54.9 kilograms is 121 lbs (This might be helpful for my imperial people later, as it comes up. But these characters would not use pounds so….)

Kyouya was pretty sure he'd packed lightly, so he didn't know why he could barely carry his suitcase off the ferry. He was pretty sure he was holding up the line, slowing down the passengers behind him. But getting flustered would have slowed him down even more.

Once he could get onto the deck and step out of everyone's way, he dropped his luggage and pulled out his phone, where he had saved a map of the island. The train station was right on the other side of the docks. He could make it that far. From then he had to take the line south to the hotel. Luckily, the island didn't have an overabundance of rented living, so the path was pretty straightforward. He poketted his device, having memorized the address, and tried again to heft his suitcase up. He should have just caved and splurged on a suitcase with wheels. But when his dad left after Ichiro's accident, his mom could barely pay the monthly mortgage as it was. He didn't know how much longer he'd have his childhood home to go back to in Nagasaki.

Thankfully his stay at the hotel was funded by HIA, or his mom wouldn't have let him go.

Once in the station, he had to set down his bag again. Were his workouts making him weaker? His stuff was giving him a crick in his neck.

He bought a ticket and shuffled toward his train line, which was empty for the moment, but the trains ran through the dock station every ten minutes or so. The station was the only heading inland, where the city was. Or so his research had told him. He waited.

A hand tugged at his hood. "Yo."

Kyouya swayed at the surprise and looked behind him. A short kid looked up at him, yellow eyes big and wide, memorable against her blue pixie-cut. She wore her goggles like a headband.

"Hey. Um," she rubbed the back of her neck. She wasn't that much younger than him, he realized. She just looked it in her oversized overalls. "So, I think our luggage got mixed up or something on the ferry." She spoke with a light accent, but it was hard to place with her informal speech.

Kyouya glanced down at his worn blue suitcase, which he was pretty sure was his, and then at the same suitcase she gripped in her hand. What were the chances two people had the same old carry-on that didn't have wheels?

"Ah." His cheeks heated up and he offered out the bag he was holding. "Sorry. I must have grabbed this one by accident. No wonder it was… Not the same weight."

She took it, looking relieved, and swapped the other one into his hand. Kyouya's eyes widened. It was like a twenty kilogram difference. How hadn't he noticed they were different bags before he lugged it off the ferry?

"Do you need help with that?"

The girl looked up, clearly straining under the weight. Her arms shook, her entire frame weighed down.

"How much does that weigh?" He shook his head.

"Fifty-four point nine kilograms." Then she dropped the bag onto the concrete and opened it where they stood.

Kyouya was always one to mind his own business, but he just had to ask. "You brought bricks onto a ferry?"

One by one, she pulled the bricks out, stacking them against the wall. "It… made it easier for me to carry my suitcase."

"I'm sure," he deadpanned. "That's got to be more than you even weigh."

Done de-bricking her case, she zipped it closed and wiped her chalky hands onto her overalls. "That's exactly what I weigh."

He wasn't a conversationalist, so he didn't think he'd say much more anyway as the train slowed down at the station. Now with his real suitcase, he was one of the first onto the car.

"You're headed to the city too?" The girl had followed him onto the train. He nodded. There weren't enough people to fill the entire train, so he took one of the seats and set his bag on his lap. The girl looked around at the other passengers, all yuppies or older people, then shrugged and snagged the seat beside him. Better her than some creepy old-guy, he figured.

For the first few minutes, the ride was quiet. Kyouya took to writing the addresses he'd memorized in his address book, in case he couldn't use his phone to look it up again. Ever since his dad had left, his cell phone service had been shoddy.

The girl beside him shifted, and he caught sight of the twitter post she was reading on her phone. It was some article about Microwave, a hero from Osaka who had been killed in the line of duty recently—he guessed from the picture. But he couldn't read the comments.

"Are you Chinese?" It would fit her accent.

She glanced up, shaking her head. "I'm Hong Kongese."

Sheepishly, he looked away. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to assume." Or creep on you by reading your phone over your shoulder.

She shrugged.

"Do you like heroes?" he found himself asking. He couldn't help it. The topic was all that consumed him for months, and there wasn't anyone to talk to about it back home. Not his classmates. His dad wasn't even home anymore. And his mom had told him to pack light for when he came home after the entrance exams. It would be nice to talk to someone who didn't know what his quirk was.

"You could say that." She nodded cryptically. And then it hit him.

A foreigner, middle-school to high school age, on their way to the metropolis of the island. At this time of year.

"You're taking the entrance exam for Heroes International."

Her brows shot up. "Y-yeah, how'd you…" She shook her head. "Yeah. I'm taking it Monday."

Kyouya nodded. "Same here." There were testing days throughout the whole week, since HIA did a different testing model than most other Hero schools. Only a dozen or so students tested at a time, so they needed more than a few days. He would say it was a coincidence they were taking it the same day, except of course that's why they were arriving as early as they were.

"So what's your quirk?" It was asked out of pure curiosity.

He looked away. "I'd rather not get into it."

She leaned in. "Worried we might be pitted against each other in the exam?"

The thought hadn't crossed his mind.

"Don't worry. They keep the details of the test a secret, but a friend of mine said they never test the students against each other. If anything, they'll make us work together. You know, like how real heroes have to."

He didn't know how to respond, so he just nodded.

"So it's okay if we know each other's quirk, is my point." For once, she grinned, as if to encourage him.

"Spoken like someone with a cool quirk," he joked.

She rubbed the back of her wild hair again, clearly pleased. "I guess mine is pretty cool…"

"Mine's not," he said with a straight face. She giggled.

Then she shifted in her seat again. "Woah."

Kyouya craned his neck to see her staring out the car window. They really didn't have windows in most Nagasaki trains. They went so fast that it could make people sick. But here, they shot out of a mountain tunnel onto raised tracks, yawning into the beautiful metropolis in the distance.

"Look at all the skyscrapers," she breathed, her eyes huge. "I didn't think there'd be so many on this small of an island."

"HIA brings a lot of business and revenue," he explained, recalling his research on the island. "It's like they cut a slice of Tokyo and dropped it next to a mountain."

"Can I take a picture?"

Taken aback, he blinked. "Uh."

She held up her cell phone, the newest model if he wasn't mistaken. "Of the two of us, I mean. Just for the memory."

He was pretty sure he had some wind-tossed-hair going on from the ferry ride. "Sure."

She tilted her head toward his, extended her arm. Kyouya saw his face in the screen as she lined up their heads with the window as a backdrop.

Messy black hair, black eyes, crazy bags underneath. He didn't even try to smile. But he looked like he might be a serial killer next to the girl, who was grinning with her tongue out. So he threw up a peace sign. The skyscrapers towered over them in the background.

"I'm Zhongxin Nell, by the way," she said. "That's what everyone calls me."

He leaned away, the picture taken. "Akiyama Kyouya."

She offered a smile as the train began to slow from its speedy descent. "Good luck on the entrance exam. Maybe I'll see you in class."

"Next."

Kyouya approached the sign-in desk as the applicant before him, a guy with some sort of heteromorphic quirk, darted off. The man sitting behind it thumbed through a stack of papers.

"Name?"

Once spoken, he was handed a sheet with his photo and name on it. He recognized it as the registration form.

"Sign here." The man tapped a line at the bottom. Kyouya read the clause. 'Great',' he thought. 'Now Mom can't sue them if I end up getting killed.' He signed the line and exchanged the paper for a sticker.

"That's your testing number," the man explained, reading off a prompt. "Please place it on a visible portion of the body. If the sticker is damaged or lost before the exam, please report back here to get a new one. Without it, you may not be graded on the exam."

He stuck it on over his heart on his gray hoodie.

"Please report to the waiting area for the explanation of the rules. We'll call your name when your testing group is up."

Kyouya slipped past the desk and found a closed off circle full of kids. Examinees, he corrected. There were probably thirty students inside, all standing despite the row of chairs offered. Guess nerves did that to people. He'd never seen so many foreigners in one place, not to say there weren't a fair number of Japanese among them. He searched, but didn't see Nell.

After him, about twice as many students piled in within the span of an hour, including a familiar girl with goggles in her blue hair. She didn't seem to notice him, instead seeming more interested in the walls and, for some reason, ceiling.

They wouldn't have had time to catch up anyway, however, when a TV monitor suddenly swung away from the wall, beeping until each examinee was glued to the screen.

A man in a top hat appeared, and Kyouya gasped at his visage. There were bones instead of skin, no visible muscle to justify his typical-human movement, except what appeared to be a normal human face under a plate-like mask painted like a cartoon skull. The skin of his under eyes were visible, dusty blond hair peeking out from under the hat. He wore a three piece, complete with a cape and bow-tie.

"Hola, mis amigos!" The Spanish was elementary enough for him to understand. "Welcome to Heroes International Academy. I hope your travels have been safe and valuable."

The get-up and skeleton quirk finally clicked into place in Kyouya's head. It was the principal of the school, Conde Heuso, a former pro-hero. He was pretty hardcore. People were pretty surprised when he retired early to found a school. It was hard to imagine such a skilled fighter liking kids that much. It was even harder to imagine the costumed man before him was a legendary agent of justice. Right then, he looked more like a cartoon character with a cheesy smile painted on.

"At this school, we value education and safety above all else—even the hero profession. That being said, our mission is to raise the next generation of heroes around the world, and not just in Japan. Where there are quirks, there are villains. Every country needs heroes. Here at HIA, we emphasize the importance of working with others, with those who are different from us."

The students clapped politely. But if they were here, they valued the same things. HIA wasn't just a throw-away hero school—It was actually one of the most difficult to get into in the whole world. They only accepted thirty hero-course students a year, fifteen per first year class. With hundreds of applicants a year, that was a pretty tiny acceptance margin.

But Kyouya had known all this before he'd sent in his registration. He just kept hoping he'd get lucky.

"Here are the rules of your exam—You'll be assigned randomly into groups of three, and then placed inside a simulation in which you'll be monitored by a room of judges. From that point, your group will have thirty minutes to rescue a damsel in distress!"

The room murmured. Part of the papers they signed was an NDA, as other examinee waves had done, so there hadn't been a way to look up that information before.

"One more catch," Conde Hueso continued, holding up a white-gloved finger. "Of course, it may turn out that no one in your group of three passes the exam. But the maximum allowed to pass from any group… is one examinee."

The crowd grew restless. Kyouya realized he was sweating.

"That's pretty extreme," commented a tall American in steady Japanese. "What if two members of the same group are more qualified than anyone else?"

The question was left unanswered—because the mic was only one-way or because it was a recording, Kyouya didn't know. But with that, almost all of his hope was crushed. These stipulations completely screwed him over. He didn't have a flashy quirk. He closed his eyes.

Well, what was he going to do about it? Not take the exam? That wasn't an option.

"Hunter will be your proctor for the rest of the exam," the principal sing-songed. "Remember; it is our differences that make us strong. Good luck!" The screen turned black.

A buff, blond man with Crocodile eyes and patches of scales stepped into the room with a clipboard. He was clad in khakis from head to foot, a safari hat and heavy goggles hiding most of his face. He spoke with an Australian accent, brandishing a roll of white tape.

"One more thing. If an opponent captures you with this tape, you fail the exam. Alright, first group, we're ready for you inside. Surnames first, then given names. That's Cocomo Undré, Taylor Theodore, and Pan Zexi. You're up, boys."

Kyouya stepped aside as a black kid in a raincoat and a serious face pushed to the front of the crowd, horns protruding from his temples. The tall American joined him, Kyouya getting a better look at him. He was well-built and athletic, definitely handsome, with a strong jaw, black hair, and striking green eyes pronounced by dark features. Kyouya blushed.

"Americans." A girl sighed somewhere close to him. "They're like movie stars." She herself sounded Japanese, despite her green skin and pink hair.

The final group member was a boy with the head of a dragonfly.

"Guess we wait for the next half-hour," he sighed. His nerves were already teetering on the edge, and he was almost nauseous.

He'd been told all this time that he didn't have a chance. There was a part of him that had always known that, always prepared for the worst, a life as a salaryman. But another part had let the warnings in one ear and out the other. He'd put all his eggs in this basket—not literally, since his sensei had made him apply to two other non-hero schools, but emotionally. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't make it into Heroes International. It was all that had consumed him since Ichiro.

Since before Ichiro. The one thing that tied him to the person he was before he'd lost his brother. This interest, this hope that he'd come to HIA and be a hero.

The wait might literally kill him. That was a thing—stressed induced heart attacks.

"Hey, Luggage Thief." Nell leaned into his field of vision with a wave. "I thought you might like to know that you got me a lot of likes on instagram with your picture." She averted her eyes, her cheeks dusted pink. "Lotta comments from thirsty ladies."

Kyouya's mind went blank as his cheeks grew warm, too. "Don't show me."

Nell shook her head. "Wasn't gonna." She took her spot next to him awkwardly, the only other indication they weren't long-time friends besides her restless rocking. Kyouya wondered if she felt awkward that most of the other examinees seemed to have acquaintances or friends to talk to. Many of the foreigners traveled together for safety and comfort. It was kind of weird that she'd traveled all this way alone. "Is it me, or is everyone here, like, crazy intense looking?"

"Just you," Kyouya ribbed, surprising even himself. Ichiro had always been the joker, not him.

She shook her head back and forth vigorously, her hair shaking before popping back into its wild way. "Seriously, there's some scary people here. Did you see the guy with the horns? I'm glad he's not in my group."

"I hope we're not in the same group," Kyouya murmured. He wanted Nell to pass as much as him, at this point. "That would really suck."

"No kidding." She grinned in jest. "For you."

Their heads shot up when a bell dinged, and the doors to the simulation opened. The first group stepped out, looking entirely unscathed. But the dragonfly kid and the horn guy looked extremely perturbed, and the American wore a poker face.

Nell had broken into a nervous sweat. "Yo. That only took them five minutes."

Kyouya's hand shot to his phone to check the time. "Not even," he breathed.

That stone he'd felt before settled in his gut once again. He wouldn't even be competition for these guys.

When Nell was called, he feared his nerves would swallow him up.

"Mecuro Abigail, Nathan Ajith, and Zhongxin Nicole."

A black girl with twin buns bounced up to the doors, popping a bubble of gum in her mouth and grinning wickedly. "Showtime."

"Nicole?" Kyouya asked, recognizing the third surname.

"Nell's a nickname." She took a breath to psych herself up. "Wish me luck."

"Wished," he said.

The trio disappeared into the testing room. Kyouya found a chair and put his head in his hands. Whatever he was doing, it wasn't working. Bile touched his tongue.

He needed to calm down.

Kyouya sighed and let his mind drift, thinking back to all those nervous nights before big tests, his brother rubbing his back and telling him to breathe.

You've worked for this, Kyou. It has nothing to do with luck, anymore. You'll do fine.

He repeated this like a mantra until the doors burst open again. The black girl—another American—bounded out with a spring in her step. Kyouya furrowed his brow in concern. That confidence was hard to read.

But Nell stepped out behind her, her hair as wild as ever, a healthy flush on her cheeks and nose. She grinned and shot him a thumbs up. Her American partner waved her goodbye with a smile and the group was led out of the waiting room. Their third member never looked up from the floor.

He waited. More groups went, more people didn't make the cut. Most groups used up their whole half hour. Part of him knew he would be a part of that number soon.

But that other part didn't want to believe it. So he listened to that instead.

"Akiyama Kyouya, Colt Austin, and Lin Lei—group seven. Your turn."

He almost laughed. Lucky number seven.

The crowd was dwindling, so he didn't have to fight too hard to the front of the room. Hunter waited until a lean, strawberry blond boy in lax street clothes, him, and a short Asian girl with long hair, a strand of her bangs braided and tied with a flower pin, stood at attention.

"You have thirty minutes starting when you walk through the door," Hunter said, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Phones in the basket here. Go on, then."

Kyouya took a shaky breath and shoved his hands into his front pocket as he scouted the other boy. He must have been close to six foot, maybe a little shorter, a mop of hair and hard green eyes. It was his intense aura that threw him off more than anything. If any of his group had a chance to make the cut, it was this kid and his athletic build. He looked like he was a future hero.

He tilted his head in this weird American greeting. "Austin," he said. "Yoroshiku."

Kyouya nodded back.

The girl spoke before he could introduce himself. "We all heard Hunter read our names. Shall we go in?" Kyouya sent his attention her way. She had a black windbreaker over a red shirt and loose joggers. With her red sneakers, she looked athletic enough.

Austin shrugged, and together the trio pushed inside.

Nell was submitted by miss trillian.

Theodore was submitted by Luke5921.

Abigail was submitted by Savememe.

Austin was submitted by Smithy55.

Lin Lei was submitted by Despol12.

Will there be a class 1-b? Yes. Will I include them? I don't know. That's a lot of kids. I'm just going to worry about this class for now.

On a side note, for some annoying reason I keep typing Kyouya as 'Kyoura', so if you happen to catch that, please let me know so I can fix it. Lol. I guess I formed the habit before this fic even really started.

I've also made the decision to take the apostrophe out of Heroes International. Didn't like it. It looked ugly.

My intention with the movie star comment was not meant to imply all Americans are really good looking, but to imply that Theo really is, and that from my understanding there is sometimes that stereotype out there. There's also the stereotype that we're all obese and or terrible people, so… :)

I know they were told only one person from each group can pass, and that lot of submitted class members are grouped together. (Spoilers?) Don't worry about that. All cast members will make it through to be in the class.