Present Mic's announcement rebounded across the facility, doubling and tripling through Izuku's ears. Each echo hit harder than the last. Katsuki? Snipe? A rush of apprehension sloshed through him, anxious debris piling up in his throat.
Izuku almost tripped as Nighteye grabbed him by the elbow, hauling him up into the stands. His eyes were still adjusting, but after a moment or two in the darkness, they found themselves an empty section, no Setsuna or Torino in sight. He blinked again, hoping for some familiar face, but the nearest spectators were awash in anonymous darkness.
While they were collecting themselves, the objects of Izuku's surprise manifested. Out from behind Present Mic came Snipe, appearing just like Izuku's casual research suggested. Snipe was by no means a favorite of his, but he couldn't help but admire the man's swagger. Like Eight, he studied overseas in the Americas; and his suit was proof.
Like a classic pre-quirk era cowboy, Snipe wore a sash of crimson over his midnight compression suit. Accenting the blue-black shirt were beige baggy pants, solid gloves, knee braces, and more buckles than he had any right to own. The crown of his hero suit, however, was the dramatic cowboy hat with a large "S' burned into its face. Dreadlocks and a leather muzzle situated opposite sides of his underbrim, giving him the aura of a country-born outlaw.
While it was mostly for aesthetics, Snipe's suit gave off the impression of a competent crime-wrangler. Half of his approach to heroics was his appearance, and his suit was the perfect accent piece. Not only did it look like he won bar fights and kept cattle, it seemed as though he'd conquered his herd through intimidation alone.
A custom revolver rested at his hip, never more than an inch from his palm. It was bulkier than a typical handgun, with more chambers in its cylinder than a revolver.
"Welcommmmme Snipe! As our resident sharpshooter around U.A., Snipe's been an advanced long-ranged tactician for years, as well as our Algebra teacher! Although the only man of our faculty to not be a U.A. graduate, he's just as rough and tough as the rest of us!" Present Mic boomed, swinging his thin arm around as if to show off Snipe like a well-earned trophy.
A scarce few students dared clap, even as the room had turned a few degrees colder. Izuku expected many were in his boat; none of them had prepared to fight pros. Noticing the tension, Present Mic stepped aside, abandoning the mic to Snipe. Izuku groaned; Snipe's interviews were infamous.
Snipe tapped on the mike for a second, fumbling for a good grip.
"Uh… testin'? 1 2 3? Can y'all hear me?"
Not a single response from the crowd.
"C'mon, man. I just did a whole bit; the mic's fine." Present Mic whispered, elbowing the western Hero.
"Whoops. Anyhoo, it's as Mic said. I'll be taking on our first examinee… uh… Bakugo? Where's ya at, partner?"
Izuku scanned the dark crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of his childhood friend, but found nothing. Snipe tapped on the mic, creating an obnoxious knocking sound that echoed across the cavernous stadium.
"Bakugo… Katsuki? Bakugo Katsuki, where are ya? Let's be clear, y'all; if you're a no-show, you're gonna get cut."
Mummers broke out from the crowd, wondering where the first victim was; but all of a sudden, Izuku heard it. The sounds of struggle; a pop and a crackle, flesh banging against fabric and angry muttering from far behind him. The middlemost light illuminating the center stage twisted, slicing through the stadium until it landed on the highest seat behind them. Izuku, at that moment, felt like a fish out of water.
Best Jeanist stood far above, his denim strings entangling a young blond. Katsuki was thrashing in place, even as the threads cocooned him. It was a scene out of a dream; Kacchan trapped by the third greatest hero in Japan was one thing, but what drew Izuku's true gaze was…
He bumped an elbow into Nighteye's ribs.
"Sir, what's with that haircut?"
Nighteye might not have laughed, but Izuku would never miss a chortle from the man. But even as he jested at his childhood playmate's expense, Bakugo's thrashing stopped, his bull-headed attempts to get free slowing. His eyes, crimson pools of blood, searched through the crowd as if looking for something.
He didn't know how Katsuki saw him; he was still in the cover of darkness, but he was certain. It was the way he stopped struggling, the way his eyes hardened on Izuku's own. In the brief window he stopped his rampage, Jeanist leaped through the air, carrying Katsuki down towards the stage. Their backs remained illuminated as the spotlight followed, highlighting their arc as they landed beside Snipe.
Katsuki turned one last chin over his shoulder, glaring at Izuku. The sensation was eerie; like a person making eye contact with him in his dreams. Before Izuku could tell if it was anger or something else in Katsuki's eyes however, his shoulders slumped and his attention returned to the stage.
A single denim thread stole the mic from Snipe, flicking the device into Jeanist's hands. Katsuki took the time to rub his head with a righteous fury, pulling it out of the neat comb-over it'd been in.
"Hello, Heroes of U.A. I come to offer you this young talent; although I'm afraid to say he isn't mine. What you are about to witness is his own talents, I am merely a shepherd of the Connection Program." Jeanist said, before tossing the mic back to Present Mic. With a feather weighted pull, the third greatest hero swung back into the crowd, leaving his "student" alone.
More mummers broke out, even now. Izuku looked at Nighteye, the question not yet even formed on his tongue before the man responded.
"The Connection Program gives exceptional students with no connections the chance to participate in 1Z. Unlike us, they are not a mentor-student combination. That does not, however, mean that Jeanist is just handing this chance out. The boy must be exceptional to have earned his eye."
Izuku leaned back in his chair, intrigued but not surprised.
"I-I guess that makes sense. Kacchan was always the best around. Though he never would've given himself that haircut." Izuku said, just as Nighteye's eyes widened.
"You know him? I trust Jeanist's observation of the boy, but what do you know of his skill?"
"W-well yeah. I used to stick around him when we were little; he was his own little gang boss. Beat every kid he ever fought with. "Specially me…"
Nighteye shifted, his intrigue warping into confusion.
"He… abused his quirk on you? Am I understanding you right? Why would he come to be a hero? Why didn't you report him?"
Izuku said nothing as Present Mic backed off the stage, allowing Katsuki and Snipe some room. He began to count down, starting from ten and getting subsequently slower with each count. Izuku struggled to respond as the weight of the room grew thick; as Present Mic drew closer to one, the tension seemed to rise. The crowd, just like him, was dialed into the exchange
It was only when Present Mic got to the last letter that Izuku could find his voice again.
"One! Go, go, go!"
"Kacchan… was an asshole who made all the mistakes powerful kids do. But if there was anyone All Might inspired more than us, it was him."
The millisecond Present Mic's count ended, Snipe's revolver was already in his hand. One shot fired; a second, a third, and a fourth bang went off in quick succession, blasting through where Katsuki had been standing.
Or at least, the crowd thought those last three bangs had been bullets. It'd only taken three cracks of Explosion for Katsuki Bakugo to reach the pro hero, both palms jammed together in the man's face before unleashing a fourth.
The following explosion sent Snipe flying into the wall, the stone cracking from the force. Yet the Western Hero didn't waver, and fired off two more shots. Izuku's stomach was doing flips as Katsuki took both head-on, both missiles pelting his shoulders. The force sent the young man stumbling back, but he never fell. From this distance, Izuku couldn't hear them, but not even he could miss the way Snipe paused to tip his hat to the guy.
"Oh." Nighteye said, watching Katsuki tank Snipe's rubber bullets and still dashing around with impunity. "I see."
In one blink, Katsuki would be on the defensive, tanking some bullets and blasting others off-course. In the next, he'd be on Snipe's flank, launching blast after blast in his face. Still, while he seemingly eclipsed the hero in maneuverability, power, and durability, his ultimate downfall was Snipe's cape. As far as Izuku knew, he hadn't changed its composition in recent years, and that meant two things: it was force resistant, but more importantly, fireproof.
It was like a liquid shield, hanging on his left side. No matter how much Katsuki wailed onto the man, the cape countered him. By Izuku's estimate, he'd need at least quintuple the firepower to completely overshadow its unique design, something he knew the guy could only do after saving up several pints of sweat. Even still, a single heavy blast would knock the man out should Katsuki land one on his right flank.
Unfortunately for him, that seemed improbable. It was hard to tell if the blond even noticed, but Snipe was kiting him the whole while, always walking clockwise around him. The rare times Katsuki got on his vulnerable side, Snipe would force him to backstep with his rapid-fire pistol, and then the cycle would repeat.
After almost five minutes of this, Katsuki's knees finally caved, his right falling to the earthen stage's floor.
"He may not have been much of a protector back then, but his desire to crush villainy far exceeds anyone else's." Izuku said, looking at the young man as he struggled to his feet. Thoughts of that embarrassing day on the train surfaced, reminding him how Katsuki knew of his greatest failure. The shame that filled him was immense; but more than that, a small gratitude bloomed within. It was obvious that Katsuki hated him, yet he'd never told a soul. Without Katsuki's sealed lips, Izuku's life might've gone far worse in the meantime.
His thankfulness stayed strong, even as the guy slapped away Snipe's helping hand. He stood on his own, slouched, gruff, and exhausted. Perhaps to the other heroes present, he appeared the opposite of heroic, but appearances mattered little to Izuku nowadays. Deep down, Izuku knew the truth of his character, even as he managed to hide it so well.
Izuku liked to think a sliver of that true self shined through as Snipe took the mic and slapped him on the back.
"Well, that was a lot darn harder than I thought'd be. I can't say I expected this, comin' from a Connection Kid, but he's the real deal, folks. Bakugo… uh… Katsuki, you've got my seal of approval. Welcome to 1Z, bar you commit any felonies in the next thirty days."
Nothing obvious changed about the boy's posture, minus the tiny flick of his chin. Illuminated crimson eyes met darkened green ones for one last second before Katsuki nodded, shook Snipe's hand, and wandered off.
"Hmm. Watch out for him when he joins your class. He seems to be a wild one." Nighteye said, thumb and forefinger on his chin. Izuku nodded, but said nothing. He'd be doing more than just watching out for the guy, if his instincts were right. A long talk was due.
"Well that was some darn-tootin' entertainment, wuzznit? Who knew that kid was such a powerhouse, and here I thought all he could make was firecrackers!" Present Mic said, sliding back onto the stage. Even though Snipe wore an anonymous mask, nobody could mistake the death glare he gave the Radio Hero. Present Mic gave the furious stare no more attention than a fly on the wall, going with the flow of the moment instead.
"Alrightie then, as for our next examinee, it'll be Whirlwind's very own son, Inasa Yoarashi! Inasa, come on dowwwwnnnn!"
Izuku's eyes bulged, hearing that introduction. Whirlwind had a son? Taking the test today? Huh. He thought Whirlwind was an older hero; basically retired nowadays.
"Oh hell yeah!" A voice screamed, almost as loud without a mic as Present Mic was with one. The spotlight swiveled, pointing towards a human-cannonball hurtling towards the center. The young man was massive; bigger than some of the adult heroes Izuku'd seen that day, and the speed at which he hurdled to the floor was frightening. Right before he hit the ground and broke every bone in his body, however, a massive gust of wind pushed him aloft, slowing his descent to nothing. He hovered in the air for a moment, his winds carrying his bellowing laugh across the colosseum. "Yo Mic, who am I fightin'? I'm so freaking pumped! This is way better than I was expecting!"
Present Mic laughed at the boy's enthusiasm just as Izuku cracked a grin. The energy was infectious.
The spotlight swiveled back up to the stands as a loud whistle went off, drawing the crowd's attention. Izuku's eyes turned to saucers as the light revealed Whirlwind—and presumably Inasa's mother. She was gorgeous; her youth clung to her like a second skin, her neat expression only marred by the blinding white crescent she called teeth. As for the hero himself, he was grey-haired with wrinkles carving grooves through his face by the dozen. Izuku blinked, looking to Nighteye.
"Isn't that a little… weird?" Izuku asked, to which Nighteye elbowed him.
"Don't be rude. They seem like a lovely couple. But yes, it is."
"Oh my, I love to see such energy!" A feminine voice called, a slender figure waltzing out of the shadows. Midnight looked as good as any video Izuku'd ever seen; perhaps better. Her skintight leotard was far less revealing than it was a few years ago, but it hid none of her shape or volume. At least nowadays she covered her private parts. It surprised Izuku that they let her dress as she did, even if she was as modest as he'd ever seen her. She was supposed to teach children, right?
Inasa didn't even bat an eye at the notorious seductress, instead letting himself fall all the way to the ground. His knees barely bent to absorb the impact, yet he seemed no worse off than before.
"As for this vigorous young man, we've chosen to challenge him with our most vigorous woman! Midnight graduated in one of our best classes of this century; and I would know, because we were in the same class! Let me tell you something folks; just because she has a disabling type quirk, don't expect her to be a pushover in combat. She's a total monster, just the perfect match for boy wonder!"
"Alright!" Inasa exclaimed, just as loud as Present Mic.
"Fufu, this is going to be fun." Midnight said, slipping the mic out of the blond's hand. "I'm expecting… big things from you, Whirlwind Jr."
With a wink, she tossed the mic back to Present Mic, and the countdown began.
"Ten…"
Izuku's clothes began rustling, a small breeze upsetting the hem of his shirt. His bangs began to sway alongside them as the timer continued to go further down, the power of the breeze inversely proportional to how low the number went. Around five, when Izuku was squinting so as to avoid any flying dust, his pocket buzzed.
Setsunasaurus: Dude. dude. Dued. rbo. I can't tell if I'm in love with her or creeped out by her
Izuku Midoriya: She's certainly pretty. Where are you? Where is Gran?
Setsunasaurus: We found shoto. Endeavor's as touchy as always. I can't believe you have the balls to still train with that guy sometimes
"Four…"
Setsunasaurus: hello
Setsunasaurus: that was shoto btw. Also ur not allowed to say she's pretty. Midnight is for the ladies. Shoto definitely agrees.
Setsunasaurus: yes I am shoto and I agree
"Three…"
Izuku began to curl into a ball. Without a good grip on his shirt, the speeding winds were liable to rip it off his back. It was wild to think a kid had this much power; those Whirlwind genes must really shine.
Izuku Midoriya. Of course it was. And why can't I call her pretty? It's just a fact. It's not like I'm swooning over her.
"Two…"
Setsunasaurus: There's a limited amount of pretty girls in your life, and you're already at max capacity. She is mine
Izuku felt his face grow warm. Her confidence always wowed him. He confirmed Nighteye wasn't reading over his shoulder, but the man was far too busy keeping his glasses on his head to spy on him.
Izuku Midoriya: Max capacity? I think I've got room to expand; I wouldn't want my mom to get lonely.
Setsunasaurus: i hate you
"One!"
It was like swimming underneath a huge wave. The entire air pressure of the colosseum distorted, ripping loose clothing free and throwing people from their seats. Curses and yelps rang through the stadium, though no voice grew louder than the roar of wind in their ears.
The earthen floor of the arena ripped free, ground into dust to give tangible strength to Inasa's personal tornado. Izuku fumbled as he almost lost grip of his phone; and in his haste to retrieve it, his seat. Tumbling forward, he almost pitched over the railing before Nighteye sacrificed his glasses to pull him back.
He looked back to the man, no longer seeing the spotlight's reflection in his glasses. A note of embarrassment ran through him.
"My bad!" Izuku yelled over the wind, choking as debris caught in his throat. Nighteye didn't reply, only reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a new pair.
In the center, it was like a wrestling match between globulous bulges of air. Behind Inasa was dirty brown wind, revolving like a generator as he gathered more and more power. As for Midnight, she had surrounded herself with her own fumes, forcing Inasa to create a pocket around her if he didn't want her sleeping power to spread. His control astonished Izuku; Inasa kept their powers separated like oil and water. It was quite a feat to not let any of the woman's quirk seep into his own; wind-type quirks were infamous for their wild and unpredictable nature.
As the stalemate dragged on, two things became clear. Whirlwind's son was a genius, and Midnight's skill far outstripped the media's perception of her. Even as the gap in their sheer strength grew apparent, Midnight stayed calm. Even as Inasas began throwing air-drills towards her defenses, and began compressing her fumes more and more, she remained the epitome of confidence and grace.
If Izuku were to judge by sheer size, Inasa had generated at least quadruple the strength of Midnight. His tornado encompassed her own and then some; but more than that, it began to eat away at the woman's protection. Instead of ripping it apart like a normal tornado would, it seemed the boy's inner winds did more to compress than pull. Midnight's bubble dwindled, shrinking from being house-sized to a room, and then from a room to a refrigerator. By the time Inasa stopped, the thin wisps of pink in the air condensed into a pink blob.
"You can't keep playing defense, lady! Let's see some moves!" Inasa yelled, his voice ripping through the stands just as his stray winds did. Not a soul misheard him.
Throughout it all, however, the soft thuds of laughter began to echo. The roaring wind should've drowned the voice out, but like Inasa's, it surfed on the wind currents, spreading throughout the colosseum.
"Oh heavens! How I adore such youth!" Midnight said, her giggle tickling everyone's ears. "I wonder how cute you'd be asleep in my arms!"
Her arm was like a shank; ripping a tiny hole in the prison Inasa made for her, but it was enough. His compression of her gas only extended a foot it seemed, and the second her fingertips inserted themselves into the more conventional airflow of his hurricane, her pink powder escaped.
His power worked against him here, drawing forth the full force of her quirk into his own. It spread like a flood, pouring into the core of his hurricane and the stands alike.
Izuku didn't sense anything from Danger Sense, however. Even as he scrambled to pull his shirt up to his nose, he felt nothing. His research had shown him that Midnight's sleep-inducing quirk took seconds to incapacitate women, but should it enter a man's system, they'd be out in a blink.
Yet the wall of pink never reached them. Instead of Inasa's winds carrying it into the stands, it stopped far before it even reached the closest spectator. Izuku was amazed as it slowly retreated, alongside the massive indoor storm. From the sheer sound, Izuku calculated no loss in strength, yet there was no more breeze in the stands. At a glance, it appeared to have faded, but that was wrong. In fact, it seemed Inasa's tornado had actually compressed, only to spin faster.
He drew all of Midnight's sleep-gas onto himself, a small bubble of nothingness protecting him like an astronaut's helmet. As amazing as that was at a glance, what truly impressed Izuku was what he did next.
The tornado began to warp, spinning faster and faster as it began to elongate and thin out. What once was a colosseum-wide hurricane had now turned into a pink drill, no wider than a person was tall.
"You're so awesome, Midnight! But I'll have to pass!" Inasa roared, before seemingly grabbing the tapered bottom of his creation and twisting. Like spinning in place with a rope, the thin tornado was pulling with the motion, wrapping around him like a roll. The final product was a sphere twice as long as his wingspan; it was obvious the sheer effort he was putting into holding it together, but even then, he didn't try to make it an endurance match of things.
In one glorious motion, he slammed one foot into the dirt, twisted his waist, and threw the massive pink orb through the colosseum's exit. It exploded with a dull thud; the only sound in the stadium were the dull cries of surprised pedestrians. A hush had fallen over the in-house spectators.
No one said a word; no muttering tickled Izuku's ears, no enthused announcer interrupted the moment. For a brief second, everyone sat in quiet awe, imagining what kind of monster Whirlwind's son would become.
The object of everyone's attention was huffing and puffing, one knee planted on the floor, yet it wasn't in defeat. Midnight snatched the microphone from the stunned Radio Hero, marching into the midst of the arena alongside Inasa Yoarashi. She helped him to his feet, even as he towered over her.
"Well…" Midnight began, her confidence facade cracking for a second. "Snipe said it best. I didn't quite expect this… But this kid is cool! I concede! Welcome to 1Z! And for your first lesson… Meet me somewhere private. I wanna instruct you on how to appropriately manage my… assets. Throwing sleeping gas outside doesn't work as well in the real world, champ, but it'll work here! Congrats."
She went in to shake his hand, but before she could manage the professional gesture, Inasa snatched the mic. It jumped from her hand to his, rustling the loose dirt alongside it.
"Thanks for the opportunity, U.A.! I'm excited to join, but I'm even more excited to work with all you guys in the stands! Plus Ultra!" He said, putting the mic far too close to his mouth. Izuku winced, wishing he had the capacity to cover both his ears with his hands instead of one. With his outro completed, Inasa slapped Midnight's palm, guided her into a clean knuckle-pound, and leaped back into the stands. Midnight was a good actress, but even she couldn't hide how razzled he left her. Eventually, she settled on sighing into the mic.
"Ah… youth. Mic?"
Passing the microphone back to the announcer, she left the way she came, hips swinging. Present Mic seemed to brim with excited energy.
"Wow, what a match! Careful, folks, I don't wanna alarm you, but that might've been our best one of the night! Who woulda thought the students would've gotten a slot twice in a row? Let's pray our next hopeful has half as much energy as Whirlwind Jr! Next up, Yoru Sashimi!"
Despite how snappy Present Mic was, the rest of the crowd was still lagging behind. Many had begun muttering amongst themselves, wowed. Even Izuku, as focused as he was, found his excitement bubbling over.
"Wow. That guy was a total monster. Did you know Whirlwind had a son, Sir?" Izuku asked, watching as a tiny redhead dropped into the arena. Nighteye shrugged.
"Not really; though it's definitely a good thing. I presume you know his story? He was one of the top ten heroes back when All Might was still a newbie. It was a real shame when he fell out of the public eye. He did good work, and if today's performance meant anything, his son might be even better. Looks like there's gonna be real competition for Valedictorian, isn't there?"
Izuku nodded, pulling out his phone. He felt a bit scandalized by Setsuna's last response, only catching it as of that moment. Staring at the message again, however, birthed a small yearning in his chest; he wanted to watch the test with her.
Izuku Midoriya: Can we meet up? Not that there's anything wrong with Nighteye, it's just…
Setsunasaurus: Gotcha, nerd. signal beam: incoming
Halfway across the stands, a tiny phone light appeared, drawing his eye. Poking Nighteye's shoulder, Izuku nudged him in the light's direction.
"That's our group, Sir. Let's head over before any of us get called down." He said, to which Nighteye frowned.
"Are the Todoroki men with them?" He said, his eyes squinting as the phone's light refracted both yellow and red to the seats adjacent to it. Izuku nodded.
"Yeah. I wanna meet up before any of us fight. Strength in numbers, right?"
"Feel free, but I'm not joining you. If you go now, this is where we part. I'd rather not ruin your day with mine and Endeavor's squabbling."
Izuku bit his inner lip, having forgotten. They never did quite like each other, even as they continued to work on the Crow together. Izuku hesitated; he wanted his mentor's support all the way through, but if it was him or Setsuna…
"Alright. Wish me luck, sir. Thanks for everything." Izuku said, throwing out a hand for him to shake. Nighteye stared at him, face blank, before slipping his palm into Izuku's own. He said nothing as his eyes began to glow, the purple light standing out in the darkness of the stands.
Without such a glow, Izuku might not have been able to see the frown that suddenly marred his expression.
"Focus on what I've trained you in… but don't forget that we're not done. The path of mastery is one we'll continue to walk together, regardless of what happens tonight. Show them your best self, and good luck."
"...Yes, sir."
Izuku found himself mirroring his master's frown as he left, his mind turbulent. Did he use Foresight? What was with the ominous goodbye?
Being so focused on himself, he didn't notice the walking hazard that was the spectators before him. His foot caught on the shoe of another, sending him sprawling.
Before he could trip all the way, however, a hand caught him, armored and cold to the touch. Izuku's eyes widened as a sudden flare of light from the arena illuminated the Jet Hero, Ingenium's silver armor reflecting the light with a mirror finish. When someone spoke, however, it came from his left, rather than his mouth.
"Be more careful, immediately! This is no palace to wander like some wayward prince! Take this exam seriously, or leave!" A voice said, indignant and not at all matching Ingenium's cool aura. Izuku blinked. The brief second he'd seen both their faces, it was staring at two clones; bar the speaker's softer cheeks and glasses. Did Ingenium have a son?
"S-sorry. I'll be more careful. Good luck in your test." Izuku replied, before hurrying away. While the younger man didn't seem hostile, Izuku was in no mood for his energy. Uptight, proper guys like him always had the most volatile reactions to his disability. Either they bent over backwards for him or bared their teeth; and he didn't want to risk either.
He followed Setsuna's light like a lost sailor, her phone a gracious lighthouse. Focusing on it allowed his mind to ease, her presence overriding his discomfort. Stepping onto the tier seats above them, he sat behind Setsuna and Shoto.
"Hey guys, how we feeling?" He asked, leaning forward just as an explosion rocked the arena.
"Well, I'm sorry to say, but Mr. Sashimi is out cold! Condolences to the family, but I'm afraid we have our first failure of the exam. He'll receive in-house care, of course, as well as compensation for emotional damages. Powerloader, any thoughts?" Present Mic said, passing the device to the winning hero.
"Young Yoru ova' here made the classic mistake of relying on power over technique. Perhaps he might make a better addition to 1A, or even General Studies, but he's just not a fit for the technical masterminds of 1Z. Hard Failure, good luck next time."
"Youch, he's harsh." Setsuna said, spinning in her seat to look at Izuku. Shoto mirrored her, though only with the swivel of his chin.
"Powerloader is an honest man," Endeavor said, his gravel voice startling Izuku. As the man spoke, his stubble began to burn, illuminating his face. "It was why he never cracked the top 100. In any case, it's good to see you, Midoriya. Pray my son doesn't take the last spot before you can even perform."
"Don't be an arse, Todoroki. There will be plenty of stinkers, just look at that Yoru brat. I doubt there's enough talent in this arena to fill a standard class, even if they were lenient." Gran Torino said, muttering from the opposite side. Endeavor snorted, extinguishing the flames on his mustache.
"Allow me to be competitive for my trainees, old man. Lord knows neither of them will say anything themselves."
"That's where you're wrong, father." Shoto said, speaking up for the first time. "Izuku?"
"Yeah?"
"You saw the Yoarashi guy, right?"
"Y-yeah? He was kinda hard to miss."
"Well, so far, he's the only one to actually beat a teacher. That blond guy got in because Snipe liked him. I intend to surpass that."
That surprised him; Shoto was usually never so expressive. The shy kid he used to tutor in math may have grown out of his awkwardness, but never quite his passiveness.
"O-oh?"
"Indeed. Whirlwind's son may have won, but I will be the first to incapacitate a teacher. The fastest, at that. Besides you, I doubt anyone else can even dream of it, so be warned. I will be taking the top spot in our class. No offense, Set"
Setsuna gave a low whistle as he finished his speech, adding in a slow clap for emphasis.
"Damn, Todo. Where's all this aggression coming from?" She asked. "Did pop spit in your tea?"
The mountain of a man shifted, his mustache suddenly lit once again.
"What was that?"
Setsuna squeaked, breaking into micro pieces and reassembling beside Izuku. She rested her palm on his shoulder, placing her chin over it like Izuku was some sort of shield. On autopilot, Izuku placed a hand on her knee, as if that would protect her from the Hellfire Hero. Endeavor didn't leap over the seats, however, intent on turning her to ash. After a moment of glaring at her, he shrugged, giving it up.
"It's coming from nowhere. I've just made the decision now." Shoto said. Far below, Present Mic was announcing the next challenger: Juzo Honenuki.
Setsuna retracted her cheek from Izuku's own, leaning back in her chair. Izuku missed the warmth, brief as it was.
"Be real, Icy-hot. You just want a good performance here just so you can make up for your math exam, right?"
A puff of flame burst to life in Shoto's eye—to which he clamped down with a hand, wide-eyed and indignant.
"No! I'll be fine. The test wasn't that hard."
Izuku raised an eyebrow.
"Wait… it was just Algebra 2. Don't tell me all my efforts were for nothing." Izuku said, just as Endeavor gave his son a side eye.
"I put Chica through college just for you to fail an Algebra 2 test?" He muttered, before turning back to the arena in a huff. "Midoriya. Revise with my son before school starts."
"I did not fail! It was just… a little hard. It's been years. It'd be fresher in my mind if you hadn't made me take it so long ago, father."
"Excuses. You think you can defeat a professional when you can barely manage angles and graphs?"
Their attention shifted back to the arena then, Shoto fuming in silence. Izuku and Setsuna's shoulders touched, the steady contact keeping him warm. Being back in her presence had erased any lingering unease Nighteye had imparted upon him. Together, they watched as one by one, examinees either passed or failed.
Honenuki was excellent, to Izuku's surprise. His quirk was the perfect counter to Cementoss, allowing him to almost melt any attack the Concrete Hero threw at him. Even as the matchup was favorable, his skill was obvious. Izuku never caught what hero sponsored him, but it was obvious that somewhere in this grand hall, a mentor was watching with pride.
A dozen other hero-hopefuls came and went, and while most of them left rejected, Setsuna cheered for them all, especially the girls. A ginger girl, Kendou, caught their eye as soon as she stepped into the light, and boy did she not disappoint. While her actual quirk finesse was rather lacking, her combat skill was just as good as theirs, perhaps even better. She never did end up fully subduing her opponent, Ectoplasm, on the count of his clones, but she came close, and for that, she was accepted.
Ingenium's clone, as it turned out, was actually a little brother, rather than a son. In the moment, Izuku felt dumb, but he consoled himself. They really did look alike, after all. The brother, despite the stick up his butt, was quick on his feet. For him, fast was an understatement. His opponent, Present Mic, used sound wave attacks, and he still managed to dodge half the time. Not that the boy was faster than sound of course, far from it, but should he strengthen his quirk enough… Thoughts for later.
It was quite an entertaining fight. Present Mic never once let go of the microphone, giving a running commentary all the while.
"Woah! Careful with those things!" He'd say, just barely weaving his head out of the way of the boy's devastating kicks. More than once, a misplaced kick had shattered walls where Present Mic once was. It was quite fascinating to see his skills up close; the Iida family had a long history as heroes, but every generation's fighting style was different. Years ago, the Iidas had used their internal engines to power support gear. Now, they powered exhaust pipes that propelled them at high speeds.
Though the Iida boy never got a clean hit in, he was accepted. Izuku doubted Present Mic would've been conscious to accept him if he had.
Following the youngest son of the Iidas, there were a string of failures. Four students left sourly, each with amazing quirks, but none of the talent Izuku'd seen so far today. Should they pass the standard practical, they might be quite good in the future, but as they were, it was hard to watch. Izuku wanted to march down there himself and correct their form himself, but by the time he would've reached them, they'd already fail.
He supposed not everyone had trained for this test equally.
That string of failures stopped, however, upon one girl's arrival.
Present Mic denoted her as Momo Yaoyorozu, and boy was she something new. Perhaps she wasn't the strongest, nor the fastests or most durable, but her fight was the most interesting. She seemed to be a street-level fighter, capable of punching above her weight class depending on the moment. Her hand-to-hand skills were quite nice, on par with Setsuna's, but where she truly shined was in her tactics and quirk usage. Creating anything out of nothing, she could go from unarmed to holding a baseball bat in a second. It appeared she had a nonlethal preference in weaponry, but more devastating contraptions were within her reach; only coming out as a last resort.
She seemed to be a jack of all trades, rather than a master, though she more than made up for her shortcomings. Bo-staffs, baseball bats, riot shields, and even a scimitar later, she was still up and fighting, though winded. Even when her hero-opponent finally acquired a hard-earned upper hand, however, she whipped out one last weapon: a large artillery rifle. It was quite the sight, seeing a professional hero concede to a young girl with a canon. Setsuna elbowed him in the side when she did so, cupping her hand over his ear to whisper in it.
"Bitches love cannons. Never forget."
Her giggle attracted the attention of Shoto, but she waved him off.
The following fighter was another Connection Kid, but his skills seemed closer to Katsuki's than those four failures from earlier. Though, to be fair, that gap was rather wide.
Neito Monoma… That boy gave Izuku a heart attack. The first thing he did, walking into the arena, was shake his opponent's hand. Innocent enough, at a glance, but the second their hands touched, the fight began. He took the hero's quirk and used it against them, fighting like he'd used it all his life.
Deep in his gut, he felt something lurch; an instinctual recognition, but it wasn't painful. Closing his eyes was a challenge; he didn't want to miss a single second, but it was necessary. Though he'd banished Five back into the static of his thoughts, One for All was still at his fingertips, its will still infused into his bones. He listened to it like the radio; feeling out the way it reacted.
It was tense, but not fearful. Though the power, at a glance, felt ominous and infused with the essence of their enemy, it was nothing. Monoma did not steal the quirk; only copy it. As for his morals, while they very well could've been skewed, no sixth sense in his stomach proclaimed him evil.
One for All felt no true kindred, no connection with the boy. If Izuku had to put it into words, the worst of it felt like Deja Vu.
He lost badly. Though he used his copied quirk like he'd had it all his life, his opponent did the same, only his life had been longer. Still, he was accepted on the basis of his quick thinking and flexibility. Izuku had no qualms with the decision, despite the boy's obvious self-satisfaction.
As the seventh addition to 1Z came back to the stands, Izuku could feel a change in the air. A weight settled over the crowd, the air growing crisp and heavy. Izuku's ears rang in the absence of the spectators' small talk. Their instincts had synced, a hivemind forming around an expectation they pulled from the air like magic. Even Present Mic, ever so boisterous, respected the tension.
"...Alright folks; we've gone through our list. Of our thirty applicants, only seven have passed. Not a single Connection Kid remains; our final three are all of U.A.'s ilk. We've had some amazing talent thus far; Whirlwind's Legacy, a goddess of creation, a walking time-bomb, and even a perfect copycat. Yet here in the announcer's booth, the most anticipated hopeful has yet to come. We were gonna save it for the end, but it's time to throw the good crowd a bone, yeah?"
He raised the mic to the crowd, as if to receive an all-encompassing "Yeah!"
There was no such response; only gelled interest thick with anxiety. He lowered the mic.
"Thought so. Alright, Listeners. Shoto Todoroki! Your opponent is the ever-dangerous, yet ever-graceful Space Hero: Thirteen!"
Shoto stood, just as the crowd let out the breath they'd been holding. No spotlight was necessary; Endeavor's proud flame burned bright beside them, illuminating their entire group. Neither Pro Hero said anything to the boy, but Izuku and Setsuna were sure to slap him on the shoulder, wishing him luck. He said nothing, but gave them a single, long look. It was veiled with a hundred mysteries, but that was fine. Shoto wore his stoicism like an especially thick coat, but Izuku'd learned to see through his thinnest parts.
He was excited.
[x]
AN: Chapter 33 is hard af to write, and 34 will be harder. Not only are they simply difficult material, I'm also on a time crunch. Thanksgiving's got me all messed up, not to mention the world cup and my mom's birthday. Also unrequited love. basically, I'm in hell week. ANYWAYS! How did y'all like the chapter? I am not so much a fan as these chapters individually as I am the arc as a whole. Still, I remember having a shit load of fun writing them.
Review! (ALSO I JUST READ PIRANESI AND IT WAS SOOOOOOO GOOD)