When Izuku and Himiko had arrived home, half past two in the morning and covered in as many bandages as they could buy at the nearest 7/11, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to find his mom a panicked and sputtering mess. Consciously, Izuku understood why.
But for some reason, his brain was simply unable to process what was unfolding around him, the way Inko scattered to inspect his every little, and not so little, wound, her demands for answers that only slightly masked her terror with anger, even the waterfall of words about her calling everyone from the hospitals to the police to Mitsuki. Himiko seemed to give some excuse about training or maybe getting into a fight, Izuku couldn't quite understand it, though from the look in his mom's eye's he doubted she completely believed it. But… She didn't put up a fight when Himiko began to guide Izuku back to his room.
Himiko didn't bother to turn on the lights as she led him to his bed. Her lithe, firm hand was a crutch for his shaky legs, and she tenderly helped him lie down. Not a word was spoken. None were needed. His tired eyes struggled to focus as she sat on the edge of his bed, and gently nibbled his ear. But then she stood up, and took a step back, retracing her steps out of his room.
His mechanical, computer-like mind had gorged itself on terabytes of data about heroes, but tonight? What happened tonight had made his memory banks overflow, and his processor choke on the data. The facts of what happened may have lingered in his head, but they were pieces of a dozen different puzzles that his mind was too sleep deprived to even start putting together.
The last thing he saw before his consciousness gave in to the dark night was her eyes.
Those toxic, sunflower eyes, the color of plague. Oh, how they shined with pride.
Something in his soul shuddered at that.
That night, none of it seemed to sink in. No dreams interrupted his silent sleep. Nothing but the void of unconsciousness.
)ooOoo(
In Tokyo, the sky was clear, with only a few stray clouds wandering freely. The sakura had long since blossomed, but some trees still carried their late bloomers, deep green leaves and earthy black bark interspersed with fading patches of pink. The birds had returned, the air was pleasantly warm day and night, and the rains were beginning to peter out.
Spring was ending, another season passing.
And yet, life continued on, unaffected.
The Augur sighed, slowly nursing his coffee as he watched a flock of pigeons glide past. A folded newspaper sat on his leg, and a bundle of files laid beside him.
Time seemed to be fading for him. You could only sit on the same bench, in the same park, watching the same skyline for so long before it all began to run together. There were unique things he had seen, of course; a new building being built, particularly interesting people passing, new trees being planted and old ones disappearing. But they no longer held a place in time, merely existing in his memory.
He was tired.
Glancing at his wrist, he checked his watch. He should've left for work ten minutes ago. But he didn't worry. He simply wanted to relax this morning. Taking another deep sip of his coffee, he stood up and casually began down the white pavement path.
The Augur liked this park. It was a small thing, a dozen or so cherry trees scattered about, and a small playground. There was absolutely nothing special about it, to such a degree that he hadn't learned the park's name in the twenty years he'd been coming. But it still made him smile.
Tsuruko had loved coming here as a child. It was close to the Augur's old apartment, so he would often take her here. She had actually learned how to bike over near the playscape. He chuckled at the memory, his characteristic cynicism melting away to reveal a sort of well-aged fondness, akin to a bottle of sweet wine.
And now she was a grown woman, a coworker, and a talented detective in her own right.
His smile was bittersweet, a bluebird watching his child soar even as his own feathers abandoned him.
It wasn't a very long car ride. Traffic was annoying as it was every monday, but he had long since learned to tune it out. His coffee was just the right temperature, and he had gotten enough sleep for the first time in what seemed like years. Driving to work was nearly muscle memory, and so was navigating the narrow parking deck. A brisk walk down another block, and he reached his building.
Bland gray carpets and a white panel ceiling. A soft thrum of unmaiteninced air vents. The familiar smell of dust, paper and cheap coffee. The secretary greeted him, and he nodded back, raising his cup in greeting. A short elevator ride up a few floors, and the doors opened to reveal a maze of cubicles. Down a few rows, turn right, and finally, he plopped down in his old, cracked pleather seat.
Another day, another case to stress over.
He pulled out the most recent case file, flipping through a manilla folder filled with post-it notes and blue pen marks. He raised an eyebrow, and scowled. It had been updated since yesterday. It seemed that, every time his team seemed to come to the bottom of a case, something new crawled up from the depths. A swear escaped his lips.
Let's see…
The arm's smuggling ring seemed to have upped its game. Unfortunately. Informants and enforcement on the ground have found people that got their hands on illegal hero-level equipment, and apparently on the cheap. Police interrogations of arrested dealers have revealed that at least some of the equipment was manufactured in the Republic of Korea and the Yue Confederation, but the exact means it was transported by is still unknown. However a common name referenced to is "the League." The nature of the aforementioned league is unknown; investigators are directed to contact the National Anti-Terrorist Force for further information.
"Junichi!" The Augur looked to his left, and a man several cubicles over stood up, leaning on the wall.
"Yeah?" Junichi shouted back. "What's up?"
"Do you know who 'the League' is, from these recent reports?"
The man shrugged. "We got nothing."
The Augur grunted and looked back at the papers. Okay then. It seemed the National Anti-Terrorist force had nothing.
The list cited lead after lead, log after log, but a quick glance showed that there was little new information aside from that in the synopsis. The Augur shook his head, suddenly feeling much more tired.
"Aug! Aug!"
He looked up to see Tsuruko speed walking towards him, as fast as politely possible in the office. "Good morning to you too. Anything new on the kidnapping ring?"
"We found her! Tsuruko's voice was a repressed shout, excited and anxiety-ridden.
Looking back through his files, the Augur brought his coffee to his lips. "There's a lot of 'hers,' you're going to have to be more specific."
"The slasher! We found her!"
The Augur nearly spit out his coffee.
Just about dropping his cup on his desk, he scrambled to his feet. "Where? Show me."
The two rushed to Tsuruko's desk, and she spoke quickly, clicking through various files. "Apparently she's been lying low in Musutafu for the past year; there have been no reported murders that fit her behaviors, so we have to either assume that her murders have been falling under missing person cases, or that she stopped entirely. I presume the first is far more likely, but the cessation of her movement is concerning, especially after I saw this."
The Augur leaned over her shoulder, watching her navigate the various files. "Why?"
"She has a friend." Tsuruko bit her lip, and opened a video file. "A dangerous one."
The camera flicked on, and audio joined it soon after. A white, pixelated mark in the top left read "Warp Bodycam - 20:37," and the color video seemed to appear from above a crowd, quickly dropping to join it. "Stop where you are, villain!"
For the first few minutes, the film proceeded much like a standard hero arrest, too dramatic for the Augur's taste but nevertheless effective. He was beginning to wonder what was important about the video, but suddenly, the hero screamed, being thrown to the concrete.
There was struggle, the sound of the woman's electric batons beating someone, but it wasn't until she teleported that the investigators got a clear view of the new individual.
A kid. That was the first thought that came to the Augur's mind. Just a kid.
But not an innocent looking one.
A black tracksuit. A tight mask, framed by bloodstained golden teeth. A crazed look in his bloodshot eyes, flicking back and forth in an unnatural way. A bulge on his right thigh, indicating poorly hidden weapons.
He leaned in, looking at the mask. The 'teeth' seemed to jut out, with a very slight curve to them. The bottom set seemed to lock to the kid's jaw, while the top was set in place, leaving a large enough space between the two sets to tear a chunk of meat out of a person. And speaking of tearing, that seemed exactly their purpose; the backside of the fangs were lined with row after row of tiny, hook-like spurs, much like velcro but for a person's skin. The Augur would've sworn he had seen similar models before, but he couldn't remember where.
From the ensuing fight, the kid seemed trained, but inexperienced, making mistakes so blatant even a non-hero like the Augur could tell. A misstep here, a flinch there. But as it continued, the fighting became more brutal, raw and feral, not two people fighting but the hero attempting to fend off a wild beast. Biting, stabbing, punching and throwing. The kid didn't even seem to notice his own blood being spilled across his face. He was not one to be ignored.
Not one to ignore, but not one that Augur was supposed to be investigating.
"How does this relate to the slasher case?" He glanced over towards Tsuruko, internally rolling his eyes at the name. It was still ridiculous, but he had long since given up on using the case number around his coworkers. It wasn't like they were using it.
"This. This is why." She scrubbed through the video, to a point where the camera was shaking back and forth. The hero was screaming, and the kid was in front of her, scrambling to get up from the ground. The image shuttered, and was suddenly shoved to the ground, catching sight of what seemed like a second, identical version of the first attacker. The two of them ran down a nearby alley, one dragging a large mutant-variant villain. But in the last few frames, they saw something.
The second attacker seemed to… melt.
Augur scowled. "Slow it down to frame-by-frame, and zoom in."
Tsuruko gave a smirk. "Of course, your highness."
The Augur snorted. "Thank you."
Her attitude disappeared as soon as it arrived, and she quickly refocused the camera. It was a bit grainy, but not so much they couldn't understand what they were seeing.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The frames passed by and Augur almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. As the second attacker ran, flecks and patches of their skin seemed to slip off, chunks of grayish goo splattering on the pavement. The jumpsuit simply ceased to be, replaced by a dark schoolgirl uniform, and the bush of moldy green hair revealed tangled knots of blond locks, two distinct pinned-up balls of hair.
But there, mere frames before the figure passed into the alley, she had looked back. For anyone watching at normal speed, it would've been a mere glimpse, not nearly enough to recognize them. Tsuruko held up the photo from the case file. "Look at this."
Plucking the picture from her hands, the Augur compared the picture to the frame. There wasn't any doubt. That was Toga Himiko, the Osaka Slasher. A Toga Himiko whose face was twisted by hate.
He shivered.
"It's brand new. The Musutafu local started running it this morning, I heard it on the police signal. They were running it as a search for a kid with a duplication quirk who got his hands on hero equipment," Tsuruko swivelled in her seat, turning to face the Augur. "so I thought it might be connected to the arms smuggling case. Instead, I found this."
Augur tapped his foot, focusing intently on the pen he had begun fiddling with. "This'll be a sensitive case."
"Oh yeah? What told you that?" Tsuruko laughed, the cynical sort she must have inherited from her adoptive father. "The fact that we have two extremely dangerous, mentally unstable children who just mutilated a pro-hero?"
"No." He chewed on the pin, staring into empty air.
"Huh?"
"Look." He reached out, rolling back the video to when the woman just began screaming. "Look at the kid's expression."
She glanced at it, but then back at the Augur, uncertain. "... There's not much to see, he has a mask on."
The Augur's eyes were cold, looking at the screen rather than his partner. He pointed with his pen, directly at the kid's face. "His eyes say it all. They're the eyes of someone who just realized that they've messed up."
"He's new to this. Uncertain. Twitchy." She suddenly caught on, leaning back and curling a strand of dark hair around her finger. "A flight risk."
"Exactly." The Augur nodded, scratching at his graying stubble. "Therefore, we have to make sure he doesn't panic and run. And if he runs..."
"Toga Himiko will too. Now how, exactly, are we going to do that?" Standing up, Tsuruko gave him a critical look and straightened her suit. She seemed to have a smile hidden underneath her flat expression, as if she knew the answer.
"Personally." The Augur sipped his coffee, turning to go. "Contact the Musutafu police, and get that story off the news as fast as possible. Confiscate all the gathered evidence, and organize an interview with the local hero. And for the love of all things holy, make sure no other heroes get involved. We need to find these people with a sense of tact, not tear the city in two."
"'Course." She picked up her phone, beginning to dial. "If you've taught me anything, it's that heros can't even hold an egg without breaking it."
The Augur chuckled. "Never a truer set of words."
It had been a year. Soon, soon, they would catch her.
And hopefully, she wouldn't kill anyone in the process.
)ooOoo(
Warmth.
Warmth that tickled his cheeks, the faint songs of lazy birds, soft conversation from through his door.
Izuku's eyes snapped open.
It's morning!
The exam!
Throwing the covers off, Izuku launched himself from his bed, but the pistons in his legs sputtered. "Cra-!"
His face smacked against the wood boards of the apartment floor, but he hardly gave himself the time to recognize it before scrambling to his feet and kicking into high gear.
Clothes! He practically jumped into the pair of athletic pants, and an indego athletic shirt simply seemed to appear on him at some point, he couldn't say when. Socks, shoes, gloves? Where were his gloves? Nevermind, he didn't need them anyways!
The door opened, slowly and with an anxious creak, and his mad dash stumbled to a stop.
"Izuku," Inko stood there, a strange mix of soft regret and firm determination in her green eyes. "We need to talk." She picked her way through his still-messy room to his bed, where she sat down, and patted the spot beside her.
It was then that everything about yesterday returned to his mind, like a sledgehammer to the back of the head. The black market, the mask, the thief, the-
The hero.
Oh no.
While his feet guided him to sit next to Inko, his mind was anywhere but, setting about spinning, trying to understand everything and trying even harder to understand how absolutely screwed he was. He attacked a hero of the law, and not only that, but in plain sight, surrounded by dozens of people, and leaving her mortally injured. Oh god, what if he had killed her?! Did he kill Warp?! The fight was foggy but he wouldn't doubt that he trimmed far more than a pound of flesh from her side. What she was doing was wrong, but if he killed her… and if the police caught him...
His chest was so tense that his heart struggled to beat.
"Izuku?"
He snapped back to the moment, and saw the worry in his mom's small scowl.
"Y-yeah?" He sputtered out an answer. Did she know? What was this about? She- She must've purposefully let him sleep in! Which could only mean-
"I'm not letting you go to the entrance exam."
"What!?" Shock and horror entered his eyes. "How could you-!"
"Look at yourself!" Inko cut him off, panic in her voice. There was a desperation in her eyes that he had never seen before, and any semblance of calm that she had when she had walked in melted away like paint in a fire. "Izuku, you stumbled inlast night bleeding and bruised from every part of your body! Himiko said some bullshit about a run in with some thugs, but if I'm honest, I don't care what it was! This has gone too far!"
Izuku was unable to respond for a moment. His mom never swore. Last night had really shook her, and part of him wanted to give into her demands. She was still his mom. But…
He scowled, looking at the callouses he had built on his hand over the past year, then looked at Inko. "Mom, I can't give up now! I've worked so hard!"
"And look what it's gotten you!" She gestured at his injuries. "There's hardly been a day you didn't come home with a new bruise or scrape!"
"I don't care about that! Any job where I work with my hands will get me scraped up!"
"But not every job has people trying to kill you!" The look in Inko's eyes was almost pleading, begging, but that didn't stop the sparks in his heart from catching.
"Mom, this is my dream!"
"Then find a new one!"
Inko realized what she said, and for a moment looked like she was about to apologize, but then… she didn't. Her mouth closed, and a stiff silence filled the void between them.
So that's what she really thought. Izuku grit his teeth and clenched his fists till his knuckles went white, but said nothing.
Of course that's what she thought. He was a glass doll to her, remember? She encouraged him to be a hero in the same way you humor a kid who wants to be an astronaut. But the moment it looked like he would push for it, she pulled the carpet out from under him.
Inko took a slow, unsteady breath, and spoke again, but quietly, slowly. Cautiously. "...Izuku, you scared me. A lot. You're my son, and there isn't a single person I care about more, and if you could be a hero, I'd support you however I could."
Not a single word leaving her lips was true, was it?
"But… You can't." She continued, unable to look him in the eye. It was easier to say it that way, wasn't it? When she didn't have to look into his eyes as she spat on his dreams. He bit his lip. "You can't be a hero. And I can't bear to see you get yourself hurt anymore."
Inko reached out to rest her hand on top of his, a gentle smile on her face, but he scooted away. Her smile died, though Izuku doubted it was ever real in the first place, and she sighed.
"This morning, the news reported that a hero was attacked in steeltown."
Izuku's heart stopped. Did-
Did she know?
"Someone with a duplication quirk attacked her, and now she's in critical condition." Izuku was careful not to sigh in relief, but he did raise his eyes to look at Inko. To see the fear in her eyes. The fear only a parent could have.
"The only thing I could imagine is… what if that was you?" She looked to be on the edge of crying, and unconsciously, Izuku reached out, holding her hand. "Villains, they don't care who they hurt, Izuku, and if that were you there instead of her-" She choked on her words, unable to say what she meant. The budding tears in her eyes said enough.
Part of him wanted to rage at that. His mom thought so little of him, that he would die so easily. She didn't know he was the one who broke Warp, that he was not only strong enough to be a hero, but strong enough to beat them. Sick pride coiled around his heart, the snake offering him the apple.
The feeling was quashed as soon as it sprouted. He shouldn't take pride in hurting people! Defending that man? That he could be proud of, but hurting Warp..?
… He'd think about that later.
"Mom, I won't let that happen." He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and spoke with uncompromising strength. "I know I'm weak. I know I'm not made to be a hero and… Honestly I don't even know if I want to be a hero anymore. But… I want to change the world, Mom. I don't care how many bones I have to break to do it. I'm going."
There were a few moments of strained stares, the two sets of green eyes so similar yet so different. Where Inko's held fear, Izuku's held bravery; where Inko's held hesitance, Izuku's only held strength.
It was Inko who broke off the stare. She laughed softly, mirthlessly. "You've always been like this, you know? You would set your mind to something, and keep doing it, no matter what anyone else says. So much like your father." She sighed, and met his eyes once again with a surrendering smile. "I can't stop you now either, can I?"
Izuku stood, but he still held her hand. "No, you can't."
"Just… go." Her fingers, short and soft, slipped from his grip. "Please, please don't get yourself hurt. That's the only thing I'll ask."
Izuku watched her closely, and he noticed a distinctly cold shard in his soul. He loved his mother. He didn't want to hurt her.
But some part of him despised her.
"I promise I won't." He lied.
With that, he turned on his heel, and left the room to get ready. Himiko waited by the door, holding a bag with all of his gear in it. Her smile was wide, but her yellow eyes had an… intensity. Something cold that gripped his heart in a stranglehold.
"Good luck, my wolf." She spoke quietly, holding him close with the barest touch. Their eyes met, and her gaze carelessly tore into his soul.
He cast his eyes downwards. "Do you think I'll pass?"
"I don't know. " She spoke into his ear, and then nibbled it. "But you're ready."
He shot her a confused look, but she simply smiled warmly. Someday, Izuku would understand her. But until then… He owed her so much. Today, he had to succeed. For her. As he let go of her and stepped out the door, he realized he was past the point where confidence mattered.
No matter what, by the end of today, his life would be forever changed.
)ooOoo(
There was still a slight chill in the air as Izuku made his way towards the entrance to U.A., enough that several of the students wore scarves of gloves along with their winter uniforms. A few clouds dotted the sky, but the blue of spring still rang out, a calm ocean that complimented the lively green of the trees' rustling leaves. It was a beautiful spring day.
But that wasn't what Izuku was focused on. He took deep, steady breaths as he walked, making his way towards the school. There were a lot of students here, and if he was honest, most looked far more qualified than he was to get in. Of course, most of them would never get in. One in three hundred acceptance rate to the hero program, after all. He sighed, but he didn't let the steel in his eyes waver.
A year ago, he would've been scared. Intimidated. He was facing off with the cream of the crop here, the best in Japan, and even now his nerves pricked at his skin anxiously.
He still didn't know if he was ready, regardless of what Himiko said. Honestly, the fight with Warp had taken a lot out of him, and the bruises still stung. But he'd been training, and he had a plan.
Breath.
Breath.
He steadied his heart.
And then he tripped.
Well, if he was honest, this seemed about right for today.
An inch before he hit the ground, though, he suddenly… stopped.
Maybe he had been wrong over the past fifteen years of his life, but Izuku was pretty sure that wasn't how gravity worked.
A girl laughed cheerfully, followed quickly by a, "Hey, are you okay?"
"U-uh…" Izuku's brain spiralled to comprehend the situation. Telekinesis? No, that didn't feel right, it didn't feel like he was being held up, more like gravity just didn't apply anymore. But he also suddenly lost all momentum, which-
That thought was suddenly cut short as his stomach twisted up, not at all happy with the present situation, and Izuku choked back the urge to vomit. He meekly spoke up. "P-please let me down…"
"Oh! Sorry!" She laughed, embarrassed, and quickly moved to plant his feet on the ground. As soon as he was on stable ground, she tapped her fingers together, and all Izuku's weight returned to him. "I probably should've asked first, I just saw you were falling."
"O-oh, don't worry!" Izuku stuttered, waving his hands in front of his face. "I just wasn't expecting it!"
"It's zero gravity, by the way." Izuku snapped his head up, but the girl just laughed, casual and friendly. "You mutter under your breath."
"Yeah? I'm, uh, I'm sorry…" Izuku laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, unsure what to really say. He looked like a weirdo, didn't he? Well, no amount of training could fix that...
"Don't be! I think it's funny!" She laughed, a kind and bubbly sound. "And besides, I think we're all nervous!"
"You can say that again." Izuku found himself laughing along with her, and a weight rolled off of his shoulders. "I've been practicing all year, and well, here I am."
For the first time since she stopped him from falling, he worked up the bravery to actually look at her. Just a tad bit shorter than Izuku, the roundness of her face and the warm chestnut of her hair and eyes all came together into a feeling that Izuku could only describe as 'friendly.' Her energetic smile naturally fit her face, and she seemed to constantly be on the edge of a happy laugh. He gave a soft smile, and opened his mouth to speak-
"... piece a' shit." A gruff shoulder shoved him over, and Izuku barely caught himself. Turning, he caught sight of a spikey tuft of blond hair and a vicious scowl, but only for a moment, before Bakugou slipped back into the crowd, shoulders hunched.
Izuku frowned. He hadn't wanted to run into Bakugou here because, if it was anything like every other time he saw his old friend, he'd be in a fight before they even got to the written exam. He had guessed it would be even more rough since it was the first time they saw each other since the fight, and Bakugou had some pride to recover. But instead… he did that?
"Who was that?" The brown haired girl spoke up, confusion in her voice.
"Just… someone from my school." Izuku struggled to pick out the right words. Even that wasn't right, it sounded too distant. But he wasn't going to use the word friend anywhere near Bakugou's name. "If I'm honest, that's one of the best interactions I've had with him."
He hadn't shouted, hadn't tried to pick a fight. He may have insulted him, but it was in passing, as if he didn't want to risk being around Izuku any more than he needed to. That fight must've really done a number to him.
… Izuku chose to ignore his swelling pride.
The girl shook her head, but gave Izuku a determined grin. "Well, the best way to show him up is to pass! I can't imagine someone with that attitude would get in."
Izuku's frown softened, and then a light smile grew on his face. "... You're right." It was strange, seeing other people criticize Bakugou. It wasn't even much criticism, but it was more than he ever saw at school. Maybe he could fit in here.
He mechanically stuck out his hand, and gave his most confident, yet still not very confident, smile. Hopefully that was a good way to introduce himself? "I-I'm Izuku. Midoriya Izuku."
With a slight laugh at his awkwardness, the girl returned his smile, and shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you Midoriya! I'm Uraraka Ochako."
"I'm just glad not everyone here is, uh…" Izuku scratched his chin, laughing nervously. "Cutthroat?"
Uraraka laughed, and nodded. "That makes two of us!"
The pair began making their way into the the exam site, and despite all his anxiety, he felt something he wasn't expecting:
Welcome.
)ooOoo(
There was a quiet murmur in the locker room as the examenes prepared, with the most confident ones talking to each other while most simply focused on preparing their gear. Izuku couldn't blame them; even considering that most of these kids have been preparing for this for years, the nervous tension in the room was enough to strangle most conversation. He chewed on his lip, casting an analytical glance at his competition.
Most had gear they had brought along, seemingly stuff to more finely control their quirks: a lens-like device that one kid had on his belt, for example. Izuku could hardly imagine how much money these people's families had to spend to get custom quirk gear. It really showed how much affluence was concentrated in this exam. The creme de la creme of hero students seemed to correlate quite strongly with money. Izuku scowled, and shook his head.
Others seemed to neither need nor have any gear of course; the kid with blue hair and glasses with exhaust pipes coming out of his calves seemed to have no gear on him besides maybe some custom-tailored athletic pants, though that hardly even counted as gear. But it didn't take much to notice his connection to the Ida family, a prominent hero family that has been in the industry for three generations. While never on top of the charts, their organization was as stable as it was successful. There was certainly no lack of money or pedigree there.
Opening his own bag, digging through it for his 'gear:' a dozen throwing knives and a belt to stash them in. Basic, and… well, probably not much compared to what Bakugou or any number of other emaninees had. He dug through the bag, looking for the final knife, when a stinging pain sliced open his finger. He gasped, but pulled out the object. His eyes went wide.
… The mask.
It's gold teeth gleamed viciously in the dull white light of fluorescent bulbs, a carnivorous smile. He stared at the thing of leather and steel, not quite able to just put it back.
Oh no, no, no, he wasn't putting this on, not after last night! It did something to him, and whatever it was, he didn't want to gamble it here! His gut twisted into chain knots, vividly recalling the hungry bloodlust he felt as he stabbed and slashed at Warp. He could still taste her blood on his tongue, stale copper and oxidizing iron mixed with a fire of life and passion...
He flicked his knife open, running his thumb down the icy cold flat of the blade.
No! No, that was impossible. It had been almost a day since the fight, there was no way he was tasting her blood. It had to be his imagination!
… Which was even worse.
He shoved the thoughts to the back of his head, kicking himself. He had an exam in just a few minutes! One that would change his life! And-
And there was no way he could use this in it! It was black market materials, he shouldn't even have it here!
He slapped his forehead. Himiko! She must've packed it! Did she even think about what she was doing? Less than twenty-four hours ago this thing ripped off a piece of flesh from a pro hero, and she must've thoughtlessly put it in his bag.
He decided to believe that, and not pay attention to how immaculately clean it was, despite having been covered in bloodstains last night.
"Five minutes to start, listeners!" Present Mic's loud, energetic voice crackled over the loudspeaker, just as boisterous as he was during the pre-exam presentation. "I hope everyone is almost ready for this one-time exam deal!"
Nodding to himself, Izuku shoved the mask back into his bag, and put the whole thing into his locker. Carefully securing the belt of knives to his waist, he quickly made his way to his assigned staging area. A crowd was already gathering, and he settled himself near the back of it. Everyone in the front was jostling for position, but for Izuku that was wasted energy. Simply put, he wasn't going to be making the fast, explosive 'kills' that the people up front would be fighting for. He had no reason to be up there.
No, his strategy was, by necessity, more conservative. He took a deep breath, and made sure each knife was in place as he ran over his plan for the final time.
It had been surprisingly difficult to find anything online about the entrance exam, or much of the curriculum at all outside of the official U.A. site, and what he did find was posted by people who demanded total anonymity. Apparently, U.A. forces its students and examinees to sign an NDA as part of the application contract, which is… well, questionable, to say the least. But from what he could find? That NDA was probably the only reason the school hadn't been sued into the ground. Izuku scowled, but shook the thought away. The legal technicalities weren't what he needed to be focused on today.
No, his worries were of a much more mechanical nature. Robots
The enemies in the exam were robots, that much had been explained by Present Mic earlier, and even mentioned by that girl at the mall. What hadn't been mentioned? They were armed to kill. Apparently even the one-point bot was armed with a pair of gatling guns, though the poster hadn't specified where they were mounted. Heavily armored and aggressive, it took some serious firepower to take even one of them down. This didn't even mention the two or three point bots, which Izuku could only assume were even more dangerous. U.A. was looking for kids that could destroy a tank as a prerequisite to training, and Izuku couldn't even begin to list the problematic implications that had. After all, that probably put Bakugou in the front running.
Another issue to throw on the mounting pile for the hero industry, and yet here Izuku was, still applying, as if he could change that. He sighed.
… But, he didn't have the firepower to bring them down directly. So, Izuku would have to find weaknesses in the joints. While he couldn't find any schematics of the robots, some posters online talked about how the robots had armor that consisted of interlocked tongue and groove joints. His best bet would be to get into the gaps of those joints, pry it open, and mess up the circuitry. All he could hope is that it would be enough to take a few of them down.
He took a deep breath, and plucked out one of his knives, taking a moment to look at it. Izuku had spent hours carefully shining and maintaining each one, using techniques that Himiko had taught him, and after shining each one with a leather strop, he could clearly see his reflection in it.
The anxiety in his eyes was obvious. But the tightness in his chest, it wasn't about the exam.
… Was this what Izuku wanted? It felt stupid asking it, he had dreamt of it since he was a child! He had been training his heart out for a year! He had studied and memorized so much that, if he cut heroism out of his life… he honestly wasn't sure how much of him would be left.
But it just didn't feel right.
Something about standing here, surrounded by people like Bakugou and Ida, by people that hoped to emulate heroes like Warp…
Izuku looked into his reflection, into his own eyes, into his soul.
Was this where he wanted to be? If… if he passed, did he even want to be a hero?
"It's not a bad dream, but you have to face reality, young man."
All Might's words spoke to him differently now. Not about the reality of his quirklessness, but the reality of heroism.
Present Mic's bombastic voice shattered the quiet conversation of examinees. "Go!"
There was a scattering of confused muttering, and Izuku looked up, just as uncertain.
"What's wrong? The test's started! Run, run!" Present Mic's announcement rings through the air. "Villains don't give countdowns!"
That was all the examinees needed to let loose, bulls released into the arena.
A year of training, emotional struggles, breaking himself again and again to make himself stronger. A year fighting Bakugou and all the insults society beat him down with. And most importantly, a year with Himiko, the girl that changed him in ways he couldn't even truly comprehend.
All of it to be put to the test now.
Izuku roared something almost resembling a battlecry, and charged.