I don't wanna rehash cannon, yknow? So OCs. Expect OCs. Unbeta-ed, applications welcome. Just need someone to catch fragments and typos.

U.A.'s general education exam was challenging. I could have compared it to a college entrance exam from the life before, which begged the question, what were college entrance exams now like?

Or it could be that I was in Japan, and it was just ridiculously difficult by default. I had a few chocolates in my pocket, forcefully shoved by the detective who had escorted me here. Halfway through the exam I was grateful for them, but it wasn't something I was going to bring up.

The written exam was three hours long, and each desk was judiciously given an area of three square meters. The desk space was generous, and they even provided a bottle of mineral water, plastic seal intact.

It was multiple choice, with an optional essay on what makes a villain, and what makes a hero. I decided to go for it, spewing out my unfiltered thoughts. It wasn't like there was negative marking for it, so all good. I might have written a bit too frankly, given that my hand was burning in pain, itchy and aching in a way that made me want to dunk it in iced water to lose all feeling.

I leisurely walked home afterwards, thinking about the future. It felt wide and exciting at times, and then the guilt would crash in. I would stop walking and just sit on the sidewalk.

I changed course to a nearby park and sat down on a bench.

"What do I do?" I asked myself. I had to get a job. Becoming a hero to earn cash seemed like such an easy course. Perhaps I could join the military? No no, they'd shred my application the moment they'd find I was quirkless. White collar jobs? I doubted I could get things done unless I had the sheer intelligence or memorization of someone like my school principal, whose ability was also due to a quirk.

It was like everyone had one thing unique about them, and my uniqueness was that I had nothing unique. A zero in a set of integers, a bike without any gears, a pizza with no topping. Whoever would hire would feel cheated somehow, because I was incomplete. Defective.

A second chance at a life I couldn't really live out.

My grip tightened on the fabric against my knees.

If I didn't have a house to name (left as next of kin), where would I be? The foster system would be hell. I had a vague idea about the kind of horrors there's and I didn't trust myself to not rise to the bait if someone picked at my wound.

I missed father. I missed mother.

Perhaps my quirk was reincarnation. Most of the memories I had were jolted when I was reading something, or encountered something familiar. An overlapping image of how things used to be, and how they are now. I wondered if my previous life had been a sinful existence, and this was my penance.

I had talked about it with father once.

A visit to a child psychologist yielded that I may be pretending to be special due to a lack of a quirk, and it would do no good in the long run to encourage me be like this.

I never talked about it again.

Okay, imagine I get into the general education course. There's also a support course, but that's a bit too heavy on engineering for my tastes. I have the privilege to choose something other than that, but if need be, I could take some supplementary pre-requisites and transfer to that if that gave me a better chance of eking out a living.

But nowadays that's pretty much freelancing too. Hero Agencies, those who aren't family run (but come on, quirks are genetic, how can nepotism not be a thing?) hire based on ties, not raw skill. Someone would have to be a damn marketing genius and an engineering prodigy to get their name out for the big name companies that held a monopoly, or find a niche that an agency or two couldn't do without.

Even those would have some stifling contracts though. Pro Heroes were suspicious and ranking was coveted. Some families that signed onto manufacturing equipments had limits set on travel, had to even move, and unless they were just as shrewd, unable to work without NDAs.

All of that without factoring in the amount of money it required to be an inventor. Microscopes and nanotechnology was expensive, the "You can sell this machine and kick back for the rest of your live" kind of expensive. Well, if someone got born with a quirk that gave them very good eyesight, their chances of making it as a Support Hero were good. Not great, but good.

Hell, even the the predatory idol companies wouldn't pick up someone quirkless, that sort of gimmick falls short after a single headline in some random trashy online website. People that dominated the music industry were also quirk focused, highly so.

I dragged my hands down my face.

From being a scientist to a singer. Where were my thoughts leading me to? Ah, I knew the answer.

Away from the darkness of my home.

The lights were on. I blinked.

Had I not turned them off? No, that couldn't be. I was too wary of spending money ever since I became alone.

I adjusted my casual walk to suppress any sounds and walked inside.

"You sure took your time coming home." And there she is, sitting like she owns the place in a leopard print tracksuit. While I would have usually commented on the crime against fashion, there were more pressing matters.

"What happened to you?" My voice barely came out, the back of my mouth feeling constricted. Her arm was in a sling, and one of her eyes was bandaged. "No, wait, how did you get inside the house?!"

"It happens in the line of duty, young man. Anyway, how'd your exam go?" She sat back with, he face twitching minutely.

Lady, I've spent most of lives hiding injuries.

"It went fine. Hand kind of hurts though," I walked to the kitchen, rummaging one of the cabinets for some muscle relaxants I kept for personal use, and walked over to her with a glass of water. "Here."

She blinked at me.

"Just take it," I pressed, my mouth twisting. And the she smiled softly.

Don't look at me like that. Murderers don't deserve smiles.

"Thank you, how considerate of you."

"I'm not nice."

"Sure, how so not nice of you." She popped the pills into her mouth with her moveable hand, and then took the glass of water from me. "Alright, the test key is out. Let's get down to self-scoring."

What the hell.

"Do you have nothing else to do? Did you get fired or something?" I clenched my hair.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before they fire me."

"Ah," my voice sounds hollow to my own ears, but I can work with it. Twisting it into the most apathetic tone I can manage, I cock my head. "Some fancy quirk you might have?"

She looks at me, her lips thinning, wobbling. And then bursts out laughing, wheezing and clutching her sides.

"HAHAHA- OW, OW OW ow ouch, son of an oil company executive. I'm sorry," she looks almost sheepish, and I twitch at the tears forming in her eyes. "That was so cute! We'll make a villain of you yet."

"Oh, shut up." Defeated, I take out my carbon copy of the MCQ paper and slap it onto the coffee table. She's already had the answer sheet downloaded on her phone.

Together we go through it, her calling out the option and me marking it with a lead pencil. Unlike the essay, there is negative marking here. Thankfully, I've only gotten a handful of them wrong.

Not bad, I'd say.

"Holy crap young man, you might as well be acing the exam. Just four wrong." She whistles, and reaches over to mess up my already messy hair.

"I also did the essay and well, I was bit too honest for my liking." I voice my doubt.

"Meh, it'll work out. If you get in, I'll get you food. Anything you like."

It's times like this that I realize how much of my life I've spent eating homemade meals. Delicious, and more importantly, frugal. She turns on the TV before I can answer and suck in a breath between my teeth at a small crack in the corner of the screen.

Note to self: do not take out anger on inanimate objects. They don't really care, and cost money. If Haruka notices it, she says nothing to indicate it. I can't really make sense of this office lady.

People are mostly moved by convenience. Is she secretly a licensed clinical psychologist? Does her quirk let her read minds and the social services are worried about me being suicidal? I can't ask what her quirk is, even if she tells me, because then she'll me ask me what my quirk is, and I've a feeling I might throw a plate or three.

"Is it really so hard to decide?" She asks, scrolling through her phone with an index finger in the manner all middle aged people seem to do. "Fried chicken? You like that I hope?"

Well, it does have the protein, but that deep fried breading… "How about grilled?"

"Okay, lean protein meals, got it!" She ends up placing the order via call, when she could have perfectly just done it without human interaction. Weird woman.

"So, are you gonna tell me why you look like you were about to punch someone when the heels you were wearing as a disguise for your underground mission broke and you ended up walking face-first into a fist?"

She stares. "You should write stories."

"Yes, I should put my literary skills to write a hidden romance between Endeavor and All Might." I deadpan. "Maybe throw in Hawks as their illegitimate child who is looked after by Cementoss, because he can keep him grounded despite his wings."

Haruka-neesan reaches over with her healthy arm and smacks me.

Something inside me freezes, flinches.

I know it was in jest. I know she didn't mean it. So why is it that I can't look at her anymore? Why is my throat tight?

"Young man, talk to me. Is everything alright?" She places a gentle hand on my shoulder now.

And it's foolish and stupid and chest feels tight as my mind catches up. I shake my head, and offer a wry grin. "Didn't think you had in you. You hit harder than I expected, that's all."

"Heh, sure." She grins right back, and switches the TV to a soap opera. Its quite famous, but I've never taken the time to see it. The detective is fully invested in it though.
The food arrives, and we dig in, even though I can barely taste it.

"Think I could stay here for the night? I don't wanna move from the couch."

I want to kick her out, and yet I don't. She's got her arm in a sling, there's barely any taxies, the closest train station is not an easy walk away, and I can't drive her - wait a minute.

"How did you get here? I didn't see any car parked outside."

"Oh, a colleague of mine dropped me. I can just contact another to get a ride back. I am pretty popular you know." She winks, and I shudder.

"Don't you have like, a family or something? Your own house?"

"I live alone. My family is pretty much my colleagues." She shrugs, as if she hasn't just short-circuited my mind.

"You've pretty much ensured that you stay over, haven't you?" I narrow my eyes.

"Yep. I'm in the police force, young man. Eliminating possibilities to get my desired outcome is my job."

"Well, mostly cleaning up after heroes is your job."

She snorts, a mixture of amusement and offense. "Well, for a lot of them, yes. But think about it, you're smart. How can we make sure the Hero Association doesn't make us obsolete?"

"Ahh…" I actually sit down. That's a good point. "A concentration of the intelligence and psychic quirks go towards the police force?"

"A non-significant amount, yes."

"There's some sort of overlap between Hero and Police curriculum?"

"Some Hero Academies enable their students to qualify for some credits should they pursue the field of law."
Okay, wow. I didn't know that.

Haruka-neesan chuckles. "Impressive, isn't it?" She lies on her side, mindful of her arm on the generous couch. "Human resilience really is something, positive or negative. A lot of flashier quirks go towards the hero side, true, but the amount of discipline and persistence the police goes through, well. It will come to light, one day."

Oh. Oh. It clicks inside.

"When the brightest of lights is gone," I say, and she looks at me like I'm not someone she knows but an intruder (lady this is my house). "All Might may have steered us through a dark age, but he's a mortal man. When the Symbol of Peace is gone, the foundation to catch the world as we know it falling down, that's the police. Heroes learn to fight against villains; the police learns to fights against quirks. Hey, does the police have a strategy against All Might turning into a Villain?"

Silence sweeps the room. I can hear the wind rattling the window slightly, and TV a mere background buzz.

"You, are one heck of a young man. I'll put in a recommendation for you if you want to join the police force."

Most of my thinking comes from having to live with far more mature experiences in my head. I can't accept undeserved praise, so I just shrug. "I'm going to my room."

"Sure, Imma watch some more TV."

I returned to my room to listen to music as I carried out some exercises. It was a necessity to tire myself now, rather than just building strength to defend myself. If I fell asleep with consciousness to spare, the dreams weren't nice.

Not that I deserved nice.

I don't think I should have trusted her to take care of herself, for when I came back a few hours later, workout finished. I had to drape a proper blanket over her than the jacket she was using. Looking at her arm, I left a glass of water with a coaster covering its lid and some more painkillers out for her.

It was 3 o clock in the morning. I decided to browse some old All Might videos, looking at his form and moves.

You could argue that with the strength to level cities, his 'Ultimate Moves' weren't actually ultimate moves but just normal for him. Or argue that it took a lot control for him to fight normally.

I would say a frightening amount of control.

All Might weighed around 270 kilograms. He could leap over buildings. How much energy did it take for him to jump hundreds of meters into the air. There were numerous videos of it. What struck me the most was how negligible the damage to the surroundings was when he wasn't fighting.

Every action, supposedly, has an equal and opposite reaction.

Given the size of his footprint relative to his mass and the path of his jumps, All Might jumping should have been akin to sledgehammer striking whichever surface he jumped from.

But not a single crack on the roads, or the floors, or the roofs from where he jumped. I flicked open one of my notebooks, sketching out a stick figure and trying to calculate how much force he'd used.

In the Pre-Quirk Era, the pinnacle to human physique was widely believed to be Bruce Lee. I am pretty sure every kid who ever dreamt of being a hero but was born without a quirk knew about him, and plenty of those that were into Martial Arts heroes.

I personally didn't mention him much, because it would all come down to "could he defeat Pro Hero X" eventually. I was guilty of that as well. That's how I had met AllMight's#1Fan after all, both of us arguing first in public posts and then in private messages over who would win. While I had sworn off getting into arguments with strangers over the internet after that, at least the dude had shown decency when discussing a quirkless fighter from centuries ago, and so I tolerated him.

This tolerance led to other exchanges, among which, was this particular one.

AbsentMic: I got into U.A. General education though.

AllMight's#1Fan: Congrats man! I got into the hero course!

AbsentMic: Woah. We might even catch other some time then.

AllMight's#1Fan: You wanna meet up IRL?

I had pondered over it, but given my will to not interact with any human being at all (they had the right to not hang around murderers like me), I declined.

AbsentMic: If you can find me, sure!

AllMight's#1Fan: WHAT?

He really was too nice and innocent.

On the first day of school, I wake up to silence. During the previous week at some point, I had given the detective a key to the house. Apparently she had a few conferences in the ward I reside in, so I thought it convenient that she just stays here rather than pay for a hotel, or keep a constant commute, what with her injuries.

A part of me acknowledges that it's just too lonely in the house.

Another part, that's read at least basic psychology, tries to implore me to seek out a professional, but I've enough to deal with.

There's a bunch of onigiri laid out on the dining table, the plate covered in plastic wrap. Deciding to save them for lunch, I buttered some bread and toasted it with a cup of coffee and a boiled egg.

I was a fairly decent cook, in my own opinion. Building muscle required efficient meal prep, and I was nothing it not studious. Just stocking up on proteins could damage my body, but more importantly, my wallet. Why the heck would idiots just flock to buy packets of chicken breasts but not care about chickpeas or lentils?

Just because something had protein didn't mean the it was the most efficient source of it. There were lots of variables, depending on the body type, what one usually eats, the sleep they get, and whatnot. In fact, lots of diet tips were just plain Bi Esū (BS) Like All Might's attack naming , I hope there's some American superhero going Fukushima Ken! In New York.

Breakfast finished, I put on my uniform and headed out into the light of the street lamps, the sun barely risen. Due to the impressive public transport system, it was just a 40 minute commute for me to travel to Mustafu via train, where U.A. was located.

By the time I reached the school gates, the sun was barely up. The gates were automated and my student ID let me in fairly easily, as well registering the time I arrived. That sure saved on setting up a disciplinary committee.

Another man arrived before me, and I nearly startled at his emaciated appearance. Holy hell, he looked like he ate out of a tube, yet despite his slouched posture, I could tell. His teeth were hale and healthy, and skin was taught in a way that belied toughness. He must have been a body builder of some kind.

"Good morning, sir." I bowed, and he almost startled.

"Good morning, my boy. You're a new admission?"

"Yes, in general education." I said, feeling nervous. It was the first day of a new school, an educational institution unlike anything I could have imagine, including the memories of both lives.

"Oh, a valiant pursuit." He spoke like a hero, his voice soft yet clear. "Is that where you want to be?"

I'm a quirkless murderer in an academy primarily based for producing heroes, or upstanding individuals for the society. Where I want to be is someplace I don't deserve to be.

"I…" I really wanted to talk to Haruka-nee. She would have some annoying words for me, but at least it would knock out this anxiety within me. I was fairly sure she knew I was quirkless as well.

I stopped walking, and the blond teacher paused with me. "My boy?"

"I'm quirkless, so I just applied for general education. Frankly, I'm here simply to get a good job later on." A hand, larger than I had imagined, rested on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Everyone has to eat, my boy. There is no shame in wanting to live a comfortable life." He said, and I looked up at him, just noticing how tall he was despite slouching. "I will not say that being quirkless doesn't matter, because it's an undeniable reality for. But I can hope to understand."

The strength of his words struck something within me. His eyes were intense, brooking no argument or refusal. He acknowledged my pain, and I in turn had to acknowledge his attempt to understand it, even if he had not lived my life.

"Whatever you wish to be, you can find it here. U.A. has produced individuals that went on to be fine heroes, yes, but also police officers, radio stars, actors, authors, engineers, teachers, researchers and even ramen chefs. So go forth," he removed his hand and made it a fist. "This is your academia, as much as anyone else's. You have earned the right to be here."

What could I say to that rousing speech, that quelled the orchestra of butterflies in my stomach with its own melody?

"Thank you," I bowed, throat tight. "Um… where can I find you, sensei?"

"Oh!" He looked thunderstruck, as if he had not thought things true. "W-Well, I'm barely here most of the time, but feel free to ask the other teachers, and if I can, I shall absolutely make time for you."

"Who should I ask for?"

"Toshinori."

"Right. Thank you once again, Toshrinori-sensei. I really needed to hear your words."

Toshinori Yagi, hero name, All Might. He had arrived earlier than he possibly thought he needed to be, to catch the sights of his old school in his regular form.

It also helped that he wouldn't just stumble upon a lot of crime scenes so damn early in the morning, and save his precious three hours should any situation arise.

A student still manages to beat him. He tries to trail behind, his gait silent and steady, but the boy still notices him and bows in greeting before he can change form.

He decides what the hell, he could spare a chat. The boy looks fairly athletic, wavy black hair cascading over hollow brown eyes. The dark circles worry him, and he's unsure if its a side-effect of whatever quirk this youngster might have, or if he's been unable to sleep for days.

"I'm quirkless, so I just applied for general education. Frankly, I'm here simply to get a good job later on."

Just what are the odds, he thinks.

Toshinori is unable to help himself, with his actions or his words, and the hero within him is reaching out before he can control himself.

He ends up giving out his name, but the hope he can now see emanate from the young boy walking towards the school building makes it worth it. He wonders if fate will bring Midoriya and-

"I forgot to ask his name." All Might sighs, what a classic blunder.

I was in Class 1-D.

There were 20 students per class, for a total intake of 240 first years spread across Hero, Gen. Ed., Support, and Management courses.

The timetable I had received stated a daily mini Homeroom period from 8:25 to 8:35. Regular classes began from 8:40 onwards in 50 minute slots, a 10 minute break between each one. In this way, four periods were to be covered till 12:30, when we would get our lunch break, and resume at 1:20 for two more periods, before classes ended at 3:10.

Afterwards, there were a host of clubs and other things to get into, but students from the Hero Course would have designated activities.

The opening ceremony, I could tell many of my peers could do without. I was far too fascinated about the talking mouse/bear/hamster and its (his?) lustrous coat of keratin supplemented fur to care about the long windedness of the ceremony. The representative of first years was absent, drawing attention to the fact that the entirety of Class 1-A plus their homeroom teacher were absent.

Was it Toshinori-sensei? I couldn't find him in the lineup of Pro Heroes that comprised of the U.A. teaching staff. All Might was present, smiling all the time though.

"Well," Nezu had chuckled. "You will find we take a much more laissez-faire approach to teaching at U.A. There are of course some standard guidelines, but the teachers are allowed to be creative, and authoritative."

In lieu of a school anthem was the chant of PLUS ULTRA! And off we went back to our classes. I took my seat in the front of the classroom, trying to keep my breakfast down as my classmates piled into the room. The first period was homeroom, and we would be introduced to the Pro Hero under whose care we would be for the rest of the year.

"Hey, little listeners!" Present Mic popped his head to cheers and jubilation. "Are you ready to learn?" His English was flawless, I would give him that. In fact, he spoke without a hint of his Japanese accent.

"You there, you've noticed something, haven't you?" Aw crud, he made his way towards me. "Have you had a realization?"

Now is probably good time to divulge that I did follow Present Mic's radio broadcasts. I had been following him since he was but a streamer on the internet, and just to spite him, I had joined his channel via the name AbsentMic. He took it in good stride, enough that I became a regular listener as he discussed making music, his career as a Pro Hero, eventually switching over to the days events as the audience asked him his take on several issues.

In short, I was kind of a fan.

When I could control the volume of his voice in my headphones.

"Hey hey, you're dozing off. Are you a fan, dazzled by your hero?" He snapped his finger, pointing finger guns towards me as he too his place behind the rostrum. "Don't you worry, I don't mind stuff like that!"

"Um," I swallowed, breathed, and righted my posture. "Your English is very clear. You play up an accent when you're on the radio."

Silence, before his mouth split in an ear-to-ear grin. "Ooooooh! You, I like you! Very observant from the start. Pretty-boy here is right. I teach English at U.A., outside of my homeroom duties. And as you'll learn, if you know how to do something right, you can do it wrong more convincingly! Now!" He clapped his hands before spreading his arms, hand near his face, the other pointing towards the classroom. "Introductions! Are! You! Ready?!"

He was yelling, but his volume was under control. I found it more palatable now. Given his quirk, it was more due to his situational awareness and skill than luck. As the students got up and introduced themselves, I fidgeted in my seat.

Name, which school they had come from, and whatnot. All information was optional, and most of the students were focusing on why they were in U.A.
Sweat prickled my back, and I fisted my trousers in clammy hands. The sound of my ear drums beating pushed against my brain, and I began to hear the distant roar of a stream.

It was my turn. I stood up slowly, carefully.

"I want to to be able to get eight hours sleep every night. Or six. That's it." And I sat back down again.

Present Mic laughed. "Hey hey! that's a good one! I can't remember the last time I slept for eight hours! Right, next!"

In my rush to come up with a proper embellishment, I had forgotten to state my name. What the heck. I tried to focus then, on other people's introductions and not the weird looks I was getting.

Present Mic livened up the atmosphere plenty, and everyone was in high spirits when he left us in the ten minute interlude before the next class.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." I looked up and found myself staring at the bluest eyes I had ever seen. The girl sitting next to me sat with her legs crossed, the heel of her palm digging into her chin. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun to the side, and I could observe the light make up she had on. "You have an intense gaze, do you know? I'm Mizunashi Erika."

"Ah, nice to meet you." I said, hand over my chest, slight bow.

She twisted her lips. "Don't wanna give your name, mystery boiya? Fine by me. So why'd you come to U.A.? Even outside of heroics, the course load is pretty heavy."

I remembered the words from morning, and took a calming breath. "I could get in, so I got in. U.A. has good prospects for Higher Education as well."

"Oh, you're one of those types." She leaned back. "You don't wanna be a hero, right?"

Well. That was a tough question.
"I didn't apply for the Hero Course," I said, not technically lying.

"Doesn't answer my question, but fine, keep your secrets." She smirked. "So what's your quirk? I'll go first; mine is Water Banishment. I can basically vanish the water from a glass of water."

The indignant offense at being asked about a quirk was quickly washed away by the curiosity of how her quirk worked.

"Wait, water? Can you vanish it from water tanks? Rivers? Food? Living organisms? Salads?"

"Okay, Quirk Otaku, slow down. You're mentioning some fascinating uses, but I can only banish about 330ml of water per day." Mizunashi-san said. "Sounds good on the surface, but didn't help me do jack in the Hero Entrance exam."

"Ah, sorry about that barrage." Damn it, I needed better control of my mouth! "What happened in those exams, if I may ask?" I turned towards her in my seat, intent on listening.

"Well, we had to disable robots, and they had designated points. There was a titanic zero-pointer that was just meant to increase our difficulty, but it created opportunities for rescues. We weren't informed about that part at all, it was an exam within an exam; how many of us would ditch the exam scores and help other participants, all said and done." She shrugged. "They really had us figured out, but it's kinda true no? Like in my middle school the competition was truly mean. Bitches wouldn't even share their own notes, and try to ruin the other students' notebooks to stay ahead."

"Oh, I see." She was the quite the talker. "So who got the highest rescue points?"

"Oh! See this is where it gets interesting." She took out her phone, scrolling through something. "The person who got the highest rescue points also has the lowest combat points. Zero, in fact."

She held out her phone, showing my the merit list for the hero program.

Midoriya Izuku. 0 Combat Points, 60 Rescue Points.

I wonder what quirk he had, and then internally winced. Here I was, hiding my own status, and wondering what quirks others had. What a pathetic sight.

But the statistic was weirdly impressive.

"I see. Thank you." I nodded to Erika, who huffed.

"You're not much of a talker are you, Sleepy Boy?" I must have made some sort of face, because she gestured towards my eyes. "You look like you hardly get any sleep, so I admire your whole eight hours thing. Not gonna pry into it, but we're seat mates now. If you're nice, I'm nice. If you try to mess me with me, well…" she smiled bright, which contrasted sharply with her act of drawing her thumb across her neck. "Understand?"

I nodded, a bit impressed. "Feel free to ask for my notes instead."

By the end of the day, through the awe of being taught regular subjects by Pro Heroes, I had managed to dodge the question of what my quirk was. No one bothered with my name, since Erika's coined nickname 'Sleepy Boy' had caught on, much to my chagrin.

I found myself making my way to the staffroom, and knocking.

A disheveled looking man opened the door, dressed in all black with a dull grey scarf on his shoulders. He looked the kind of person who had zero patience for lathering up his face for a proper shave and got by using only a trimmer.

I could barely place who he was, but I was sure that I had heard of him. He was good in hand to hand combat. Wait, he wasn't at the morning assembly. Could he be the homeroom teacher for Class 1-A? It was a possibility, he looked more fit to teach than Toshinori-sensei.

"Good afternoon, sensei." I bowed.

"Yes, student?" He acknowledged in a tone far more serious than I would have pegged him for.

"I'm looking for Toshinori-sensei… whenever has time?" I asked, wondering if a second meeting was too soon.

The man in all black blinked. "Ah, he's not in at the moment, but I'll pass along the message at the earliest convenience. Was there something specific you needed him for?"

"Just to talk. And, uh, I wanted to thank him as well."

The man nodded in acknowledgement, and I walked away to explore U.A.

The overall area of the school was larger than some universities, but shared among them.

Look at it this way; heroes needed to prepare for all sorts of scenarios. So did other professionals. With villainy not as rampant as the decade prior but still a noticeable part of day-to-day life occurrences, the government of Japan needed to be able build, rebuild, and demolish structures, replenish wildlife and conserve the environment, learn ways to synthesize organic and inorganic compounds to deal with the rapidly changing human biology in the medical sector, and whatnot.

Given that, U.A. partnered with several companies and universities for the development of mock cities in which all kinds of research and experimentation would be going on. U.A.'s Support courses were heavy on reusing and recycling, and the presence of Cementoss was just an industrial level cheat code.

The joint ownership of training grounds meant that the heroes in training would have days and time slots reserved for them, but Hero Agencies could also rent them.

Legend had it that a prospectus for U.A. was released annually and sent to the government regarding how they managed their finances.

I walked into the generous library available on the campus, slightly awed at its size. All the doors at U.A. were obscenely huge, ready to grant entrance to anyone, considerate of people with size altering quirks (metamorphic if you wanna be really fancy).

Why did I stay behind at the library? Well. Due to All Might teaching at U.A., there was a media circus going on at the front gates. I had just arrived at such an ungodly hour that I had escaped unscathed.

My fingers trailed the volumes of inorganic chemistry titles, looking for something to satisfy my curiosity on fabrics. An up and coming pro hero Mount Lady (or as the internet boards abhorrently referred as "Mount me, Lady!") had a costume that was more a marvel than her quirk. Just what was it made of?

The tomes of the dense, dreadful study of matter were the last place I expected for a Boy-Meets-Girl event, but here we were. My fingers, trailing across the hardcover spines touched another slender pair, and I jerked back.

Lustrous black hair, styled in a high spiky pony tail. A healthy complexion, that spoke not just of the use of high quality products, but a high quality diet as well. The stitch of her blazer was standard, but the white shirt underneath was sewn a bit differently. This girl was loaded.

"I'm sorry, did you want this volume perhaps?" She was already holding two books in her other arm. I noticed that her nails were manicured as well. Did she have servants as well?

"I was simply browsing. The collection here is quite good." I whispered back. While a lot of knowledge was public (in no small part thanks to SciHub), U.A. had publications of its alumni as well, with some handwritten footnotes in between. I was not immune to the feeling of prestige they carried, and the general awe at being part of a legacy.

"I know, some of these volumes are decades old, and the only ones in print. My study at home can't even compare. As expected of U.A.," she smiled, eyes sparkling. I was focused on something else entirely.

My study at home.

My STUDY at HOME.

Okay, this was an Ojou-sama.

"Oh, please don't mind my manners. I'm Yaoyoruzu Momo. Who might you be?"

Okay, either she's pretending to be rich or she's rich enough to escape the public eye. Super Rich.

"Nice to meet you, I'm-"

SSHHHHH!

Perhaps we had been getting a bit too excited. A decibel meter bot shushed us, wagging a gloved finger at us. Oh, so this is how they decided to keep things quiet.

Suitably abashed, I mouthed a 'Sorry' and quickly moved ahead, skipping over the fiction section. A cool thing about U.A. was that, while propriety knowledge was kept printed in physical copies, most of it was digitized. As such, many students availed the option of taking up an electronic ink reader and logging into it with their student ID, to which their reading list, notes, and bookmarks would be synced.

It was a very efficient system. I picked up a sleek 9 inch tablet and browsed the catalogue for Sherlock Holmes, an antiquate novel which still lived on as THE detective archetype, but wasn't very popular nowadays. But Holmes was quirkless, as was I, and it was fun, albeit unrealistic read.

Come evening the media fanfare died down, especially with the departure of students on from alternate gates. I walked through the surrounding forest of the academy, which was considered the property of U.A. According the maps, it led out to a cafe and a utility store. I also had a second opinion from Hound Dog sensei, who stumbled upon me in the forest during his patrol when all I was doing was trying to find a place to enjoy my onigiri for lunch.

I exited the trees without another uniform in sight, and took the first train back to Tokyo. Reaching back, I found the lights on, and Detective Haruka occupying the coffee table in the lounge, wearing glasses to my surprise, engrossed in paperwork.

I swallowed dryly, before speaking the words I hadn't in a long while. "I'm home."

She looked up, her arm no longer in a sling, and waved. "Welcome back young man. How was school?"

I blinked, my eyes stinging. "It was okay… I got us food."

"Oooh, whatcha got there?"

I held up a parcel of Lunch Rush's exquisite Yakisoba. "Yakisoba. School cafe rates are much cheaper than the market."

Two portions of it. I had bought it with the hope of accomplishing dinner and breakfast tomorrow, but it was now I realized that, I had truly bought two because of a wish to share them with someone.

Someone like Haruka-neesan.

"Alright little listeners! Are you ready for today? Today we're choosing a class rep!"

What a normal activity.

So why was everyone so up in arms about it?

"Now, now," Present Mic held up his hands. "Imma give you all some time to talk it out, discuss amongst yourselves, who you think should be the Class Rep, okay? Whoever comes second shall be the assistant. Now, you have ten minutes! Go!" And he leapt to close the door as voices rose.

The answer was simple. You get to interact with your teachers much more than the average student. The teachers in questions are Pro Heroes, of which everyone is ostensibly a fan, of one or another. Had Toshinori-sensei been a teacher for one of my subjects, I might have considered being the CR as well.

Mizunashi Erika's head swiveled to me.

"You have my vote. Yay." I deadpanned. She nodded, before going over to another bunch of people. I laid my head down and closed my eyes. Something dropped onto my desk after a minute and I peeked one eye open, only to find myself staring at the orange-tinted lenses of Present Mic, peering over the edge of the table.

I jerked back up.

"Sleepy boy, you don't wanna be the class rep? I thought you would."

I mussed my hair, trying to flatten the voluminous waves. "Um, why?"

"Why?" He cocked his head, very quiet. "You're the top student in terms of academics you know. Managing wrong answers in single digits when the Principal designs the test is a miracle!" He whisper shouted, wiggling his fingers on both hands.

This was news to me.

"Oh, you didn't know? Did you even watch your recording? We had All Might do a special for you." Present Mic sighed.

"No."

I hadn't touched the holographic mini-projector that was sent, I just skimmed the letter to find that I had passed, and left it at that. I wasn't big on rankings, really. Sure, there was satisfaction in stealing the top spot that others were looking to shine their applications with, only because of the persistent jeering that I couldn't get into their field without such and such type of quirk, but it got old rather fast.

"All right, you've been upgraded from Sleepy Boy to Mystery Boy!" And with that he walked off, taking rounds across the class to ensure it never got noisy enough to disrupt people outside of it.
"Right!" Present Mic clapped and then dabbed. "Since so many of you want to run, creme de la creme of your schools, let's settle it through secret balloting, OK?!" He announced, and then continued in a more normal volume. "That's what we end up doing every year dammit."

"How about a wheel of fortune?" I muttered, too low to have been heard.

Or so I thought.

"Now that's a great idea! Innovation!" Present Mic threw his head back. "All right! If we have a tie and both winners want to get into the hero course, let's do that!"

There was a mixed response and I ducked my head beneath my hands.

"Hey hey, you never know when you end up against lady luck, especially if you want to be heroes. By the way, I totally have the leeway to do this. You're an U.A. after all." Present Mic titled his shades down, an eyebrow quirked. (Get it? Quirked.) "Now, let's vote!"

It must have been a routine practice, because there were ballots and a box prepared inside the rostrum. The orange balloting box was placed no the teacher's table, and voting papers were distributed quickly. My vote was for Erika simply because she sat at my

Please don't let there be a tie.

"Alright, we don't have a tie!" Everyone perked up at this. "We have several ties!"

Four people had gotten three votes each. And in less than five minutes, Present Mic had a spinning wheel of fortune up, divided into four quadrants of blue, yellow, red and green.

Mizunashi Erika. Monogami Gai. Kobayashi Tenko. Tennousu Asuka.

Hmmm. Is it just me or do people's names and their quirks weirdly match?

"Now then, who should be the one to spin the wheel?"
Oi oi, it's your class. You spin the wheel!

"You spin the wheel!" Present Mic pointed to me. "Come on up, Mystery Boy."

I got up under nineteen stares, and walked up to wheel, flicking the cardboard without any preamble before turning around and looking down at my feet.

"And the CR is…" Present Mic was in full commentary mode. "Tennousu Asuka!"

Polite applause.

"Spin it again, we gotta pick the assistant CR too."

I flicked the wheel once more, just wanting this spectacle to be over.

"Mizunashi Erika! Now that that's settled, onto your classes!" I inhaled deeply. No one objected to the results, and classes proceeded as usual, until lunch.

That was when the chaos began. Having forgone lunch in the cafeteria again, I was exploring the roof. Unlike the conventional school where access to the roof was forbidden, it was allowed in U.A., though not really known by first year students at least.

Another reason the roof was avoided was, well… it was a dating hotspot. No one really ventured here alone, like me. Most of the people that came here were third years anyways, since the classes below were too focused on their studies.

The rooftop gave me a good vantage of the moment chaos broke loose of course. Once moment, the solid gate of the school was there. The next, it appeared to be to sliding up- no. I quickly took out my phone and started recording, hoping to get a shot of the incident in 4K.

The reporters stumbled in, raising the alarm. I could only watch my recording, puzzled at why would the gate just open.

"I heard the media broke onto your campus." Haruka-neesan commented.

"What are you doing breaking into this residence?" I asked.

"This isn't breaking and entering, you gave me a key."

"Well, yeah." But you took that as an invite to just start living here. I didn't want her to go, but it was kind of annoying how she was constantly there. "Anyway, I got this." I handed her my phone, playing the clip I had recorded.

Her eyes sharpened, the light air around her turning heavy. And the she smiled, sharp, knifelike. Green eyes bore into mine. "Is this all?"

"Yeah. Is it of any use to you?"

"Any use? Heck yeah it is!" She patted my head, her hand lingering there when I didn't flinch. I hadn't in a long time, especially with her. "Good work young man. This is an angle and zoom that sheds more light."

"You know that implies you're on this case, right?" I mused.

She snorted. "I got promoted. There isn't a case I'm not on now."

My mouth dropped. "Wait, you got promoted?!"

"What, you thought I broke my arm for fun?" She raised any eyebrow.

"No! I mean, you don't speak about your job." I raised my hands. "Not that I ask, but this kind of thing should be celebrated right?"

"Well, I got a party thrown, so- oh." She smiled, touching the side of my face. "How about the two of us celebrate as well then? Let's make something at home."

I tried to ignore the lump in my throat at the mention of the word 'home'. "Yeah, let's make cookies."

"Baking! Now that's one thing I can get behind."

2AM, sure that her charge was doing his late night workout, Haruka rang her office.

"What up, Kudo-taichou?"

"You saw the video I sent?"

"Yep! I'm putting together a presentation for tomorrow." Inspector Shiratori Jun sounded like he had one of his infernal chocolate lollipops in his mouth. "Looks we finally have a lead; one we can follow again because all your stocked leave and sick days have been used up."

Haruka sighed. "I don't regret a single damn thing."

"I know you don't. You looked ready to throw your fist in anyone's face for that boy. Does he know you can't catch a cold until the end of the year?"

"No," she smiled wryly. "He thinks the government has too much personnel on hand if someone like me can be assigned babysitting duties."

"Sounds like you're quoting him. Poor soul, the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better."

Haruka let out a small hmm. "Thanks to him, we can have the edges of the puzzle."

"Speaking of puzzles, we didn't find a suicide note yet? All the other pieces are there, but the note… what if the kid has it?"

Haruka sighed. "His mind plummets into depression at any mention, Shiratori-kun. He's getting better, but slowly. It's just…" she raked a hand through her hair. "This kid has so much potential, but he can't see beyond being quirkless." Her bare feet paced the wooden floor. "I wish we could take him to see a mental health professional, but that stage hasn't arrived yet. We just gotta wait."

"I see. You feel a lot, Kudo-taichou." Shiratori's voice was pensive. "And I don't mean your quirk. We got no idea how this investigation will go, considering our analysis of the perpetrators, so if anything happens to you… I guess I'll arrange something for the kid."
Haruka stopped, tears prickling her eyes. "I want to say that I have no intention of letting the worst come to pass but… thank you. You're the third person to offer that, you know."

"Is that so?" He was mumbling, the way he often did when embarrassed, teeth clenched around the plastic tube of his lollipops. "Well, we owe it to you. There's not a single person who doesn't owe you in our unit. You never let us down Kudo-taichou."

"Ahhhh, come off it. I'm nervous enough heading it in the first place."

"Kudo Haruka, Chief Inspector. Our glory days have arrived indeed."
"Shut up! Send me the presentation when it's drafted, I'll see you tomorrow."

Sooo… am I being too vague? I've left all the clues in. Bwa ha ha.