One year later…

Finally. After months of kickboxing classes, Karate training, a strict sleeping regiment, and living and breathing the footage from last years' Sports Festival, here I was. Walking through the doors of U.A. High school. Those crazed, feral red eyes still haunted my nightmares. But after the entrance exam, I'd be one step closer to my goal.

Destroying Katsuki Bakugo.

A girl my age with blonde hair smiled and waved. "Hi! You're here for the exam too?"

I gave her a brief nod, brushing past her.

She cleared her throat. "Well, um...good luck! Hopefully, we're classmates after this!"

Her voice was so damn cheerful. It made me roll my eyes. Over my shoulder, I said. "I'm not here to make friends. You shouldn't be either. If you're stupid enough to cheer on your competition, then you don't belong here."

Without waiting for a response I briskly walked into the auditorium.

I hadn't lost sight of my goal. The reason I was here. But I couldn't help imagining my father sitting next to me. What would he think of me now? I've grown a little taller since last year. My muscles toned up. I cut my hair into a short bob. I started to get bad calluses on my hands so I wore white gloves. I hoped he'd notice how I've changed.

As I waited for everyone else to file in, I traced a sketch I'd done of a support item I would be requesting soon. My mother told me not to get ahead of myself, but I already knew I'd make it in.

Then Present Mic explained the requirements of the entrance exam, and my heart fell in my stomach.

Robots. We had to destroy and take down giant robots.

I held back my growl of frustration. Tears stung my eyes but I didn't let them fall. No. After all my hard work...everything I've done to prepare for this day...don't let my life end before it even starts.

My quirk was codependent. That was its fatal flaw. I couldn't initiate an attack, only counter one. Unless these robots shot lasers, which was unlikely, there wasn't much I'd be able to do against them. But it didn't change the fact that I had to try.

I scanned the room, trying to see the faces of the other applicants. There were a few visible quirks but for the most part it was hard to tell what their powers were just by looking at them. I'd have to keep an eye on them as they fought. Then I'd wait for my opportunity and strike.

~.~

I stayed in the back as we made our way to the exam grounds. Watching. Listening. There had to be someone in my group of applicants I could use. Then suddenly, the robots were upon us.

"HUH?!" A boy with bear ears and a nose exclaimed. "Where do they get the funding for these things?!"

"I really hope those bastards aren't bulletproof," another boy with red hair muttered, staring down at his hands.

I glanced over his shoulder, looking closer. Each of his knuckles looked like the barrel of a gun.

Gun Hands? I wondered. If there was a possibility he shot bullets out of his hands...then he could very well be my meal ticket.

"Crap!" He exclaimed, raising his hands up and pointing them at a robot in front of him that was fast approaching. He tightened his hands into fists and punched the air. Each punch released bullets. The crack of them was loud, just like the firing of a gunshot.

Yes! I jumped in front of him, my arms open wide.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" He cried. "Get out of the way, or - "

I took a deep breath and fixed my eyes on the bullets fast approaching my chest. I wrapped my arms around them and absorbed the force of their trajectory. I felt it humming. Buzzing. Expanding. Flowing fast. Wind surrounded the bullets and froze them where they stood. Then, slowly, the bullets started to spin again, but this time with double the force they had before.

Then I flipped my body so I was falling backward, and shoved my arms out in front of me, shooting the bullets at the robot's face.

The force was so strong it knocked the head clean off. Both pieces of the machine started falling to the ground.

I grinned, my eyes glistening. Perfect! Just like I planned.

"How did you...hey wait THAT WAS MY ATTACK! YOU STOLE IT!"

I scrambled to my feet and shot him a wicked smile. "Damn straight." I bolted towards the falling robot head and positioned myself underneath it. This would be hard, but all I had to do was the same thing I did with the bullets.

I held my breath and tightened the air around me, absorbing the kinetic energy of the falling robot part. Then I froze it in time, started to multiply and build the energy until it expanded around me, and shot the robot head clear across the street into another robot, causing a chain reaction.

Part of the trick was jumping in time before the bodies of the robots hit the ground. When they did, the force of their collapse shook the ground with the force of an earthquake tremor. I'd fall and lose my footing, like the opponents within range of me. I couldn't afford to lose a single second of time, or the timing would be off. Last year it took me ten seconds of concentrating to fully reciprocate an attack. But after a year of practice, I'd cut that time in half.

After taking down six robots, I collapsed, lying on the ground, sweat streaked across my brow. I needed water. I wish I had that support item but even if I did I doubt I'd be allowed to use it during the exam. So I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. I'd only been able to keep this up a few more times, but I was confident I'd built up enough points.

I did it. I'm in. I passed.

~.~

I was diligent in my studies. But I spent most of my time preparing for this year's annual Sports Festival. That was when I'd knock Bakugo out of the ring for good. Or so I thought.

It turned out they divided the first, second, and third years into three separate tournaments. But there had to be a way around this rule. If I only went up against my fellow first years then I wouldn't have the chance to fight Bakugo. I had to win against him and take his spot in Class 1-A.

But that wouldn't happen if I never even got to compete. After class, I marched straight to Present Mic's office.

~.~

"YOU WANNA DO WHAAAAT?!" he asked, gawking at me.

Mr. Aizawa sat in a chair next to him with his arms crossed, regarding me with confusion. "You're at the top of your class. You're one of its best fighters, despite your quirk's disadvantage. Why do you feel the need to skip a grade?"

I sat in a chair in front of them, stiff as a board. They couldn't refuse my request. They just couldn't, or I might as well have never applied to this school at all. "I can't become a hero until I conquer my fear. I won't be able to do that as a first-year."

"I don't understand the connection," Mr. Aizawa replied.

Present Mic frowned, getting teary-eyed. "Do you really hate being in my class that much?" He asked with a quiver in his voice.

I flushed awkwardly. "N-no, of course not! I love being in your class!"

"Then why the hurry?" Mr. Aizawa asked.

My jaw tightened. "I want the opportunity to compete against the second years in the Sports Festival."

They both looked at each other, taken aback. "But they have a year's worth of experience on you," Present Mic pointed out.

"Agencies scout for sidekicks during the festival. If they see the second years wiping the field with you, it could ruin your chances of going pro," Mr. Aizawa warned.

"That won't happen," I promised, gazing at them both determined.

"I admire your confidence, but - "

" - Please do not mistake my request as a sign of arrogance," I pleaded, bowing my head. "On the contrary. I know I have a great deal to learn and despite being ahead of my classmates I still feel leagues behind from where I need to be."

Present Mic shook his head. "But why?"

I clenched my eyes shut as tears started to fall. "I'm begging you," I sobbed. "Please let me fight the second years! If I'm not able to...then...I'll drop out."

Present Mic gasped. "Hibiki-kun! You're one of the brightest students I've ever had!"

"One of the best to get enrolled in the hero course," Aizawa added. "Your grades are exceptional. Your performance in class exercises always exceed expectations - "

" - NONE OF THAT MATTER IF I CAN'T - " I cut myself off once I realized I was yelling. "Please. This means everything to me. If I can't have the chance to compete against them...then everything I've done for the past year will have been for nothing."

A heavy silence hung over Present Mic's office. Then finally, it was broken.

Present Mic scratched his chin. "You said you can't become a hero until you conquer your fear. What exactly is it that you're afraid of?"

I lifted my head up and without a moment's hesitation I swallowed and answered, "Katsuki Bakugo."

Mr. Aizawa's eyes widened. Present Mic scratched his head, peering at me curiously. "Okay...then...how would participating with the second years help?"

"I must face him in a duel and win. Only then will I be confident in my quirk and feel I've truly earned my place at U.A."

Present Mic sighed deeply, putting his face in his hands. "You've got moxie, I'll give you that."

Understanding registered on Mr. Aizawa's face. "So you don't want to compete against all the second years, just Bakugo."

I wiped my face, pushing my hair out of my eyes. "I'm prepared to fight the others as well. If that's what I have to do."

Aizawa got up and paced slowly, deep in thought. "Let's say I talked this over with Principal Nezu, and we grant you approval of this request - "

" - No way! I could barely watch Bakugo fight Uraraka! And those two were in the same grade!"

"Let me finish," he grumbled, rubbing his temples. To my surprise, Mr. Aizawa kneeled in front of me, looking into my face with a serious expression. "Even if we let you participate in the second years' sports festival...it's not a guarantee you'll get to fight Bakugo. The one-on-ones are randomized - "

" - If the two best competitors are pitted against each other in the last duel, then he and I will be the last ones standing," I declared firmly.

He took a deep breath. "What do you hope to accomplish by doing this?" he asked me. "What would winning a fight against him achieve?"

I couldn't keep the darkness out of my tone. "I plan to take his spot in your class."

Aizawa broke out into a wide grin. "Man, kid...you're somethin' else."

Present Mic glared at him. "Shota, as her Homeroom teacher, I'm putting my foot down and declining this crazy - "

" - I'll bring your request to Principal Nezu," Mr. Aizawa said, straightening back up and briskly heading for the door.

"SHOTA IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP - "

" - If he approves your request, then there's something you should know," Mr. Aizawa muttered over his shoulder at me.

I stood up out of my chair, hanging on his every word.

"Whatever preparation you've done to compete against my students was child's play. They've grown leaps and bounds since last year's festival. You would be at a severe disadvantage in a fight against any one of them, and that's sugarcoating it. To be honest with you, I don't think you'll get the outcome you want out of competing with them." He turned his body so he was facing me again, a dark glint in his eye. "But I can't wait to watch."