like a bullet.
"May I ask a question?!" He stood up and pointed to the paper. "There appears to be no fewer than four varieties of faux villains on this handout! Such a blatant error, if it is one, is highly unbecoming for U.A., Japan's top academy!"
Akira stared, mystified at how someone his age could be so high-strung. In a surprise and shock to most, Iida turned around and pointed to the curly-haired boy Akira had seen floating earlier. "You've been muttering the entire time… it's distracting!" He glared. "If this is some sort of game to you, please leave immediately!"
Akira winced. While he could admit the muttering was distracting, the poor boy look absolutely mortified at being called out on it.
Present Mic thankfully deescalates the situation. "Good catch, examinee 7111!" he then explains that the fourth faux villain is meant as an environmental hazard, not meant to be fought. After everything was said and done, they were directed to buses that were taking them to the practical exam site.
They had let everyone change into athletic wear beforehand. Most people were wearing gym clothes, but some had accessories that appeared to help with their quirks. After everyone was off the bus, they were all far to busy gawking at the site in front of them.
It was absolutely gargantuan. Practically a neighbourhood all on its own. Meanwhile, Akira was silently stewing in self-doubt. How was he supposed to take down robots with a quirk useless against anything nonliving and a couple months of self-defence against human opponents?
Akira was, for all intents and purposes, screwed.
A couple meters ahead, Akira saw Iida walk up the same curly haired boy from before and grabbed him by the shoulder. He just barely manages to overhear Iida who asked him why he was here, and if he was hoping to interfere. If the poor boy was mortified before, now he looks as if his soul had ejected straight out his body.
Snickers and hushed whispers erupted amongst the students, and who gathered around in a semicircle to observe. Akira was appalled to hear things such as insults, jeers, and outright dismissals all about the boy. This is the future generation of heroes?
Disappointing. Akira didn't know what he was expecting. These were middle schoolers after all, sheltered, spoiled brats who were endlessly praised and fawned over about their quirks. The boy was practically emanating dejection, with the hunched shoulders and that face. It was like watching a kicked puppy. He was prepared to step in, and tell off Iida and the rest, when Present Mic's voice popped up.
"Begin!" he said.
Eh? was the collective thought of everyone at the exam site.
"The test has started, examinees! Run, run, run!"
The bubble of amusement had violently popped, and panic seeped in like a tsunami. There was a mad scramble to the gates, people elbowing each other for just the slightest head start.
It was overwhelming, chaotic, and pandemonium at it's finest. Everyone was busy fighting their own robot, and Akira was already behind the rest. He tried searching for an unoccupied target, and spotted a 1-Pointer separate from the 'herd'.
Akira ran towards it, heart pounding, and doing his best to remember his training. Gunhead's words flashed through his head. Everybody has a weakness. Find it, and take advantage.
Akira's eyes raked over the robot, who had just detected him and start to speed towards him. His heart leapt to his throat and he just barely jumped out of the way.
While its back was turned, Akira took the opportunity to look at some of the wiring that was exposed on its back. There.
Akira started a sprint towards the robot, but it belied its size, it turned around rather quickly. The 'eye' flashed red, and the gatling gun on its arm was pointed at him. Ah, shit.
Akira practically threw himself to the side and behind some debris. Not even seconds after, the sound of bullets filled the air and he felt the vibrations. What kind of school shoots at their potential students?! He saw the bullets riddling the ground. Well, rubber bullets, but still!
The motor of the gatling gun gradually slowed down to stop. Akira risked a peek and saw that it was either out of bullets or reloading. Either way, it was his chance.
He bolted and ran towards the robot. As he got within range, it swung it's massive arm. His run turns into a slide on the ground, the pinpricks of pain on his legs from the rubble undoubtedly leaving a few scrapes.
Akira managed to find a foothold on the robot's plating and jumped, straddling the robot. He tried to determine what wire would turn the robot off, but time was of the essence. Akira grabs and rips all of the wires. The robot goes wild, with jerky and sharp movements. Sparks went off, and robot goes full speed ahead with Akira still on it. They were approaching a wall.
This is gonna— Akira saw stars as the 1-Pointed collided into the wall with the grace of an angry bull. His head wouldn't stop spinning and he ached everywhere. It was slightly worse at the forearm. He made an attempt to regain his wits, and pried open his eyes.
He was on the ground. Fumbling around, he managed to find some rubble to hold on to, and slowly got up. The pain from his forearm turned out to be a gash. Nothing major, a flesh wound at most. It still hurt like a motherfucker, though.
Akira observed his surroundings,checking for any stray 1-Pointers. When there were none in sight, he diverted his focus towards the gash. He willed capillaries to repair, and tissue to grow. He built the skin back up layer by layer, carefully stacking keratinocytes and other granules. When he finally finished, the new skin was pink and raw. He was starting to get a bit hungry, but his body's lipid content was still at a healthy level.
Akira's ears were assaulted with a cacophony of noises. All he could hear was the thuds of falling debris and the groan of metal. The source? A colossal robot who dwarfed the surrounding buildings. Every student had stopped fighting and were staring at the 0-pointer, who was heading straight towards them.
Nope. Not dealing with that, no siree. Akira turned and hightailed it away from the 0-Pointer along with every other student. He passed the curly-haired boy, who was on the ground trembling. He didn't look like he was gonna get up anytime soon. Damn it.
Akira pivoted, turned back, and roughly grabbed the boy by his clothes. "C'mon! We've gotta go!" he said. They had taken a couple of strides before a loud groan hit their ears. They froze and whipped around to face the brown-haired girl that Akira had seen at the entrance. She was prone on the ground, her leg stuck under a piece of fallen building. Shit.
Curly stepped forward towards the 0-Pointer, trembling but a determined look in his eye that Akira had never seen before. Another step forward, and another, and another, until he flexed his legs and flew. Akira's jaw dropped as the boy with the disposition of a terrified chihuahua soared through the air and punched the 0-Pointer, the robot's face caving in, completely destroyed. It's always the quiet ones to watch out for… Akira mused.
The shocking moment quickly faded, as gravity took affect and started to draw Curly in towards the ground.
"Help me get this rubble off!Please!" the brown-haired girl said. Akira sprinted over and helped her lift the detritus trapping her leg. As soon as she was free, she got on top of a missile launcher from a 3-Pointer and touched it. Amazingly, it began to float and her along with it. As soon as Curly got within her reach, she slapped him, of all things. His descent halted, with him hovering a few feet from the ground. The girl exhaustedly brought her fingertips together, and they both fell to the ground.
Akira came beside Curly, who looked like his limbs went a couple rounds with a meat grinder. His face was drenched with tears and snot, and was scrunched up in pain.
"Is—Is she alright?" he bit out through his sobs. Akira rolled up his sleeves and brought his hands to Curly's body. "Just needed…one more point!"
"She's fine, you're the one whose limbs turned into paste. An exam is not worth an amputation." Akira hissed. As soon as he touched Curly, the feedback made Akira recoil. The damage was…extensive, to say the least. The entire arm was bruised. His knuckles were freely torn and bleeding. He couldn't even begin to count the fractures, they were absolutely everywhere.
Akira didn't know how much time had passed. He saw the girl lose her lunch in his peripheral vision, and vaguely heard that the exam was over. Curly had long since passed out, unsurprising considering the nature of his limbs. He had just barely finished healing the humerus, when a small hand rested on his shoulder.
"That's enough, dearie. You're starting to look like a friend of mine." Chiyo said, smile on her face. She tsks at Curly's state.
"Chiyo-sensei?" Akira blearily looked at his teacher. He didn't know which friend she was talking about, but he understood the message. His clothes didn't quite fit right anymore. While never being overweight was a nice benefit of his quirk, constant emaciation was unpleasant to say the least.
"Best to let me handle him. You know better than to overuse your quirk." she said. She have the brown-haired girl a glance. "If you're adamant on helping out, check up on her." While Chiyo got to work healing Curly with a smooch, Akira hobbled over to the girl, who still looked nauseous.
"Hey, you okay?" Akira asks her. She looks up, surprised, but gives a shaky smile in the end.
"Yeah! Just nauseous. My leg is really sore but other than that, I'm fine. How is he?" she nods towards Curly.
"He's in good hands with Chiyo-sensei." She gave him a curious look at referring to Recovery Girl so familiarly. "I could take care of your leg, If you'd like."
Putting aside her curiosity, she nodded. Akira rested his hand on top of her leg, and began healing burst blood vessels and damaged muscle fibers. Little by little, the mottled bruises began to fade away.
She looked in awe. "Is this your quirk?" she gasped.
Akira smiled in amusement. "Yep. Tissue Modeling lets me control my own and other's bodily processes, including healing," His smile became strained, the day's efforts taking a toll.
She made an impressed sound. "That's so cool! You've got a really versatile quirk!"
Akira blushes and clears his throat. "Thank you. Yours looks useful as well. A gravity quirk?"
She beams "That's right!"
Akira finishes with her leg. By the end, he's looking fairly gaunt and frail. "All done."
She dips into a bow. "Thank you! I never caught your name by the way, I'm Uraraka Ochako!"
Even after an intense physical exam, this girl still has energy left. Akira flashed a tired smile. "Suzuki Akira, nice to meet you, Uraraka-san."
They saw Curly being hauled off by some U.A. staff in a stretcher. Uraraka looked determined. "I'm gonna find Present Mic! It's not fair that he saved me and ended up getting no points."
All Akira was thinking of was his bed. "Good luck with that Uraraka-san."
The remaining stuff escorted the students back onto the bus, and back to the school. Akira was sorely tempted to call a taxi, the idea of waiting for the train an unappealing one. Unfortunately, taxi's happen to clash with his budget.
After a long trip home, he stumbled into his apartment, stripped off his sweat laden clothes, and collapsed into bed. The embrace of unconsciousness was a welcome one.
It's been a week, and Akira was stewing in anxiety. There had been no letter so far, and absolutely no word from Chiyo-sensei. She hadn't answered any of his calls nor his texts. It was frustrating to say the least.
He hadn't done anything productive, too nervous to leave the house and miss the letter that decided his fate. He had checked his mailbox each morning with nothing to be found.
He had actually gotten dressed, ready to go out for a jog to exercise his worries away, when he found the mailman in his lobby. He froze, and stared intently at the mailman, eagerly looking for any letters addressed from U.A.
The mailman looked visibly unsettled at being watched by a teenager, but he continued his job. The second the mailman had placed a letter in Akira's mailbox, the boy had bolted towards it and grabbed the letter. He took the stairs back up to his apartment, taking two steps at a time, with thoughts of jogging long gone.
He fumbled with his keys, and took a minute to insert the key with shaky hands. He finally got in and pushed the door shut behind him with his foot. Forgoing a letter opener, he used a fingernail to open the letter.
Inside was a dish-shaped metal object along with a sheet of paper. He pulled it out and fiddled with it, curious as to its purpose. When it turned on with a burst of light, he yelped and dropped it, landing on the floor.
A hologram of all things appeared in front of him. It was Chiyo-sensei in her hero outfit, needle cane and all. She smiled matronly to the camera.
"Hello, Akira-kun! I don't usually do these things, ya know, but I've made a super special exception for my cute little apprentice!" she cooed. Akira rolled his eyes, but let out a smile anyways.
"Now, I'm sure you'd like to hear about your results, yes?" Even though he knew it was a recording, Akira nodded. "I'm happy to tell you that you did quite well on the written exam! You breezed through the science portion—as a result of my training, of course," she bragged. Her pride took a turn. "Your history and English left something to be desired, expect that to be the subject of our next lesson," she grumbled. Akira felt dread at the upcoming training and elation at the fact that there was upcoming training, meaning she hadn't given up on him.
She tapped her cane. "Now on to your practical exam results," she said. Akira cringed. "You scored a grand total of one villain point, one of the lowest of the examinees."
He bit his lip, the shame and embarrassment threatening to drown him. He could already hear what was coming next. You weren't good enough. U.A. only accepts the best. Someone like you isn't good enough—
"However," Chiyo-sensei interrupts his wallowing. He looked up. "Villain points weren't the only things we were looking for. As judges, we also awarded rescue points for heroic deeds, and when you came to the aid of your fellow examinees, you scored a fair few. Forty, to be exact."
Akira grabbed the paper inside the envelope with an unsteady hand. As he read the first line, his vision went blurry, and he clutched the paper to his chest. The sheer relief flowing through him dropped him to his knees. Chiyo-sensei continued.
"Congratulations, my cute little apprentice, U.A. accepts you with open arms. It is time to begin… your hero academia!"
