"Oh, for Christ's sake…" the intimidating hero fumed, his gruff tone barely managing to conceal a layer of embarrassed panic at being caught smoking near a school. He casually flicked the glowing cigarette against the ground with a regretful sigh and harshly stamped out the embers with a merciless black boot. He waved a composed, scarred hand above his greasy hair to clear out the lingering smoke. "What the hell are you doing back here?"
"We could ask you exactly the same thing y'know," Youta replied unrelentingly, hurling the stack of crushed boxes inside one of the large, empty dumpsters. They narrowly missed one of the most famous pro heroes in all of Japan as they clattered against the dirty, metallic receptacle. "But, I think it's appropriate to start with – just who do you think you are, talking to us like that?"
"Answering a question with another question," Cinder mumbled, eyes narrowing spitefully towards the foolhardy student. "You should start being more respectful to your teachers. Most of us here at Koushujin don't take too kindly to that kind of impolite language."
"Isn't it a teacher's job to answer any questions their students might have?" Youta grinned, apparently enjoying the challenge with no consideration of the dire consequences. Ochimaru would have stopped his friend from saying anything else to upset the intimidating hero, but he was completely frozen in a mixture of awe and terror. The brave man from his childhood was almost unrecognisable.
"Well, you can start by wiping that smirk off of your face and calling me Kemushiba-sensei," the teacher commanded. Youta scowled as he realised that the man wasn't in the mood to play any of his games. "You might know me better as Cinder – the Smouldering Ash Hero, although I've been officially retired for a few years. Now, I'm only known as the guardian of disrespectful first years."
"Oh yeah, I do sorta remember watching you beat up villains a lot on TV when I was younger," Youta acknowledged, surprisingly offering the annoyed man a short, apologetic bow for his rude words. "Your fights were always amazingly brutal, sensei. I'd even stay up late sometimes to try and catch them uncensored."
"Even your compliments are somehow disrespectful," Cinder sighed, failing to fight back an amused smile as it spread across his lips. "And what about your quiet friend? Is he just gonna stay on his hands and knees down there in the dirt?"
It took a few painstaking moments before Ochimaru realised that the pro hero was referring to him. He stood up wordlessly and bowed far more intensely than Youta had, still confused by Cinder's ragged, almost pitiful appearance. The strict teacher standing in front of him had once selflessly saved his life, but now he looked like a homeless vagrant. Despite insisting that he was retired, he still clung onto his old hero costume that had been stained and torn with overuse, like he hadn't worn anything else in years. His muscled body was far more injured than Ochimaru remembered, with lethal burn scars creeping all the way up to his shoulders like an elaborate tattoo. They were nearly too grotesque to examine.
"Now that I've gotten a better look, those bright-pink eyes are starting to look familiar…" Cinder began, scratching absentmindedly at his scraggly, grey beard as he leaned forward to examine Ochimaru's reddening face. "Have we met somewhere before?"
"You actually s-saved me from being abducted at a shopping centre when I was seven," Ochimaru stuttered, his wandering eyes drawn to a deep scar on the hero's shoulder, revealed by the lacerated uniform. It must have been the bullet wound. "A villain managed to shoot at you before escaping in a car."
"Hang on a minute, Ochi-kun…" Youta hesitated, the remainder of his smile fading as his face scrunched up in total disbelief. "You never told me you were almost freakin' abducted!"
"Ochimaru? You're the one who kept sending me those letters, right?" Cinder asked, his dull eyes suddenly lighting up with recognition. It felt strange to hear his own name uttered by someone of such acclaim. "It's good to see you're on the path of a hero, although I hope that I wasn't the one who inspired you. Letting that villain get away was an amateur mistake."
"Kemushiba-sensei, I was one of the few kids to survive an abduction attempt unscathed," Ochimaru smiled awkwardly, gaze dropping to the crushed cigarette. Even if the older man looked and acted different, he was still the embodiment of heroism. He was still his idol. "And it's all thanks to your selfless work as a hero. That's what inspired me."
"Fate works in mysterious ways," Cinder exhaled distantly, placing a protective, gnarled hand on Ochimaru's shoulder. He couldn't help but wrinkle his button-nose at the scent of pungent tobacco smoke. "Perhaps you were saved because the world needs you. Don't go giving all the praise to an old man who couldn't even catch a single villain with a gun."
"A new generation of professional heroes are needed now more than ever, right?" Youta interjected loudly, cracking his thick, bruised knuckles. He failed to notice the tender reunion taking place in front of him. "Is that why you retired to become a teacher here?"
"Partly," Cinder replied, avoiding the brazen student's prying gaze. His eyes fell sadly to the frail, melted skin barely covering his trembling arms. "Teaching kids is about the only thing I can do nowadays. The drawbacks to my Quirk were just far too severe to keep working."
"Even if you can't work anymore, I still look forward to learning from you, sensei," Ochimaru stated formally. It had always been his dream to interact with Cinder again, although he never could have predicted it would be under these circumstances. He would be training under the hero for the next three years at Koushujin. "You specialise solely in villain apprehension, and that's the kind of pro hero I want to become in the future."
"You definitely know your stuff," Cinder laughed, his intimidating demeanour disappearing. The man who had comforted him all those years ago still existed under that layer of grime. "I always enjoyed getting your little letters that would rate my hero missions. I was actually disappointed when you stopped sending them. You had a good, creative head on your shoulders even at such a young age. I'm sure you'll become a great hero candidate here."
"Wow, I had no idea you were such a fanboy!" Youta teased. Fans of heroes were incredibly common, especially among young kids, which lead to the belief that the hobby was childish. It was no surprise that his friend was mocking him for it. "That explains the big bubble technique during the entrance exam. You've been a pro hero fanatic your whole life, huh?"
"I suspect you'll also make a fine hero, Kaneyama-san," Cinder added, turning to a surprised Youta. The two boys were basically the stars of the Koushujin entrance exam. "Overload is a destructive Quirk, but definitely impressive. Perfect for villain apprehension."
"Don't worry, I'll try my best not to destroy any important school property," Youta grinned cheekily in reply. He even had no problems joking around with a famous professional hero.
"I'll be holding you to that," Cinder grimaced, leading Ochimaru to believe that such events happened often at the hero school. "Anyway, the induction ceremony is starting in a few minutes, so you two should go back and join the other students. I'll be there soon to escort you all to the assembly hall."
"It was a nice surprise seeing you here, Kemushiba-sensei," Ochimaru smiled radiantly, waving at his new teacher as Youta quickly dragged him away from the dumpsters.
"Like I said earlier, fate works in mysterious ways," Cinder replied, guiltily fishing a crumpled packet of cheap cigarettes out of his tattered costume's pocket. "And also, could you not tell any of the other teachers that I've been smoking back here? I've been trying to quit for a couple years now and I won't hear the end of it if they find out."
Koushujin's fabled induction ceremony was far quieter than Ochimaru had expected. The first-years were the only students in attendance, herded into the sweltering assembly hall. He finally had a chance to see all of his classmates grouped together for the very first time. Nineteen other pupils stood silently in a respectful line, some fidgeting uncomfortably due to the heat and others unmoving like wax sculptures. Youta was the only person in the entire line making any noise, whistling a carefree tune as he tapped his feet impatiently. More importantly, were the crowd of teachers seated around a polished podium that was emblazoned with the school's bold, yellow emblem. There looked to be around ten or so.
"Hey, see that woman up there?" a familiar voice asked in a hushed, jovial murmur. Ochimaru attempted to look towards the boy without moving his head even an inch, in fear of being reprimanded by Cinder for chatting disrespectfully before the teacher's speech. He immediately noticed the student's platinum-blond pompadour and the scent of hairspray. Strangely, it was the boy who had kissed him in the exam. "The one that looks like a bird?"
"Yeah…?" Ochimaru whispered stealthily, following the boy's pointed finger towards the female teacher sitting at the very edge of the group. Her winged arms were adorned with dark-grey, elaborate feathers and she had a sharp, keratinous beak. "What about her?"
"What d'you think she eats on her lunch break – worms?" the student grinned, holding back a pleased giggle as he waited for a reaction. Ochimaru was too dumbfounded to offer a reply.
Terrifyingly, the avian teacher's circular head cocked curiously to one side as she focused her glowing, glassy eyes towards the snickering boy. She looked like a grizzled owl, only a few seconds away from swooping down and snatching her helpless prey without a sound. Even from across the entirety of the cavernous assembly hall, she had managed to hear the boy's barely-audible muttering. His stifled laughs were promptly cut short as his eyes widened in surprise, only followed by an awkward clearing of his throat before he fell deathly silent once more. Ochimaru shivered under the owlish woman's intense gaze.
"Daisuke-san, maybe pick your targets a little better next time, yeah?" a boy with frizzy, black hair goaded, being the only other person in earshot to find the poor joke humorous.
Sensing the eccentric crowd's restlessness, a kindly, middle-aged woman with violet hair cleared her throat politely and rose from the very centre of the teacher's semi-circle. The other faculty members quietened down as she took to the tall podium, scanning over the new faces with parental pride, like a ship captain surveying a calm ocean. She had a stout, motherly figure, and graced the students with a wrinkled, sweet-looking smile. Ochimaru struggled to see her face behind a lengthy, bulbous microphone that she gave a soft tap.
"Firstly, before all other matters, I would like to give you all an incredibly warm welcome to Koushujin Hero Institute," she beamed, gripping at the microphone with tickled excitement. The entire crowd couldn't resist smiling back. "My name is Ayumi Mifune, and I am the school's headmistress. Although, that word can have some unpleasant connotations, so I would be very grateful if you could view me as nothing more than another teacher here."
When reading through his acceptance letter, Ochimaru had imagined its writer to be a strict, uptight leader who ruled over the hero school with an iron fist, not unlike the stereotypical headmistresses that Ayumi herself was alluding to. Instead, the woman standing on stage looked more like a tender grandmother who would gladly offer you a plate of freshly-baked cookies. In fact, Misato seemed like a more appropriate headmistress, with her ponytail, business suit and glasses. Ayumi's violet hair and magenta cardigan gave her an inoffensive aura, and she still wore that wide, delighted smile as she continued.
"Here at Koushujin, we abide by three core tenants – endurance, tolerance, and balance. These three simple terms encapsulate everything that I believe a hero candidate should strive towards. Endurance is the strength to continue onwards, and the acceptance that failure is a natural part of life and your studies here. It is to be welcomed, not feared. Tolerance is the most important, as we hold respect for all people within these walls, no matter their background or beliefs. We have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying and discrimination, but from my first look at you all, I feel assured we will have no problems. Lastly, is balance. Training to be a professional hero is difficult, as society can often have quite harsh standards, which I'm sure most of you are aware of already. As such, we offer physical, mental and meditative tutoring to ensure you build a diverse skillset as a hero."
The crowd was enraptured by Ayumi's eloquent words. She was not reading from a script or pausing to collect her thoughts. Instead, she was taking precious time to maintain eye-contact with her students. The entire speech felt deeply personal, like she was putting her very heart and soul into every word. Through it all, her prideful smile never wavered. Ochimaru now understood why she was Koushujin's headmistress. Even though he barely knew the woman, he could tell that she cared for him. Cared far more than anyone else here. Her maternal appearance was beginning to make more sense.
"Following on from the third tenant," Ayumi continued, taking a quick sip of cold water. Every movement she took was gentle, fluid and controlled. "To ensure that you acclimate to what future life will be like as a professional hero, we allow unrestricted Quirk use within the perimeter of the institute. You are now free to practice with your unique abilities to your heart's content, so long as this does not occur beyond the safety of these walls. Recreational Quirk use is vital to becoming comfortable with your own strengths and limits."
"I'm gonna love it here," Youta whispered ecstatically, as Ayumi gladly paused for the astounded crowd to voice their reactions. "This almost feels like a dream, doesn't it?"
"Koushujin has built up quite the positive reputation around Kagoshima, so I dearly hope that none of you shatter that trust by freely using your Quirk in public," Ayumi warned, her soft, optimistic tone only making her words more ominous. "In order to uphold our great reputation, the Koushujin uniform must be worn by all students during weekdays, especially when travelling away from the institute. The uniforms that you ordered previously will be personally delivered to the dormitory today, along with your class timetable for the year."
"There always has to be a catch…" Youta sighed, clearly displeased at having to wear the gaudy Koushujin uniform. Ochimaru was actually looking forward to the yellow blazer.
"Hero lessons will promptly start early tomorrow morning, overseen by Kemushiba-sensei and Torigoe-sensei," Ayumi informed, gesturing towards the dishevelled man with the stained beard and the tall, ruffled avian woman that Daisuke had unwittingly upset earlier. "And now, to close the ceremony with a bang, we have Koushujin's head boy here to talk with you all about his experiences and to give his advice about studying to be a pro hero. Please give a round of applause to our bright, wonderful third-year – Shinji Natsuteru!"
Ochimaru perked up at the sound of the oddly familiar name. He barely had time to remember where he had seen it before a slender boy bounded across the wobbling stage, cheered on by a gaggle of older students who had been waiting silently in the wings for this one moment. It was exciting to see hero candidates who looked older and more experienced. Shinji himself was easily over six feet tall. His muscular, pale arms were dotted with dark freckles and his orange hair sat in staunch, bouncy curls. The third-year was literally overflowing with enthusiasm, as his body emanated a faint, yellow glow like a streetlamp that had just been recently activated. Ochimaru knew that it had to be related to his Quirk.
"Welcome, young heroes!" he shouted with an eager grin, striking a powerful pose next to the podium as the mysterious light surrounding his lithe body only grew more intense.
Shinji was clad in what looked to be his dazzling hero costume. It was fashioned from a material that reflected light, making it even more difficult to look directly at the head boy. Even though Ochimaru's eyes started to water due to the blinding light, he noticed a lightbulb insignia plastered on the boy's chest and a flowing, orange cape reminiscent of heroes from an older generation. Despite still being a student, he already looked like a pro.
"My name's Shinji!" he bellowed. "Or, if you wanna really flatter me, you can call me by my hero name – Lightbright! How many of you guys are excited to get to pick your own alias?"
Silence, save for a few people meekly raising their hands. The head boy's pure enthusiasm was making Ochimaru cringe, and by the looks on his classmates' faces, he wasn't alone. Shinji wasn't fazed by the awkward atmosphere in the slightest, letting out a hearty, carefree laugh that reminded him of All Might. It wouldn't have been surprising if the boy had learned to emulate the number one hero in order to give himself more confidence.
"Hero training isn't easy!" Shinji simply stated, suddenly pulling at the neck of his luminescent hero costume to reveal a deep, morbid scar. It shockingly ran from the centre of his thin neck all the way down to his sternum, branching outwards like a thickened vein. "You're guaranteed to pick up a few of these babies along the way, but you'll also learn to be really proud of them. Each one of them holds a lesson, no matter how small they might be!"
"Not the most reassuring start to a speech," Daisuke muttered, causing a few boys to smirk.
"Scars aside, training to be a hero is one of the most rewarding experiences in the world," Shinji continued, adopting a more serious tone as he readjusted the collar of his costume. "You'll make friends for life here at Koushujin and facing the hardships on the course will only bring you closer together as classmates. Trust me, every single person in my class has saved my life on at least one occasion! Sometimes even more than that!"
His words prompted another cacophony of cheers and hollers from the aforementioned third-years, their intensity indicative of the intense bond that they all shared. One spectacled girl with long, black hair seemed to be a particular fan of Shinji's enthusiasm. Ochimaru wondered if he would ever reach that level of friendship with Youta, or the other students. He doubted that he would ever befriend the serpentine girl or laugh at Daisuke's bad jokes. In times of danger, would the strangers beside him risk their lives to save him?
"Thank you, thank you," Shinji chuckled, bowing gracefully towards his classmates. "Hopefully, all of you here shall be doing more saving and less getting saved when you start your hero internships! Rescuing your first civilian by yourself is something that you'll never forget, trust me. Learning to use your Quirk properly to save the lives of others makes you feel indestructible! I've finally found my purpose in life here at Koushujin, and I'm sure that all of you will feel the same way in a couple years. That's really all I wanted to say, to be honest. Better to keep things short and sweet so nobody gets bored."
"Thank you for those passionate words, Shinji-kun," Ayumi announced, clasping the twinkling boy gently on the back. The pride she felt towards him was highly noticeable. "Would you mind ending off this ceremony with our institute's motto and a lightshow?"
"It'd be an honour, Mifune-sensei," Shinji replied happily. "If you take anything away from your three years here at Koushujin, let it be these three, simple words – we all belong!"
The humming, lustrous light surrounding the head boy suddenly flooded inside of his chest. With a deep breath of air that puffed out his freckled cheeks, he lifted his muscular arms high above his ginger hair like he was trying to touch the ceiling of the hall. Ever so slowly, a brilliant orb of phosphorescence floated up from his hands, roughly the size of a basketball. It was as if the boy had summoned a miniature sun to shine down upon the amazed crowd of students. Uncontrollable, gleaming light spilled forth from his once-blue eyes as his limber form convulsed rapidly, barely able to move the very photons themselves. Without warning, the sphere of light exploded noiselessly into a shower of weightless, glimmering shards. They rained atop the first-years like confetti, ushering them into a new life of heroism.
"Following that excellent demonstration of Quirk prowess, I officially crown you twenty as our newest group of first-year students – referred to as Asagao Class!" Ayumi cheered, auburn eyes glistening with the beginnings of thrilled tears. "You are now dismissed!"
The supernatural light produced by Shinji's Quirk was a mystical sight. Pondering about the head boy's vague abilities, Ochimaru grasped at a sliver of the shining substance, only to have it slip swiftly through his clumsy fingers and melt into the laminated floorboards. After a few more silent seconds, there was no trace that the fleeting lights had ever existed. Shinji was no longer aflame with a faint glow. He must have exhausted his power source. Koushujin's finest example struck a final, practiced pose before sauntering offstage with a whirl of his orange cape. He returned to a cavalcade of squeals and high-fives from his peers.
"The guy's just a glorified nightlight…" Youta sighed. "What's with all those groupies?"
"You didn't strike me as the jealous type," Ochimaru said with a taunting chuckle, joining the crowd of energised students that were spilling out of the assembly hall's double-doors.
"Oh please," Youta grinned, popping the sore joints in his knuckles for the umpteenth time. It couldn't have been healthy. "Overload is way cooler. I'll have my own fans in no time."
Koushujin's head boy had also inspired similar feelings in the other members of the newly-appointed Asagao Class. The pristine courtyard of the sprawling school was alive with renewed conversation as the hero candidates traipsed leisurely back to their new dorms. Ochimaru found it overwhelming to be amongst so many diverse, confident personalities, so he stuck near the back of the considerable group with the more nervous, antisocial students. He didn't want to worry about someone randomly striking up a conversation with him like Daisuke had done earlier. Although, this also placed him dangerously close to the serpent. To try and take his mind off of the unsettling girl, he eavesdropped on a brewing argument.
"Shinji-san's Quirk didn't seem very impressive to me," sneered a boy with thick-rimmed glasses and fluorescent orange hair. Ochimaru noticed a strange, glowing symbol on the palm of his hand as he adjusted his wide spectacles. "Simply being able to manipulate light seems lacklustre in comparison to what some of us here are capable of accomplishing."
"Appearances can be very deceiving," Jun responded calmly in his usual, monotonous tone. "Especially for Emitters like Shinji-san. Perhaps we have only seen a small fraction of his Quirk's true capabilities. Since he is the new head boy, his potential must be exceptional."
"True," the boy conceded. "Even if you saw it in action, I doubt any of you would be able to explain the complex qualities of my Quirk. Emitters have an advantage in that regard."
"In most regards," a girl with fluffy, rabbit-like ears corrected through a set of buckteeth. Her lengthy, thick legs caused her to walk with an astounding spring in her step as she marched across the cobblestone path. "Emitters like you have it way too easy in general."
"Oh?" the boy coaxed snobbishly. "I doubt you'd easily repeat yourself if you knew just how many long hours have went into honing my Quirk. Mutants are born with innate control."
"Why don't you save the big talk for the sparring sessions, Firecrotch?" Shimizu berated, placing a steady hand onto the rabbit-girl's toned shoulder as she looked ready to kick the privileged boy in the throat. "Or have we already forgot Mifune-sensei's tolerance speech?"
"Just keep in mind that most of us Mutants have been through stuff you couldn't imagine," the lagomorphic girl snapped, finally quieting the snide, glasses-wearing student. Ochimaru noticed that Jun nodded his head in subtle agreement, and the serpentine girl even let out a begrudging hiss of acknowledgement. "Be more thankful your Quirk isn't very invasive."
"Well, I know who I'm sparring against first," Youta whispered excitedly. Thankfully, nobody else could hear his words as the atmosphere lightened to something more cheerful. "Even from here, I can already tell that the bunny girl's legs are no joke. A strong kick from her could easily break your arm. I've always admired the physical strength of Mutants!"
"Knock yourself out," Ochimaru scoffed. "I'm staying far away from her during practice."
As the abrasive class finally reached the forested dormitories, they noticed a stocky man wearing a pair of muddied dungarees standing outside the entrance, with a battered shovel slung over his broad shoulders. It had a broken, splintered hilt that indicated the tool had seen years of constant labour. The man certainly didn't look like a teacher, more of a hireling. He wiped at his sweat-laden brow with a callused hand which left a faint, dirty trail in its wake. The man was either brave or foolish to be doing physical labour in such oppressive weather. He straightened his back with a groan once he caught sight of the class.
"Hey kids, I'm just finishin' up some yardwork here," he drawled, stabbing the buckled shovel into the recently-mowed grass beside the building's wooden steps. "I'm Koushujin's groundskeeper, so if y'all find any problems with your dorms, give me a holler, alright?"
"You're the one t-tending to all of these trees and flowers?" Hanako asked innocently, gripping the front of her floppy sunhat and pulling it down to hide her nervous, green face. Her bottom lip trembled pitifully as she spoke. "This place is… very beautiful."
"Thanks kindly, miss," the groundskeeper coughed, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Flecks of earth rained from his wiry, black hair. "Plants and me get along somethin' fierce."
"Are you the one responsible for the dormitory's security?" a meek boy with brown hair and thin-framed glasses asked. Ochimaru remembered him as the one who kept asking questions before the entrance exam. "I know that most other hero schools have advanced gates for keeping villains and the media out, but I haven't seen anything like that at Koushujin."
"Boy, I'm glad you asked!" the man chortled heartily, clasping the frail student on the back with enough strength to almost knock him down to his knees. "My name's Kenta Shingen, and I'm the one in charge of the school's defences. My Quirk creates a barrier around buildings that stops all sorts of nasty people from gettin' inside, so don't you worry!"
"A barrier?" the snooty boy with neon-orange hair repeated, intrigued. "How strong is it?"
"Here, it'll be easier if I show you," Kenta responded, leaving his broken shovel imbedded deep into the ground as he hobbled across the dorm's staircase. Ochimaru couldn't be sure whether it was the stairs or the man's knees that were creaking. "Blink and you'll miss it!"
True to his word, the groundskeeper performed a series of complex hand gestures in rapid succession that looked similar to sign language. After only a couple of seconds, a translucent blanket of turquoise energy emanated from his weathered, clasped hands and began to wash over the ornate dormitory building. Like a firehose, the supernatural rope kept unspooling from the man's hands and wrapping around the perimeter of the house. Soon, the protective helix faded away into nothingness, leaving only a blue, lucent doorway. The oak threshold of the dorm had been covered gently with a mystical sheen, like a portal to a different realm.
"The only people that can enter my barriers are ones that I allow through physical contact," Kenta clarified, taking a moment to catch his frantic breath as he collapsed against the staircase's railing. "Think of it like one o' them fingerprint scanning thingumajigs."
"So, what'd happen if we touched the door without getting your permission?" Youta wondered, already climbing up the stairs to find out for himself. "Would it just stay locked?"
"Woah there, sonny!" Kenta warned, pulling the overconfident student back down the steps by the scruff of his neck. "The barrier would give you a big shock, like an electric fence."
"Awesome!" Youta exclaimed, barely deterred by the threat. Ochimaru knew the boy well enough to understand that the only thing holding him back from testing the barrier was the groundskeeper's powerful grip. "What I wouldn't give to see a paparazzi get zapped…"
"Actually, the reason I'm even here today is to allow you kids to pass through my barriers," Kenta said warmly, breath rasping in his throat. He slowly descended down the rickety steps with a determined Youta still caught in his grasp. "Either a handshake or a high-five will do mighty fine, so if y'all could form a nice line, that'd make my job a whole lot easier!"
So, under the searing gaze of the Kagoshima sun, the next few minutes were spent getting awkwardly authorised by the friendly groundskeeper. Whenever contact was made, the older man's beaten hands would flash with the same blue energy seen earlier in the barrier. Most of the male students chose to give Kenta a casual high-five, whereas the girls opted to give him a more respectful handshake. Takumi looked like he was about to faint at the prospect of having to touch a person covered in so much dirt and sweat. He barely brushed against the groundskeeper's muddied hand with trembling fingers before whipping it back.
When it came to Ochimaru's turn, he decided to try for another nervous handshake in an attempt to redeem himself for the awful one he had given Takumi earlier. Kenta's huge, spade-like hand dwarfed his tiny, smooth fingers and felt exactly like old, tough sandpaper. The groundskeeper shook his entire arm vigorously. Ochimaru worried that it would be torn completely from its socket. Suddenly, an indescribable warmth swept its way across his skin, causing his invisible, blond hair to stand on end and tingle. And then, it was over.
The last person to give a handshake was a girl with beautiful, silver hair and smart glasses. Ochimaru remembered her from the very end of the entrance exam, although her left arm was no longer wrapped in a medical sling. His parents had mentioned something about a girl who had broken her arm, and he wondered if the girl in front of him was that victim. Ochimaru wished to know the events that preceded her injury, but he would likely never get an answer. Youta almost sustained serious damage in the sudden fall from the pedestal, so it must have been a similar situation. While giving Kenta an adept handshake with her restored arm, she stared at the broken shovel laying at his feet with a serious expression.
"Shingen-sensei, I can't help but notice that your shovel has definitely seen better days…" she began, with a cultured, foreign accent that Ochimaru couldn't identify. The girl looked to be Japanese, however her regal voice lacked most of the instinctive Japanese intonation, as if she had lived abroad for most of her life. "My Quirk can restore damaged objects to their perfect, original state, so would you mind if I tried to fix it? It'll look good as new."
"Please miss, you can drop the 'sensei' - I'm just the groundskeeper!" Kenta laughed, his humble words bringing a smile to the faces of most students still watching. His unrefined nature was strangely endearing, like a scruffy, stray dog who still managed to retain their cuteness. "And go ahead! I've been meaning to replace that danged thing for a while, so you'd be savin' me some yen by givin' it a good ol' renovation!"
Wordlessly, the silver-haired girl kneeled beside the dilapidated shovel and wrapped her thin hands around the splintered handle. After closing her icy-blue eyes and exhaling deeply, the broken shovel was basked in a wavering, golden sheen. Slowly, the harsh dents on the shovel's spade popped back into place with a metallic clank. A layer of caked dirt slipped from the handle and dispersed into the grass as the shovel vibrated softly. Amazingly, splits in the wooden hilt were filled in with fresh lumber that seemingly came out of nowhere until all of the dangerous cracks were sealed. Scuffs on the plastic tip of the handle were smoothed out until the material was gleaming and spotless. Before long, the tool had been completely transformed. Like the girl had said, it was as good as new.
"Well, would you look at that!" Kenta cried in disbelief, taking the restored shovel into his strong, dirty hands as the girl stood up again, dusting off her grey leggings pridefully. "Miss, you could put me out of a job with that Quirk! There'll be nothin' left for me to fix!"
"The handle might not be as sturdy as before," the girl admitted. "Since I can't restore pieces of wood that were missing entirely, I had to shave some away from further down."
"Still, it's amazing for only a few seconds o' work!" Kenta laughed, bending the new shovel over his knee to test its current strength. "Thanks much! Can I have your name, miss?"
"Sakane," the girl bowed stiffly. The gesture seemed less practiced and natural than most Ochimaru had seen. The girl likely hadn't been in Japan for very long. "Naoko Sakane."
"You'll fit right in here at Koushujin," Kenta encouraged. "Speakin' o' that, I delivered all your school uniforms and timetables earlier. They're sittin' on the living room table."
"So, you actually do a lot more than just looking after the school, right?" Youta questioned, face grim at the realisation he'd have to wear the garish uniform soon.
"Nah, I just take care o' all the borin' stuff that the other teachers don't wanna waste their time with… no disrespect intended!" Kenta laughed through a hoarse cough. "I gotta renew all the barriers each and every mornin', so we'll get tired of seein' each other soon enough."
"It was nice meeting you, Kenta-san!" Kou beamed, tugging at Rei's lime-green sleeve as the two were the first to pass through the dorm's new, mystical threshold. "Have a good day!"
"Best o' luck with your first hero lesson tomorrow," Kenta replied with a wave. "Koushujin is the very best hero school in my humble opinion, so I hope y'all enjoy your time here."
Everyone muttered their thanks and goodbyes as they ascended the wooden steps one after another, phasing through the translucent barrier as if it didn't even exist. It certainly quelled Ochimaru's worry of safety in the dormitory, since any intruder would be blasted with electricity if they even prodded the light-blue shield. Even though hero schools were one of the most protected areas in the world and bastions of heroism, that very fact made them irresistible to villains. There wasn't a better way to instil fear in the public than successfully launching an attack on a hero institute, but with Kenta's barrier, the students never had to worry about such an awful event. His parents would be happy to hear that.
As Ochimaru passed through the barrier, he couldn't help but feel a poignant excitement settle in his chest. Waiting for him inside was his school uniform and timetable that would dictate his routine for the next year. Along with the rest of Asagao Class, he had been crowned as a unique hero candidate, with the potential for future success and great fame. The nineteen other students nonchalantly entering the dorm and removing their shoes amidst chatter would be his allies, rivals, friends and enemies for the next three years.
The first of which would all start to reveal themselves in tomorrow's eventful hero lesson.