*Helpful manga reference/spoiler: Bonus Chapter 1

III: Dads and Perverts

Springtime.

A light breeze rustled across the budding greenery of the school grounds, agitating the warming waters of the Salty Banks brook with the chill motes of winter's fading influence. Keyword: warming, not warm. Tsuyu was no stranger to this concept, and pulling the thick green scarf over her mouth and cheeks, felt silently relieved that she had dressed accordingly.

"Examination's this Monday, eh?" a dry voice inquired.

That soon?

The frog girl pulled her legs in closer to her, wrapping her arms around them tightly. "Yeah... I'll drive up with dad this weekend. He does the bulk of his work nearby anyway."

Her friend would have cocked an eyebrow if she had them, but alas, for Mongoose Habuko, being born with the head of a snake meant eyebrows were in short supply. Sunlight glinted off the mottled brown of her desiccated scales while her orange eyes gleamed fiercely. Her forked tongue flicked in and out expectantly.

"And? That's gotta be a good sign, right?"

"Not necessarily," Tsuyu replied, "pretty much anyone who fills out the application gets a shot at the entrance exam. Sometimes even quirkless applicants manage to sneak through."

Habuko's tongue twitched mid-flick. "You aren't quirkless."

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts, dumbass!" the snake girl hissed, punching her arm. "You've worked too hard to bitch out now."

The frog girl shrugged, "I say whatever is on my mind, remember?"

"Yes, and thank god you do. You'd be an absolute nightmare to read if you didn't. And that"— Habuko flicked her tongue against her friend's ear— "is exactly how I know you're such a dumbass. Pessimism is the absolute last feeling you should be nurturing right now."

"Coming from someone like you," she countered bluntly, "who was it again who said it'd be stupid for us to be friends?"

A particularly nippy breeze shook the branches above them, raining down dozens of little brown buds upon the duo. Habuko's reptilian eyes flashed a fierce auburn, and suddenly Tsuyu found herself on her back and immobile.

"Dumbassssss," Habuko hissed, glaring over her. "That was a defense mechanism. Loneliness is a horrible weakness, you know. Any idea how many times I fell for that sentimental crap in elementary school? Any idea how much it hurt?"

Tsuyu's wide eyes stared up at her friend in their usual blank manner, greeting her with the best I'd-tell-you-but-you-totally-just-immobilized-me stare she could muster. Habuko's eyes narrowed.

"You look so dumb right now, it's almost adorable," she diverted her attention to the slow waters. "Almost."

Beneath the scarf's woolen weave, Tsuyu allowed herself a smirk (or whatever it was her mouth did in situations like these) as the effects of Habuko's quirk wore off. That girl had always been quite the awkward one...

"I'm gonna miss you, you know."

Habuko stiffened at those words, and once again Tsuyu found herself on her back and unable to move. "I hate you, frog."

Habuko...

Tsuyu's fist clenched against the pavement. Wide, blank eyes started up at the pale spring sun, its rays beating down upon the broken teen with an inanimate carelessness. Seven points... nowhere near enough for an acceptance offer. She knew that fact too well, having spent hours studying the school website. The average matriculant score on the practical was a 28, and that was the ten-year average. The number had actually been climbing steadily over the past decade.

"Gero," she croaked, shielding her eyes from the sunlight.

The weight of the situation pressed down upon her as a slimy lump coalesced at the back of her throat. What now... What now?

Unsure, she lay there, splayed out across the street with arms over her eyes. Perhaps if she was still enough, she could sink into the ground and get away from it all. Away: yes, that didn't sound too bad.

"Uh, you okay?" the short kid she had saved earlier peered down at her with curious eyes. His face was still tear-streaked. "Looked like you hit your head falling backward..."

He turned towards the damage caused by that skyscraper of a robot. The punch's impact was only feet— he gulped— only feet from where he managed to pop free. A massive web of cracks spread from the impact site, with force of the blow sufficient to drive the automaton's fist wrist-deep into the ground.

"Thanks," he jerked a thumb towards the deactivated behemoth. "I, uh, would've been screwed otherwise."

His savior remained unresponsive, still staring up at the sky, black hair fanned out across the asphalt. Not that he was looking at her face, of course. He bent low, eyes level with her chest. "You don't talk much, do you?"

His voice trailed off, eyes wandering past her neckline...

"—D'oh!" Her fist knocked lightly against the side of his head.

"Eyes up, little one."

"Little one?! Little one?! Well I'll have you know that—D'OH!" a sticky slap collided with his cheek. "Ouch! Easy on the head! Sensitive..."

"You're worse than my little brother." She was on her feet now, staring down at him with the usual expressionless mask she'd come to accept. "I always say what's on my mind. You and I both know you deserved it."

"But I—"

"Don't even," she turned away from him, scanning the streets for a way out. "This has been a horrible day."

"You and me both..." the short kid groaned, brushing chunks of debris away from the glistening growths atop his head. He pointed towards a bend in the street two blocks back. "Exit's that way."

The two walked across the debris-strewn road in silence. Well, almost.

"Twenty-two... twenty-three and... wait a sec, oh! Twenty-four..." her shorter companion muttered, pointing to several immobilized one-point drones pinned down by dozens of his purple growths. "Three were worth two points and one was worth three, so add five..."

Tsuyu's heart sank.

"Add in the two by the entrance... that brings us to—"

"Could you please not?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," the boy looked up from his counting, rubbing the back of his head, "can't help but be nervous, right?"

Tsuyu tapped her lip, looking down. "Something like that."

Her companion opened his mouth as if to say something but thought better of it and looked ahead. A line of buses was parked just beyond the gates of the combat zone. Examinees in varying degrees of dishevelment were loading themselves onto whichever ones had open seats.

"Looks like they're shuttling us to the main hall again," her companion commented. A slim blond boy with a lightning bolt-shaped highlight waved at him from a nearby shuttle, flashing a cheeky grin and jabbing a thumb backwards. The short kid smirked.

"Seems I got myself a seat saved..." He chanced an awkward smile before extending his hand. "Name's Mineta."

"Asui." She replied, taking it. "Just Asui."

"Hope you get in, then, Asui— Oh! And, uh, thanks for"— his already high voice cracked as he awkwardly pointed back towards the battle zone—"you know."

She shrugged. "I'd be a pretty horrible hero if I didn't."

Eventually, she managed to find a seat in the back of a coach-style shuttle. The teal rows of seats were carpeted and plush, carrying with them that same stale aroma she'd come to associate with the airplanes on which she'd flown during her early childhood: back when she too small to be left unsupervised at home, so her mother would spirit her across the country whenever the consulting firm needed a new model. Mother...

She knot in her stomach returned. What would she tell her?

Alone, the crushing weight of reality once again came to rest on her shoulders. With a blank gaze, she stared out the window as the shuttle hummed out the parking lot and past the other battle zones.

"Look!" An applicant shouted from the front row.

Battle zone B came into view, a massive plume of angry black smoke billowing up from within in the walls.

"Such destruction..." a red-haired boy she recognized from earlier leaned out from the row in front of her."Seems I've been one-upped."

Tsuyu's eyes narrowed with interest. This was the same kid who sword-armed the drone in the alleyway.

"Bit more than that, Kirishima," a heavyset boy with thick lips piped up from the adjacent seat, crunching on a lollipop. "A friend in zone B just texted me."

"He any good?"

"Nah, dude's a scrub by the entrance standards, but he dun' talk shit," he yawned deeply, running his fingers through the rough tuft of chestnut hair perched atop his head before continuing, "some bro took on that big robot and won."

The big one? Tsuyu peeked hesitantly over the seatback.

"The zero-pointer?" the red haired kid asked, crossing his arms expectantly.

"That's what I'm assuming. Wouldn't really be news otherwise. Should'a been one planted in each zone, right?"

"Dunno for sure, but I think so," the red-haired boy replied, flexing his fist, "I knew that I should've charged that thing down. I had points to spare anyways."

"I dunno, Kirishima," his thick seatmate was shaking his head as he looked up from his phone."Apparently all it took was one punch."

"Bullshit."

A yawn. "Take it or leave it..."

Kirishima grinned, exposing sharpened teeth which gleamed like bridesmaids in the light.

"Satou, my man," he hooked a toned arm around his seatmate, "if the scrub's right, then the incoming class is gonna be absolutely stacked."

He raised his fist towards the smoky plume shrinking away into the distance, bones cracking menacingly as they hardened. "Bring it!"

Of course, poor Tsuyu didn't see or care to hear any of this as she shrunk back into her seat. Her mind flashed back to the behemoth she had faced just minutes earlier. How it dwarfed even the three pointers she struggled to outmaneuver, let alone dismantle. How she barely managed to rescue even the smallest of applicants from its threat, to say nothing of a head-on assault.

One punch? Even All Might—

Her hand twitched against the armrest as the realization hit her.

I'm screwed.

Glaring over the sea of cars, Ganma Asui surveyed the vast expanse that was the U.A. parking lot. His wide jowls twisted downward into that same perpetual scowl his co-workers had grown to fear and respect. The fading spring sun glinted pleasantly across the beetle-like hulks, its light interrupted only by a massive column of smoke billowing up from the school grounds.

His beady yellow eyes narrowed. Just what exactly did he allow his daughter to sign up for, again? Beru would kill him if anything went wrong...

Thin tendrils of smoke leaked from the Marlboro hanging lazily from his teeth. A sleek green Samsung cradled in his webbed grasp, its electronic drivel filling his ears with the same brand of roundabout crap he'd come to both loath and live by. Still, time was short, and all the crap in the world would not change that. He needed substance, not words, if the issue was to be resolved.

"Tenma!" he barked into the phone. "Neither of us wants to discuss excuses at this point. The only thing left to consider is how to proceed."

More crap. The massive frog man leaned back against the shining black hull of his sedan, tapping ashes from the half-spent cigarette.

"Look, this bothers me just as it does you, but the preliminary data is horrid," he paused to soldier out a particularly long drag, letting the ashen mist hang in his lungs for several moments before exhaling thoughtfully. "Absolutely horrid..."

A punctuated reply. Beady golden irises flashed as he banged his fist against the roof.

"Present it? To the board? You take me for a fool?"

The voice on the other end took on a more apologetic tone and his gaze softened.

"No, no. I'm the one who should be apologizing," he sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "We're all stressed right now, and I know I don't need to impress upon you or the team just how important it is that this trial proceeds at the hospital. All the lives it could save..."

More static, more drivel. Several puffs for good measure, chased by an amused snort.

"Yeah, our jobs as well, you selfish bastard. Heh, okay. Look"— he rubbed his eyes and yawned—"for now, we should have Assay Development and Prototyping working weekends for the next month at least. Should be enough for another meta-analysis. What?! Of course they'll be paid accordingly! First a fool, now a thief? Christ, Tenma! Of course. Yeah, l'll swing by the lab after morning rounds to ensure it's done."

He checked his watch expectantly, the cold platinum gleaming as he pulled back his suit sleeve.

"I don't know. Funding doesn't run out until August, so we can definitely try to stall for another month or so..."

The smartphone blabbered back, tone rising in pitch. A thick laugh bubbled up from the thick paunch draped over his belt buckle as he allowed himself another chuckle. "What other choice do we have? Ruk ruk ruk, just push forward with codon 13 and 61 and hope that the antibodies bind better than they did with 12. Sounds good. I know. We should definitely— Shit!"

The cigarette crumpled against the pavement as he quickly stamped it out with the textured sole of his Alfani before kicking out of sight beneath the undercarriage. He could spot that telltale mop of shiny black hair bobbing towards him in any crowd, but it never hurt to double-check. He was a man of science, after all.

"I have to let you go," he announced abruptly, clicking out of the call. "My daughter just got out."

The Audi hummed quietly past boutiques, restaurants, and the like. The sidewalks were cobbled with bright maroon bricks punctuated by chalky mortar, while the river danced with the splendor of a thousand gems in the light of the setting sun. Past the opposite bank hung the hazy skyline of the city proper, complete with glimmering chrome crossings every half mile. Had she been in a better mood, Tsuyu would have acknowledged the pleasant downtown setup. Her father's yellow gaze peered intently at her from the rear-view mirror.

"That's my hospital over there," he motioned with a thick, webbed finger towards a large glass cube of a building peeking out from the northern tip of riverside skyline. "The apartment's on this side of the river— not far by train. The GPS also says it's a twelve-minute walk to the academy. I could work from here during the school year so you'd have place to stay."

Tsuyu shrugged, resuming her blank stare out the window.

Her father frowned.

"It went that badly, eh?"

She shrugged again, bringing an index finger to her mouth.

"Well, it could have been worse, I guess. The written exam was pretty easy... but yeah," her expression darkened as she lowered her head, letting her bangs fall into her face. "I almost certainly failed the practical."

"Nothing's certain, Tsuyu," he jerked the brakes a bit too hard as an oncoming traffic light flashed red. "Absolutely nothing."

His daughter croaked from the backseat, crossing her arms.

"Didn't you tell you Mom you quit?"

Ganma adjusted his seatbelt nervously. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know I saw you smoking in the parking lot."

The rumbles of a few bullfrog laughs bubbled up from the driver's seat, "Can't get anything by you, can I? Ruk ruk ruk, we're set with keeping that between you and me, right?"

"I'm not sure if it can be between just you and me," she replied, pulling her hair out her face. "It'd be really hard to explain the cancer."

"Pfft, Frogs can't get cancer," he said. "Nice try, though."

"You aren't a frog."

"Eh, close enough," he shrugged, taking stock of his appearance while twirling the steering wheel. He grinned up at the rear-view mirror, "According to my research, that is. You sort of are, too. In fact, if my model's correct, the whole family should be immune."

The car rolled over a speed bump as Tsuyu loosed a particularly sober croak. "I am not a frog..."

"Of course not; I was speaking figuratively." The engine thumped to a halt as they pulled into a parking space. Her father craned his head back to face her, still grinning playfully. "Still, that really bothers you, doesn't it?"

His smirk dropped at the sight which greeted him. To the average man, his daughter would have appeared unreadable, wide eyes and mouth stretched flat and emotionless. Good thing he was not an average man. Marrying to a woman like Beru forced an intricate knowledge of the subtleties of the frog-like face she possessed and passed to her children: the sharpening taper near the lips when agitated, the movement of the eyes, the occasional flush of red across the cheeks.

Yup. He was pretty much a pro at this point. The relationship wouldn't have lasted two years were it not for such skills. Reading his wife was an art he had proudly mastered, and Tsuyu was no different.

"Hey," he squeezed her shoulder. "Don't get all hung up over a past you cannot change. Not while there's a future out there to be claimed. Remember the family motto?"

His daughter sighed, most likely in annoyance.

"Eyes ever forward," she murmured. "Like that ever helped with anything..."

"Anything? More like everything," his smile had returned. "Did I ever tell you about my colleague who got into U.A before switching to medicine?"

"Dr. Tenma?"

"Him? He's as quirkless as they come, ruk ruk ruk," Ganma laughed, the absurd image of his reedy colleague soaring over the Toyko skyline in a red cape flashing through his mind. "I don't think you ever met her; she works at the other lab. Anyway, I was telling her about your application, and we got talking. Told how entrance scores were drawn beyond the number of villain points earned in combat."

Tsuyu's eyes locked onto his.

"Beyond combat?"

Her father winked, mouth widening into a knowing smile. "Let's just say the ability to dispatch multiple villains within a set amount of time is not the only measure by which a hero is judged. A perfectly reasonable line of thought, wouldn't you agree?"

She blinked, clearly unimpressed. "You can't just give me a straight answer, can you?"

Ganma laughed. "What kind of fun would that be?"

He gently hooked his finger under the pale taper of her chin.

"Chin up, Tsuyu. You've handled so much more than most kids your age: taking care of Samidare and Satsuki, keeping the house in working order, and pursuing heroic aspirations—all while keeping your grades top notch."

Tsuyu croaked, rubbing her elbow bashfully. Her father was a busy man; a lengthy audience— let alone praise— was a rarity for her.

"I am proud to call you my daughter," Ganma continued forcefully, his yellow eyes twinkling in the dim light of the garage. "You've got a strong mind and an even better heart. No acceptance letter or lack thereof will change that."

His daughter looked away, cheeks reddening as she unlatched the car door, backpack in tow.

"Thanks, dad."

The two made their way through the parking garage in silence, both their futures uncertain, yet stubbornly hopeful. Quirks or not, some things – it seemed – never changed.

To be continued.

A/N: And that's a wrap! Apologies on the slight delay; I had to move and did not have access to wifi for a week. Hope you liked Tsuyu's father; I have a pretty cool arc planned for him later on. I don't plan on putting OC's in this story, so I'll probably flesh out minor characters to compensate.

Thanks to everyone who's faved/subbed/reviewed. This is by far the most attention I've ever gotten on a story and I'm loving how it's progressing! On that note, I added in a quick tease in chapter one (I noticed the first chapter lacked a hook to interest the reader) and beefed up the overall quality of writing for all three chapters to a level on par with my non-fanfiction writing. I really like this story and will treat it more seriously from here on in.

As always, comments/critiques are welcome. I experimented a lot with dialogue in this chapter so let me know if it works.

Happy Friday and see you next week! Things should pick up now that we're on our way to U.A!

Peace, Love, Plus Ultra,

-Nucleophile