A Little Girl's Hero Academy

by Mark the Mark

Tanya's third life, and third try for peaceful retirement. Being X doesn't seem to be around, so why not try for the best general education course in Japan? Why is she taking the Hero course exam? Why can't she transfer out? What even is going on with her life? Being X!

AN: Rewrites are a pain, If I have any errors in these next few chapters, just let me know on discord and I'll come and fix them.

Also ICURA said he was honored *heart*

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Chapter 0: A Young Girl's Starting Line

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Orphan Child

The suffocating darkness pressed in around me like a vice. I struggled for breath, panic clawing at my chest as I fell through the void. Then, in an instant, the weight lifted, and cool air filled my lungs. A blinding light assaulted my eyes, forcing them shut.

My senses began piecing themselves together, bringing me back to reality. I opened my eyes before shutting them again; the brightness was blinding.

"Is she okay?" the woman asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Your baby is perfectly fine," another voice replied, calm and steady. "Congratulations, it's a girl," said the voice, full of reassurance.

"Hello, Tanya," the woman, my mother I deduced, whispered.

"Ughh," I managed to croak, the tightness of my throat refusing to let up.

"Such a strong little girl," she cooed. I felt the gravity shift as soft hands wrapped around me. "You're going to do great things. I just know it."

I fluttered my eyes open, straining against the light. My mind was already racing and processing my surroundings. I was held tightly against the woman's chest. In that brief moment, before I could even fully understand what was happening, I absorbed every detail of her face: long strands of golden hair cascading down to her shoulders, piercing pale gray eyes that seemed to hold a universe of emotion, and a delicate, rose-tinted complexion that highlighted her German heritage.

All was calm for a moment, before I heard it. An explosion rocked the building and the world around me erupted into flames and destruction. The force sent me flying out of her grasp. My body tumbled and writhed as tears streamed from my eyes.

As my body careening towards the unforgiving floor or wall, I was suddenly caught in strong, furry arms. The figure that held me was a strange mix of human and animal — a towering being with the body of a bear but the unmistakable features of a human: two intelligent eyes, a wide nose, and a mouth filled with sharp teeth. My heart raced as I realized I was being held by a humanoid... bear?

Demons, people with horns, tails… were those hoses for arms…?

I was rushed around what I could barely recognize as a hospital with burning walls and flooded rooms. My vision blurred as white, soft fur enveloped me, and the scent of musk and warmth overwhelmed my senses. Despite my initial terror, my body succumbed to the cozy embrace, and I drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

As I regained consciousness, I noticed my surroundings were a stark white room, devoid of any warmth or comfort. The distant echoes of smoke and fires reminded me that I was far from the safety of wherever I had been brought to. Time passed in a blur as I was shuffled between various beings — humans, creatures, and fully functional autonomous robots. Their faces flashed by in a blur, leaving little impression on me.

But amidst the chaos and confusion, my mind fixated on one thing: my mother. Images of her blonde hair cascading down her back and her pale gray eyes filled my thoughts before she was engulfed by an explosion.

I couldn't help remembering that liar saying there will be no second reincarnation before everything went black.

Despite its power, Being X was nothing more than a pompous tyrant, who was too easily frustrated and arrogant for its own good. It held no significance in my eyes. If it truly possessed all-knowing powers, it would have seen the futility of reincarnating me again. Furthermore, if it truly had all-powerful abilities, it wouldn't waste time and resources satisfying its own ego. In reality, Being X would have been fired within a month at any agency with its track record. Since it seemed to be self-employed, it only proved that even its business model was a failure. In the end, none of it mattered. My faith would not be swayed by the whims and manipulations of Being X — or anyone, or anything else for that matter. That fact had not changed during my time in the Imperial military as a mage, and it would not change now. No matter how strange this new world was.

It seemed that orphanages were a staple in Being X's repertoire — a recurring theme that made me wish he had hired professional advisors to guide his twisted plans. Alas, he remained stubbornly predictable in his repetitive tactics. After all, the monster was insane, so it followed that it would try the same thing over and over, expecting different results..

In my infant years were a swirling, undifferentiated mass of thoughts and sensations. Alongside the constant pangs of hunger and fatigue, helplessness and confusion overwhelmed me as I struggled to understand this new world I had been thrust into.

Being alive gladdened me; however…. even amidst the chaos of my surroundings, one thing was clear - this was a world filled with never-ending battles. As if the violence and destruction caused by humans wasn't enough, there were also other species thrown into the mix.

The idea that diverse beings could just live in harmony was so laughable in this world as to be seen as the naive dream of a hopeless idealist.

Perhaps I should have just expected this, given Being X's twisted idea of escalation. If there were ever to be a fourth life for me, I would imagine it would probably be in a post-apocalyptic wasteland ruled by nuclear fallout and alien invaders. As always, I would probably be trapped as a helpless child, forced to scavenge for survival among mutants and zombies. No, peace was never an option in this game.

Regardless of my constant curses towards Being X, he never appeared before me during those crucial formative years, despite the overwhelming circumstances, I persisted in my upbringing at the overcrowded orphanage. Surrounded by an endless chorus of wailing children, I longed for change and a way out. It wasn't until two years had passed that my boredom urged me to display my intelligence, hoping it would catch the attention of someone who would offer me a chance at something more. After much persuasion, they finally allowed me to read some early childhood language books.

To my early delight, I found that many of the words on the pages were familiar, as this world or country uses a variation of Japanese. However, that feeling quickly turned to terror as I realized that the meanings attached to these familiar symbols were all wrong. At some point in history, the three different writing systems had merged into a single written language. The most glaring aberration of this world's language stared back at me next to a cartoon cat — labeled as a dog. My heart sank as I realized I would have to relearn yet another language.

I chose to leave behind everything I knew about Japanese kanji and treat this world's language as its own unique entity. It was a necessary step, considering how Being Xwa would try to hinder me with misleading information. Thankfully, I avoided making any embarrassing mistakes like writing "I see dead people" when what I really meant was "I love you, caretaker". The consequences of such an error could have landed me in a psychiatric institution.

As time passed, I became increasingly curious about this unfamiliar world I found myself in. The older orphans would bring home history books, and I would sneak glances at them whenever possible. Despite my limited understanding of the written language, I slowly but surely began to decipher certain words and piece together the general idea of what I was reading.

The older kids found it amusing when a two-year-old like me "pretended" to read.

Through my makeshift research, one truth became painfully clear for the third time: all men are not created equal. In the world, your social value was determined by the family you were born into and the opportunities they provided for your education and advancement. For those who were not born into privilege, like myself, it meant working twice as hard to achieve the same level of success as those who were fortunate enough to be born into affluence.

Here in this world, that concept of inherited status was taken to an extreme. A skewed game of chance that favors incumbents while leaving new entrants with little chance for success. More than half of the population possesses extraordinary abilities known as "quirks," while the rest are deemed relatively worthless by comparison. To make matters worse, being "normal" was not celebrated but rather seen as a disadvantage. How different this world was from the one I knew before...

Two centuries ago, in the bustling streets of China, a baby was born with an extraordinary gift. His skin glowed with an ethereal light, drawing stares and whispers from those around him. At first, the child was quarantined out of fear and suspicion until it was discovered that he possessed an extra organ that emitted bioluminescence.

As months passed, more and more children in China began to display these supernatural abilities. The nation, fearing the unknown and unable to control the Divergences, as they were called, locked itself down in a desperate attempt to contain them. Their efforts proved futile as reports from other countries surfaced of individuals with similar powers.

The world was thrown into chaos as governments struggled to understand and control this new threat. In America, the first violent display of power came from a man who would become known only as the "Five States Maniac." Though his real name would ultimately be lost to history, he sparked a wave of fear and persecution against Divergences globally.

Despite efforts from some to harness and study these powers for the greater good, the majority of society viewed them as a curse. Fear and prejudice spread like wildfire. Paranoia and hysteria took root everywhere. Divergences, those with unique abilities, were hunted and persecuted, forced into hiding. Government measures grew harsher by the day, fueling rebellion among the oppressed. Violent clashes and protests erupted. Communities and families were torn apart, pushing the world to the brink of civil war.

In the midst of this chaos, a beacon of hope emerged from the scientific community. Researchers made a groundbreaking discovery: the "Plus Alpha" gene responsible for these extraordinary abilities. This revelation was a game-changer. Divergences were not abominations but rather the next step in human evolution. Optimism began to spread among those who longed for harmony. Scientists worked around the clock to unlock the secrets of the Plus Alpha gene, hinting at a future where peaceful coexistence between Divergences and Non-Divergences might be possible.

However, before any significant progress could be made, society was rocked by another wave of violence and terror. Copycats of the infamous Five States Maniac emerged, replicating his destructive actions and spreading fear. These imitators thrived in the fragile state of society, causing widespread havoc and destabilizing governments. Corruption and incompetence within the authorities became glaringly obvious as they struggled to contain the chaos. Vigilantes began to rise, taking matters into their own hands. Their brutal and often indiscriminate methods only added to the anarchy. The world seemed to spiral further into violence with no end in sight.

In the midst of this turmoil, a new hope arose in Japan. A group of determined individuals recognized the failure of traditional governance and established a self-governing system known as "Heroics." These modern-day Heroes, endowed with various abilities, committed themselves to using their powers for the greater good. Tirelessly, they worked to restore order and bring balance to a world teetering on the edge of collapse. Their efforts not only stabilized Japan but also inspired hope and admiration across the globe. Their success proved that with the right leadership and unity, peaceful coexistence between Divergences and Non-Divergences was achievable. The Heroics' actions set a new precedent, encouraging other nations to reconsider their stance on those with the Plus Alpha gene and fostering a new era of potential collaboration and understanding.

To maintain order and control in society, all citizens were required to register their unique abilities, known as "quirks," in the government database. This not only helped minimize illegal usage but also aided law enforcement in locating those who broke the law. Vigilantism was strictly prohibited and considered a serious crime, as untrained individuals often caused more harm than good with their reckless actions.

Being X, as he seems to love the number three, categorized quirks into three distinct groups: emitter, transformation, and mutation. Emitter quirks allowed an individual to create or manipulate elements such as fire, ice, and water. Transformation quirks granted the power to alter one's body in various ways, such as changing size or shape or even turning into an animal. Mutation quirks involved gaining additional physical features which might also have extra quirk effects.

Despite the ubiquity of heroes and villains in this world, life had settled into a routine for me as a five-year-old girl. My intelligence was evident to everyone, but there wasn't much I could do at this age. I spent my days assisting the caretakers with tasks around the orphanage and the older children with presenting themselves to potential adoptive families. I longed to explore beyond the walls of the orphanage, but the staff forbade it. Instead I used the computer the children had to share to provide me with endless information at my fingertips.

Compared to my previous life of constant danger and war on the front lines, this bizarre world of superheroes and villains provided me with a surprising sense of normality, which was a welcome break. It almost felt like I had achieved my goal of a safe retirement – except for the highly publicized "super villain" fights that occurred once a month. Despite this, there was a sense of peace and contentment in this new life – something I had been missing for a long time. It was...nice.

The days of hiding behind the meticulously crafted façade of Degurechaff were long gone. No longer did I have to watch from behind the mask as I commanded my troops in battle, feeling the fury simmering just beneath the surface as I was forced to pray to that cursed being.

Now, I allowed myself to fully immerse in the peacefulness of my current life. It had been years since Being X had dared to meddle in my affairs, causing me to wonder if this reincarnation was simply a coincidence or if I had somehow outwitted that smug self-proclaimed god. The weight of past lives and grudges lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of freedom and contentment. As I looked towards the future with newfound hope and determination, I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises awaited me.

Sadly, today I woke up with a piercing headache, and the pain just brought back all those memories I was attempting to run from.

A cacophony of echoes and reverberations plagued my mind as I sought refuge in the dimly lit corner of the orphanage's playroom. The vibrations of the world around echoed loudly in my head. Shoes on the ground, echoing like cannon fire, The static of electronics sounding more like torrential rain. The weight of my previous life's memories bore down on me like a crushing force — the horrors of war still fresh in my young mind.

"Must block it out," I whispered to myself, desperately trying to silence the heartbeats of those around me. I curled up into a tight ball, hands clamped over my ears, and began to meditate. My breathing slowed, and, for a moment, the sounds faded away, replaced by an eerie quietness.

"Hey, Tanya, what are you doing all alone here?" Okuma's voice shattered my fragile peace. She approached me with a gentle smile and her eyes filled with concern.

"Nothing, Okuma. Just... thinking." I hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth about my internal struggles.

"Come, join the other children. They're playing games in the yard." The older woman held out her hand, urging me to take it.

"Can't," I muttered, still fighting to suppress the relentless echoes and sounds that threatened to consume me. "Too noisy."

The Old Lady let out a weary sigh, but she didn't press any further. She plopped down beside me and gave me a half-hearted pat on the back. "Look, Tanya, I get that life sucks sometimes, but hiding from it won't do you any favors."

"Yeah, easy for you to say," I grumbled, feeling the weight of my frustration.

"Hey, I've been around the block a few times," she said, trying to sound wise. "Avoiding your problems only makes them stick around longer. Trust me on this."

"Trust you?" I scoffed, feeling annoyed. "What do you know?"

"Enough," she replied vaguely, her advice lacking any real substance. "Just deal with it and move on, kiddo."

"Right," I muttered, not really buying it. "Thanks."

"Alright." She patted my shoulder gently. "Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you. You're like a granddaughter to me, Tanya. I just want you to be happy."

I looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of deceit or insincerity, but there was none. There was only genuine concern and love. At least she means well despite her terrible advice.

"Thank you, Mrs. Okuma," I whispered, feeling a glimmer of warmth in the cold depths of my heart. "Maybe... maybe I'll try joining the others later."

"Good," she smiled, giving me a quick hug before standing up. "Just remember, Tanya, that no matter how dark your past, there's always light waiting for you in the future."

As she walked away, I stared at her back. Okuma's sincerity echoed in my mind, and for the first time in my new life, I felt a flicker of hope that perhaps I could find a way to move forward after all. Maybe even achieve the peaceful life I so desperately craved.

I earned this life. This curse bestowed to me by Being X won't take it away!

I spent the rest of the day attempting to play with the other children with at least some marginal success.

The next day I woke up once again with my head feeling like it was splitting open and was unsuccessful in getting the younger caretaker Mita to take me out on a shopping trip. Because of that, I sought the solace of my shared bedroom, managing to squeeze a few more hours of rest until my peaceful slumber was abruptly shattered by a deafening crash and an intense argument erupting just a few feet away. The constant chaos caused by the children's unique abilities often disrupted my life. If only I could find a way to convince them to channel their quirks for good instead of adding to my already mounting stress.

"Stop fighting, you two! The Caretaker will be back soon, and she won't want to see the walls destro- Stop fighting."

Two older kids once again utilized their quirks to bicker over some imagined slight. Despite my attempts to intervene, they ignored me as usual and continued their battle. Today was going to be different. I couldn't handle the noise any longer. My head pounded with a splitting headache and everything seemed to be vibrating around me. And to add insult to injury, one of the boys had previously tattled on me for stealing a mug of coffee earlier in the day...

I sat there gritting my teeth together. I was helplessly watching the boy with crab claws try to attack and pinch the seagull-headed mutant in response to its sharp beak pecking at him. Meanwhile, the other children gathered around in a circle, either cheering on their favorite or simply ignoring the destruction of the room by staying safe on their bunk beds. "If you want them to stop so badly, Tanya-chan, why don't you just stop them yourself?" taunted the eldest child, whom the Caretaker had put in charge, from behind me. "Just keep your voices down, I'm busy." Busy doing nothing but texting on your phone; honestly, how did you even afford one?

Fine, I thought bitterly. If I rough them up too badly, I'll just say it was because you instructed me to do so. Maybe a reprimand from the CEO will finally force you to do your job properly next time.

I lunged forward, my hand grabbing onto the shoulder of the Seagull Boy - Musaro - with a firm grip. With an angry shout and all the strength I could muster, I swung my fist towards his head, making vicious contact. Somehow I sent him flying in the opposite direction. The collision against the wall was jarring, but the loud sounds erupting around me only added to the rage that fueled the pain in my throbbing head.

He crumpled to the ground, blood pooling down his nose, as I stood there, feeling numb. My hand was now coated in saliva, I could feel the wetness falling off my arm slowly.

A wave of disgust washed over me as I attempted to wipe my hand on my shirt. But to my horror, I couldn't feel my arm respond. I looked down onto to finally register the-

ᵖrͣeͥᶰd.

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Nedzu, Principal of U.A.

The concept of evil is subjective and can be interpreted differently by different individuals. Some may define it as the intentional act of causing harm to others while others may see it as a mere means of stopping someone from committing harmful actions. However, those who believe in objective morality reject this idea and instead hold onto the belief that there are universal standards of good and evil, independent of personal judgment. They see these standards as fixed and unchanging, not influenced by individual perspectives or circumstances.

Miracle at Kamino Hospital

Seventy-five were injured, but there were no deaths.

With a heavy exhale, I reread the report in front of me. The words on the page seemed to taunt me, challenging my beliefs and morals. Objectively, there was no such thing as evil, but then how could one explain the actions described here? Blowing up a hospital, lying to the public about accurate statistics. These were not acts of goodness. In his eyes, perhaps they held some twisted justification. In mine, they were undeniably wrong. As I continued reading and processing the information, I couldn't help but wonder if these actions were done for the greater good... or for something else entirely.

The newspaper report in front of me morphed as my mind recalled the truth of that day.

The Kamino Hospital Massacre

It was a scene of unimaginable horror. The once sterile and peaceful hospital was now a bloody battleground, littered with the bodies of innocent victims. Forty infants lay lifeless, their tiny hands still grasping at the air. Seventy-six children, who had come to the hospital for routine check-ups or minor ailments, were ruthlessly cut down. Fifteen teenagers, full of dreams and aspirations, now lay in comas from which they may never awaken. Lastly, eighty-five patients on life support were cruelly murdered when the power to the building suddenly cut out.

The villain responsible for this senseless act of violence had eluded captur-

The piercing whistle of the teapot reverberated through the kitchen, pulling my attention away from my thoughts. It was moments like these that made me think about the long and bloody history of humanity, filled with constant conflict and violence over even the smallest grievances. As I stirred my tea, my mind once again wondered if all of my manipulations and plans were truly worth it in the end.

It had been years since we had successfully put down what was once the most formidable threat to society, but as soon as one villain was defeated, another inevitably rose up to fill the void. The carefully orchestrated downfall of All for One had left a vacuum that various groups rushed to claim. It was true what they say: nature does indeed abhor a vacuum.

In the aftermath of All For One's Downfall, the yakuza aggressively consolidated control over a significant swath of the lucrative drug trade. Their grip tightened as they fiercely defended their only remaining bastion of influence in the Japanese underworld. The radicals who had once flocked to All for One's cause now scattered into their own fringe groups. Even the government was forced to make changes without the looming presence of All for One – namely, finally acknowledging and dealing with their own assassin who had been hiding in plain sight.

But these were only local elements. Foreign forces that I didn't have much knowledge of also made moves into our criminal underworld. The German mob had been especially vicious in their attempts to establish a foothold on our island, closely followed by Russian cartels seeking to expand their territory.

Yes, I knew about all of these power shifts and machinations. It was my job as a mastermind to stay informed and stay ahead of the game. However, even with all my knowledge and foresight, I knew that I was not omnipotent and could not predict every outcome. Still, my knowledge remained my most powerful tool in shaping and guiding society towards my ultimate vision, so I pressed on with my plans.

When I became a hero, it was not out of noble intentions but out of a burning desire for revenge against my captors. In my arrogance and pride, I let my schemes and cleverness get the best of me. My hubris led me to believe that I held all the cards, that I was superior to mere humans. In reality, I was just as vulnerable and easily manipulated as they were.

I keep a framed report from five years ago on my desk as a constant reminder of my mistakes. It serves as a humbling symbol of my downfall.

Now, I have relinquished my role as master manipulator and turned towards the future with determination. There are undoubtedly more selfless and pure-hearted heroes out there, and I am determined to make up for my past failures. As I take a moment to sip my tea, I push away thoughts of the pleading golden eyes that haunt me from beyond the glass.

Yes, I may have made grave errors in the past, but I know that I can make amends. All it takes is time and dedication to become a hero that this world truly needs.

---

Mita Mano, the Former Sidekick 'Joyful Fist'

How did my life lead me here?

Once, I had been a mere secretary at the Purple Revolution Agency. I was more than just an administrative assistant — I also served as a sidekick to the agency's heroes. With a degree in business under my belt. I had taken the hero provisional license exam, hoping to use my unique quirk for self-defense. To my surprise, His Purple Highness himself took notice of my abilities and offered me a prestigious position within the agency.

Although I hadn't been accepted into the Hero course during high school, I wholeheartedly embraced my new role with unwavering enthusiasm and dedication. Each day brimmed with exhilarating missions and rigorous training sessions. Surrounded by my fellow heroes, I felt like a fish in water, effortlessly navigating the challenges and triumphs of our shared journey.

A deep sigh escaped my lips as I reflected on the events that had led me to this point. My once formidable quirk, Joy, had proved inadequate when faced with a string of bad days. When our leader and mentor, His Purple Highness, was hospitalized, the rest of us sidekicks were forced to step up and fill his spot. Even with my best efforts, I couldn't seem to muster up enough happiness to effectively use my quirk during the chaos and destruction of the Kamino Hospital disaster. The constant barrage of explosions from the attacking villains left me drained and unable to focus. In the end, it cost me dearly.

A costly medical procedure saved my life but at the expense of my career. No longer able to run or even walk without struggling, I was given a cane by my agency. I had thrown it away.

Once considered an attractive and promising Up-and-Coming Pro Hero (Forever Sidekick, my a-), I was quickly laid off after the incident. It was a stroke of luck that I had not been killed, but there was little else I could do to avoid being let go from the agency. With limited resources, they simply couldn't afford to keep non-functioning heroes on their roster; everyone needed to be able to contribute out in the field.

Despite my best efforts and the favors I had accumulated during my short career, I found myself unable to secure a job at any of the prestigious hero agencies in the city. Faced with limited opportunities due to my physical defect, I begrudgingly started considering lower-paying jobs in order to make ends meet. The thought of being confined to a mundane office job was unbearable. My time in the hero industry had instilled in me a burning desire to help others.

The problem was that smaller and less affluent agencies couldn't afford my services while larger and wealthier ones saw my disability as a liability. Their cutthroat competition left no room for someone like me, who was without a higher education or a flashy quirk. Despite what the HPSC (Hero Public Safety Commission) claimed, experience and a high school diploma could only take me so far in this line of work. My hero license felt like nothing more than a worthless piece of plastic.

As days turned into weeks, I found myself trapped in an endless cycle of attending job interviews and returning to my small apartment. Growing more desperate by the day. All I wanted was to find a job that would keep me at least somewhat connected to the hero industry.

Then one day, I stumbled upon a job posting that caught my eye. It wasn't exactly what I had been looking for, but the pay was decent enough. An orphanage funded by the HPSC was seeking another caretaker, preferably someone with experience raising children who could also serve as a quirk trainer for the kids. The idea of looking after a group of little ones seemed daunting at first, but I knew I could handle it. After all, I had spent years babysitting my younger siblings and had learned enough about quirk training from my high school teachers. It may not have been the glamorous hero job I had always dreamed of, but it was a start.

Nestled on the outskirts of the bustling city, the location of the orphanage was secluded and peaceful. As I stepped onto the grounds, a sense of purpose washed over me. Helping orphans fulfilled a longing within me, a constant itch that I couldn't ignore.

I convinced myself that this would be a temporary stop, just until I got back on my feet. Little did I know, life had other plans for me.

The orphanage welcomed me with open arms, grateful for any help they could get after the recent disasters at Kamino and bombings at the Naruhata wards. With my knowledge of quirks and experience managing crowds as a former hero, I was quickly hired and even given a caretaking license without much hassle.

It felt almost too good to be true, but I didn't question my good fortune.

And the pay… It was more than I could have ever hoped for. Clearly, the job listing hadn't been updated in quite some time. For me, it was like a dream come true. No more endless hours chasing villains and dealing with societal scum; instead, I spent my days cooking and caring for children with unique quirks. Of course, there were challenging moments, like changing diapers and calming tantrums, but I adapted quickly.

But then came Tanya.

On paper, she seemed like any other baby, but as soon as I laid eyes on her, something felt off. She communicated too perfectly for her age, only cried when she needed something, and her gestures and facial expressions were too precise... almost practiced. It was as if she had a deep understanding of everything around her. During my brief caretaking course, I had heard about quirked babies, so I brushed it off. What I couldn't brush off were her blank stares when left alone for too long. It was as if her soul had left her body. Most disturbingly of all, the piercing gaze she gave me was shockingly reminiscent of older Heroes sizing up new sidekicks or Villains like Queen Bee searching for a new pawn. It made my skin crawl.

Was there a strange, inexplicable force at play here? Was her intellect some kind of uncontrollable mind control that went undocumented? It seemed possible, especially considering the number of children in this orphanage who had been through traumatic encounters with villains. I couldn't just stand by and do nothing if that was the case. So, I called in some favors with the Purple Revolution Agency. Late at night, while the children were all asleep, I had my former intern (who changed his name every few days but was currently going by something-head, Mophead?) come and use his quirk to nullify whatever was affecting them.

He grumbled and called me irrational for the whole situation before heading out on patrol, but I simply waved it off and insisted he visit more often. As he left, still muttering nonsense like his quirk doesn't even work that way or I was wasting his time, I couldn't help but smile. At least he was starting to move on from what happened before.

The next day, when I picked up Tanya, I realized that Mophead may have been right. The baby still had the same bored expression on her face that seemed to crush my own soul. Just looking at her made me feel...something. My boss, Okuma Yuki, who was also the head caretaker at the orphanage, would often tell me things like, "You should appreciate the quieter ones. As they get older, the louder children start imitating them, and we can finally get a full night's rest!"

Well, if she wasn't worried about Tanya's boredom, maybe I shouldn't be either...but something about it still nagged at me.

Despite weeks of trying to calm my racing thoughts and think rationally, I couldn't shake the stories I had heard about children who grew up without the ability to feel emotions or express them in a healthy way. The thought of Tanya becoming a villain consumed me, and I became convinced that she was destined for a dark path.

Even though she appeared calm and placid now, I couldn't shake the fear that one day, the villain within her would awaken, and she would wreak havoc on everyone around her. So, I took precautions. Whenever possible, I used my quirk to keep the children under some semblance of control. Lifting up large furniture with one hand and messing with the kids by spinning the sofa while they sat on it, among other things.

I made sure to talk with each child individually, hoping they would warn me at the first sign of anything 'weird' going on with Tanya. My colleague Okuma warned me about the message I was sending to the children about quirk use, but I brushed it off. To me, it was a necessary measure to prevent any potential harm.

After months of no incidents, I started to believe that Mophead might have been right all along. I still couldn't let go of my fears. I continued to live in a constant state of anxiety, swinging between moments of calm and sudden bursts of panic. During this time, Tanya's behavior began to change for the better. She started mimicking the other children in our care — attempting their yoga exercises and even trying to speak during my quirk training sessions. What surprised me most was when she gestured towards the computer, indicating that she wanted to use it. Was little Tanya interested in surfing the web? As soon as she managed to say her first words — "Mama's strong", it was like a dam had burst.

As I watched Tanya play with the other children in our orphanage, my heart was conflicted. She was a bright and curious child who radiated innocence and wonder. As she grew older, her questions became more probing and observant. I noticed her discreetly studying every adult and child who entered our home, murmuring their names to herself as if committing them to memory. It was both endearing and unsettling, knowing that she was trying to understand and make sense of the world around her.

As the young girl, Tanya muttered under her breath about the ridiculousness of a hero named "Death Arms". I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Despite her previous displays of psychopathic tendencies, in that moment, she seemed like any other child. I also noticed a change in her demeanor. She was no longer disinterested and instead showed a growing curiosity for everything around her. Gone were my fears of raising a future supervillain — now I saw potential for a top-ten hero. And so, I eagerly taught her everything she wanted to know, watching her soak up every scrap of knowledge I told her.

After speaking with Okuma, we both came to the same conclusion — Tanya's growth was something to be documented and shared with the HPSC. I wasn't completely sure of the details of their arrangement, but it seemed like a logical step to secure more resources for Tanya when her quirk inevitably emerged.

From that point on, my approach was to let the girl be and offer encouragement whenever possible. It was an unfamiliar sensation, to teach and guide an infant, almost a toddler, in this way. Most people would consider it unconventional. Regardless, Tanya displayed an insatiable thirst for knowledge and learning, far surpassing any interest in typical childhood games. She spent her waking hours observing and imitating the adults in the house like a miniature version of us.

I couldn't bring myself to restrict her computer time or force her to play outside with other children. Despite her young age, Tanya exuded intelligence and energy whenever she sat at the computer, which was a stark contrast from just months ago when she seemed dull and disengaged.

Raising a child like Tanya was a new experience for me. In fact, I had never raised a child before coming here, but seeing her potential and drive, I decided to leave things as they were. A well-behaved and heroic child was far preferable to a villainess seeking bloodshed.

The other children were a handful for me, constantly buzzing with energy and age-appropriate curiosity. I would often have to call for Okuma to use her quirk "Time out" on the children to get them to stop running around and go to sleep. But Tanya was different. She was always eager to help, often taking on household chores without being asked. It was endearing to see her struggling to read and getting frustrated when she mispronounced a word, blaming her imaginary friend, Ex. Despite her young age, Tanya showed immense intelligence and potential, reminding me of my own youth when I looked up to the Pro Heroes and dreamed of becoming one myself.

As for Okuma, my boss, she had been making frequent trips to city hall lately due to the increase in Villain attacks following the takedown of a notorious Villain organization. I couldn't exactly remember the name. Villain Union? Industry? It didn't matter. What mattered was Okuma's efforts to push for more patrols on the outskirts of town. Hopefully, her petitions would be approved, bringing a sense of safety to the community.

I knew firsthand just how rare violent quirk awakenings were. In fact, it was so rare that no one really thought about it. Only one in every twenty thousand individuals with quirks caused harm to others when activating them, and even then, their body had an innate resistance to their own powers.

So Tanya's rather violent quirk awakening shocked everyone at the orphanage.

As I prepared to leave for the market that day, Tanya approached me with a determined look on her small face. Despite being only five years old, she possessed a genius intellect beyond her years — one that I was sure would be her unique quirk.

Her path to greatness would not be without obstacles. While her potential for brilliance was evident, it was unlikely that her quirk would lead her to become a flashy, spotlight hero. Nevertheless, if The Principal could navigate such challenges, surely Tanya could too. Besides, let's admit it, she was far more adorable than him anyway.

With her intelligence and mature demeanor, Tanya was still just a little girl in size and stature. Today, she insisted on accompanying me to the market to assist with selecting groceries. I gently declined her offer, reminding her of the headache she had and how the bustling atmosphere of the market would only exacerbate it. Earlier, she had complained of double vision, and I couldn't help but marvel at her resilience in managing to move about with such a feverish face.

I suggested she socialize with the other children instead if she felt up to moving around. It was an issue I often had to remind Tanya of. Her desire to always be helpful and put her genius mind to use often isolated her from her peers. While physically present during meals and study times, emotionally she seemed distant and detached. As someone who wanted to become a hero someday, it was important for her to learn how to connect with others on all levels — not just intellectually.

As I returned to the quiet abode after a few hours, my senses were immediately flooded with a sense of unease. I called out for anyone, but only silence greeted me in return. My training as a former (almost) pro hero kicked in as I quickly searched through each room, heart pounding in my chest. Eventually, I found the children huddled together in various stages of distress in the living rooms. Their eyes widened when they saw me, some jumping up and screaming things like "It wasn't me!" or "Is she okay?"

After calming them down and assuring them that everything would be alright, I turned to the teenager left in charge — Shibata. Extracting the whole story was like pulling teeth, but years of experience in handling intense situations helped me get the information I needed. Shibata explained that Tanya had manifested her quirk during a fight, causing her arm to explode. They had rushed her to the hospital along with a few other children who had suffered from bleeding ears due to Tanya's screams. The police had arrived with an ambulance and had taken Okuma with them when she returned while I was out.

Determined to confirm if she was talking about Tanya, I pressed further. It seemed that this was her first real fight and she didn't have an intelligence quirk. To confirm the story Shibata led me to the room that still bore traces of Tanya's blood on the floor.

That night, I learned from the doctors at the hospital that Tanya had been sedated due to her intense pain and tendency to break things whenever she woke up. She had undergone surgery to save her arm, which involved realigning her broken bones before they could heal incorrectly. While there was hope for full recovery, there would likely be scarring. The most shocking discovery came during the surgery when a doctor's quirk revealed a second set of vocal cords in Tanya's throat and an extra organ connecting them to her voice box. The extent of her quirk capabilities had been unknown, and it was clear that she would need to learn how to control it.

A numbing agent coated her throat, gently easing the ache as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Each time she woke, panic seemed to flood her body at the inability to make a sound. But with calm reassurance and simple explanations, her young mind eventually understood what was happening. It was a waiting game until a trainer became available, and Tanya's frustration and sadness were palpable each time she drifted off to sleep again. The light that seemed to emanate from her throat was a very faint gold.

I made sure to always be there for her when she woke up, providing comfort and support. Okuma assisted me in those moments, using her quirk to put Tanya back to sleep when she refused to calm down. Finally, after much grumbling and negotiations, Okuma managed to secure help from a HPSC branch specifically dedicated to children with powerful and challenging quirks.

A trainer was assigned to Tanya's case, and after just one week of intensive sessions in a soundproof room, her control over her quirk began to improve drastically. The need for nullifiers gradually faded away as Tanya's determination and mastery over her vocal cords grew stronger each day. A sense of relief and pride washed over us all as we witnessed Tanya's progress towards controlling her quirk.

Her second vocal cords granted her a remarkably extensive range, far beyond what any normal person could achieve with their own voice. She claimed to also be able to see sound waves; however, further testing showed that it was unreliable. Was it only certain frequencies? Pitches? It was beyond my understanding, but I made sure to add the detail to her file.

That wasn't the only remarkable thing about Tanya's voice. With the help of an agent, she had learned to sing rather than simply hold tones, allowing her to better control her quirk. It didn't take much convincing for the children at the orphanage to make karaoke a weekly tradition, alongside their usual board game nights. Of course, everyone knew that Tanya was the true star of these musical evenings.

With her exceptional range, she could effortlessly switch from a deep baritone reminiscent of Deep Bassman to the much higher-pitched Lilikachu. Thanks to her unique vocal cords, she could even harmonize and perform duets though these instances were few and far between.

The last day before her assigned agent left, Tanya's normally vibrant eyes were dull and lifeless. Something had passed between them that I could not understand, but the tense silence afterwards spoke volumes about their bond.

Since then, he never bothered to return or even answer further calls. Every time I think of him, my anger rises like a tidal wave, ready to crush his smug grin and wipe it from existence.

The weeks that followed were heartbreaking. Tanya's once warm and open face became cold and distant again, and the light in her eyes seemed to have extinguished. Gone were the days when she would eagerly read school books or listen with rapt attention to my (totally not exaggerated) tales of heroism for the children. Instead, she started spending more and more time on her computer, reading strange and paranoid conspiracy theories about "Shadow governments'' and "Hero Assassins."

I had no choice but to restrict her usage, fearing for the toll it was taking on her mental well-being. Every time I saw her vacant expression and sunken eyes, I felt a pang of guilt. Even our weekly karaoke nights, once filled with joy and laughter, failed to bring back that glittering golden light in her eyes.

She would argue about needing to study or wanting to relax with a book instead of attending outings with the other children. Desperate for any semblance of her former self, I resorted to tricking her into coming by framing it as Quirk Training sessions. It felt underhanded at times, but it was the only way I could get her out of her shell.

Years passed by, and children came and went from our foster home. Some were adopted and left, while others disappeared when they came of age, but Tanya remained, always willing to lend a helping hand despite her own dreams feeling out of reach. To everyone else, she seemed content with just being helpful in the background.

I noticed the heavy cloud that hung over Tanya whenever heroes were mentioned. Every child dreams of one day using their quirks for the good of all, basking in the limelight with the freedom to be more than what society expected of them, but not Tanya. She wilted at even the thought of being in the spotlight. Ever since her HPSC trainer abandoned her, she avoided attention at all costs, even from potential adoptive parents. She always seemed busy or uninterested when couples came to meet the kids. I tried to convince her to open up and show them her true self, but she refused, saying that there were other children who needed parents more than she did.

I finally stopped pestering her when Tanya confided in me that she didn't want another parent who would hug her and then walk away like nothing mattered. Okuma gave me a knowing look when I spoke with her about it later, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed at my favoritism being so easily spotted.

Time marched on, and soon it was time to talk to the children about their future goals. I handed out papers for the younger ones to draw or write what they wanted to be when they grew up. As expected, most of them excitedly declared that they wanted to be heroes. The older teens, however, had more tempered dreams. Some still held onto the hope of becoming a hero despite the odds stacked against them.

I noticed that all-too-familiar clouded expression in Tanya's eyes as she sat quietly amidst the bustling crowd of children, their papers rustling with excitement. Leaning in, I couldn't help but search her dull silver orbs for any glimmer of passion. "And what about you, Tanya?" I inquired, my voice soft with concern. Her response came with a defeated tone, as if she was holding back her true desires once again. "I'm content with my job prospects," she murmured, her words carrying the weight of unspoken dreams.

The tension in the room intensified as Musaro's clawed hand slammed against the wall in frustration, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of control and authority. It was a noticeable change, one that hinted at a shift in dynamics. Yet, beneath the surface, I couldn't shake the feeling that this transformation was driven by a lingering guilt stemming from an incident years ago that may have shattered Tanya's dreams.

"You better get into U.A.!" he exclaimed. "All those study guides better have paid off!"

"I won't let you down, Musaro," Tanya declared confidently. "I'll get into U.A... maybe just the General Education course or Business." As Tanya spoke, Musaro's focus wavered, and the other children began to exchange incredulous glances. The atmosphere in the room subtly shifted. Sensing the change, Tanya offered a warm smile. "But I'm not the only one trying out for U.A., guys. Sando is also aiming for the support course-"

The mention of another student trying for U.A. caught the children's attention, and they turned eagerly to the pudgy pigtailed girl, surprised by Tanya's insight and eager to learn more. Seizing the moment, Tanya slipped out of the living room unnoticed by the other children.

I grimaced as I watched the door close behind her. Despite years of training to control her Quirk, Tanya still saw herself as a danger to others and refused to pursue her dream of becoming a hero...even though it was clear she yearned for it deeply.

She may have been young, but Tanya took on responsibilities around the house without complaint. She was always there for anyone who needed advice or a listening ear, had a heart of pure gold, and forgave any slight or prank against her with grace and understanding though she also made sure the children understood not to do it again.

Tanya's responses to my inquiries about various villains and their crimes were always in line with those of a true Hero. Her eyes would light up with determination as she spoke, her voice tinged with unwavering conviction.

When discussing the grocery store hold up, she explained, "The man may have committed a crime, but it was out of desperation. He felt he had no other choice. If only he had been given the opportunity for a job, this could have been avoided."

Regarding the fires that ravaged downtown, Tanya praised the swift actions of Endeavor in taking down the criminal responsible. "Yes, there may have been property damage," she acknowledged, "but that criminal's quirk was a walking virus capable of killing countless more innocent people. The value of human life far outweighs any material possessions."

It was clear to me that Tanya possessed the heart of a hero, and all she needed was a chance to prove it. When she asked me to submit her application to U.A., I couldn't help but smile as I checked off "Hero" instead of "Management" on the form. When I made sure a former intern would keep an eye out for her application and make sure it passed through the censors...

I knew I could never tell anyone.

But still as a mother, what wouldn't I do for my children?

---

Tanya Yamada, Middle Schooler

With a groan, I rubbed my tired eyes, feeling the weight of anxiety and frustration build within. Why did I have to take this test again? It seemed like fate was playing cruel tricks on me.

I remembered when I first gave my application to the Caretaker of the orphanage, hoping for a chance at a better future. But there was a "mixup," as she called it, and by the time it was discovered, it was too late for me to resubmit to the general education course. Thankfully, after a few frantic searches online, I discovered that I could transfer my classes if I was accepted into the prestigious hero course. Transfers between departments were not uncommon in the first year at U.A., but the chances of being accepted into the course was slim.

Slim. That's an understatement, really. The hero course at U.A. had less than a one percent acceptance rate, with students from all over Japan vying for the limited spots. Even the general course I had studied for had a low admittance rate of only five percent. But at least I had actually studied for that material.

According to what little information I could find on forums and blogs, the tests for the hero course were heavily biased towards destructive and flashy quirks. And let's face it, my quirk may fulfill the "flashy" requirement, but it definitely fails in terms of destructive potential. Not to mention, I hadn't exercised beyond the bare minimum required for my physical therapy. The thought of participating in intense physical training and competing against others with no doubt much more powerful quirks made me groan.

Why couldn't things just be simple?

For years, I dedicated myself to honing and perfecting my quirk, relentlessly practicing its effects whenever I was forced to take a break from my studies and perform for the orphanage. With careful observation and determination, I discovered the precise rhythm needed to channel my quirk's power, allowing me to lift objects far heavier than my slight frame would suggest. Countless hours spent watching and listening as Mita effortlessly wielded her strength, like lifting bunk beds with one hand to clean beneath them, had paid off. Despite that power at my disposal, the mere thought of getting into physical altercations with criminals sent a shiver down my spine - it felt like I would be donning the mask of Degurechaff once again. My true place was not on the front lines of heroism, but rather behind the scenes, crafting and promoting their image to the world.

I can only pra- I will pass this test. Then transfer to general education like I planned.

Curse Being X for putting me in this position.

---

Nedzu, Principle of U.A.

I took a small, soothing sip of my tea, watching the two figures in front of me with keen interest. Recovery Girl's tone was sharp and accusatory as she pointed her finger at the manila folder on the desk.

"Nezdu, are you really going to allow her to take the physical exam?" Her words were like a knife, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

It had been years since something as serious as this had slipped through the cracks of U.A.'s administration. Midnight may have thought she was clever, but she couldn't hide her actions from me. The situation at U.A. was becoming more and more chaotic, and I couldn't help but debate whether to either watch the train wreck or try and avert it.

Despite my efforts to encourage older Heroes to take on mentorship roles for the next generation, they stubbornly refused. They seemed content to remain in their ivory towers while danger lurked just outside.

My attempts to recruit Endeavor and other top ten heroes for teaching positions had been met with rejection, so I was caught off guard when All Might himself approached me with a job application and provisional teaching license in hand...

In recent years, there had been a significant turnover in staff as many left to return to hero work or retire for personal reasons. I didn't need to check the dates they submitted their notices to understand why - but their reasons were not helpful to the turmoil it left the school in.

And now, it fell upon me to fill in those gaps with competent teachers - a daunting task, but one that I was determined to succeed in.

I settled back into my comfortable leather chair, a symbol of my position of authority in my office. With a quick glance, I took in the appearance of the two teachers stationed in front of me. Aizawa's shaggy hair and unkempt beard were signs of his dedication to his duties, even if it meant sacrificing sleep for an extra patrol on the outskirts. His baggy eyes betrayed his lack of rest, yet his sharp gaze showed that adrenaline was keeping him invested in our discussion. Chiyo, on the other hand, seemed slightly uninterested, her tone of voice reflecting her disinterest in the topic at hand.

Aizawa had likely brought her here as a witness or for her medical expertise to argue against my decision. Despite myself I found it all quite interesting. Why would he care so much for this random girl…

"This is the height of irrationality. The girl shouldn't have passed the approving board, let alone the-"

Ah, so that's the reason behind their objections. I interrupted with a calm but firm tone, "But she did pass and applied to the course despite her medical history."

Aizawa paused for a moment, hoping he could somehow change my mind. He was already walking on thin ice with me after last year's expulsions, and it was only thanks to his useful quirk that he still held his position as a teacher at U.A. High School. The HPSC and school board had worked tirelessly to protect the school's image and prevent any negative stories from reaching the media. Aizawa's quirk was the only thing stopping me from intervening and exposing their political maneuvering.

"Then she is irrational and a danger to herself and others. We need to reject her application." There was something in Aizawa's tone that caught my attention - this was more personal to him than just following protocol. Afterall, he himself was not even allowed to take the general exam due to his own quirk being deemed a danger to others attempts.

I allowed a brief silence to fill the room before speaking, a result of my years of dealing with humans and their debates. When one has already charted the entire conversation one must take breaks or seem rude to others. I looked at both Aizawa and Chiyo before continuing.

"Well then, let me remind you both that your advice has always been heard and, in most cases, even followed. But in this case, we will not be blocking Yamada's test." Before they could retaliate, I held up a finger to silence them. "The U.A. testing grounds are top-of-the-line when it comes to safety and security. We also have Recovery Girl on hand for any potential injuries, along with other certified staff members. Yamada applied for the Hero course fully aware of her quirk's effects on her body."

For a hero school, our own teachers sometimes seemed to push the boundaries of safety. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought as I took a sip of my tea before continuing.

"That's very 'Plus Ultra' of her. If she fails, it may just serve as a reality check for her regarding her health...but something tells me she might surprise the two of you. And even if she doesn't, we must not forget the state of affairs we're currently facing this year."

Two years ago, every teacher at the school received a stern warning about their relaxed teaching styles and disciplinary practices. We were reminded of the importance of maintaining a positive image for our institution and its impact on the entire hero industry. However, last year these conversations became private between myself, Aizawa, and Vlad King.

Perhaps it was too little, too late. But then something unexpected happened - the students of 2-A banded together in an impressive display of teamwork, rarely seen in such a large group of individuals. Sadly, it was not for hero work but rather a lawsuit against the school, specifically Aizawa.

But I can't let that distract me now. If anything happens during the upcoming test, it will only add to my already overflowing pile of incidents to bring before the school board. Perhaps then I can finally change the entrance exam into something that truly showcases pure heroism instead of just brute strength. The secondary scoring system barely caught their attention when it was approved, and their laziness has kept them from challenging it thus far. Despite knowing my plans, Aizawa - in all his 'rationality' - continues to shoot himself and this school in the foot.

Thankfully, I was able to access notes on young Yamada's potential and her training for mitigating her Quirk from the HPSC's servers. It was the only thing that saved Midnight from being brought here to face consequences for her actions.

Lost in my thoughts, I waited until the two reprimanded teachers left my office before setting down the application folder Aizawa had left behind.

Tanya Yamada, Quirk: Fantasmic. She emits frequencies of sound and light from her body with various minor effects depending on the color. These frequencies are controlled by her vocal cords, and she is not immune to the effects, positive or otherwise.

I couldn't help but notice how familiar her face looked despite her common name. Non-heroes were a rare sight during my brief career as a hero, and I only interacted with students sparingly in my role as The Principal...something to look into if she ends up attending this school.

But for now, where is that blonde fool? He should have been here two hours ago...

---

Tanya Yamada, Hero Course Applicant

My instincts were spot on. I knew I wouldn't pass this test.

As the clock struck two, my mind had already turned to mush from hours of intense studying. The individual tests covered four broad subjects: mathematics, literacy (both English and Japanese), science, and heroics.

The literacy portion was a breeze for me. After all, I had lived three lives now and had become fluent in Anglish (English in this life). It was just further proof of Being X's laziness. Others may have found the amount of writing daunting, but for someone like me who had written pages of war documents and reports for fun, it was a walk in the park.

Math and science were also manageable. Years spent in the sky running magic calculations and formulas through my mind had prepared me well. Even when the questions reached college level difficulty, my pencil danced across the page with ease.

But then came the heroics section, which went terribly due to my lack of studying. Sure, I could handle basic first aid and mass casualty response questions thanks to my second life experiences, but when it came to dealing with villains and apprehension tactics? My mind drew a blank.

Insurance fraud versus unregistered quirk use responses? It was like playing Enni Minni Miney with my answers.

But ultimately, I hoped I had done well enough to pass. Though I wasn't about to start praying to Being X over it. If by some miracle I did manage to pass that test, it was probably because of the abundance of questions on mass casualty response and large-scale villain fights - something that my past life had given me plenty of experience in.

I reached into my bag and retrieved my lunch, eagerly anticipating the taste of real food once again. Gone were the days of rations that tasted of war and death, thanks to our lieutenant's efforts. Now, I could savor each bite without any lingering bitterness.

Sitting down in my isolated spot next to the garbage, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Despite the unpleasant smell around me, it was a small price to pay for the relative peace and cleanliness compared to the blood-soaked trenches of the Rhine. This was my spot of solace, away from the chaotic scene of hungry teenagers rushing for food.

If I didn't make it into U.A., I would have to settle for online classes and tight finances. But I deserved more than that. I deserved at least the chance to attend Japan's most prestigious school. In my well-deserved retirement life, second place would not suffice- I must strive for the best.

Negative thoughts only lead to failure, so instead, I focused on envisioning success. A plan was necessary, but I wouldn't receive any information until after lunch.

Uncertainty hung in the air as I finished my meal, a pamphlet outlining the upcoming physical tests placed into my hand. With a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, I was ushered into a large auditorium filled with rows of assigned seating.

Examining the pamphlet, I pored over the rules multiple times, trying to calm my racing thoughts while waiting for the Pro Hero to begin their explanation. But even as they spoke, my mind couldn't help but question the simplicity of it all.

Destroying robots. Different points for each type. It seemed too easy, almost trivial. Some robots were merely obstacles and held no value in the overall scoring. It was almost insulting to think that anyone with a strong enough quirk and stamina could excel in these tests. Of course, that also assumed that the robots were built to be purposefully weak or had obvious weaknesses to exploit.

But what did this have to do with being a hero? Just because one can destroy robots doesn't necessarily mean they possess heroic capabilities. From what I had seen on online forums about past exams, there was always a hidden test within the practical portion.

Wait...heroics is about more than just brute strength and destruction - that was the key!

---

Nemuri, Pro Hero Midnight, Heroic Arts Teacher

The observation room was filled with the faculty, all watching with keen interest as the students took their practical exam. The screens flickered with images of students battling robotic opponents, some excelling and others struggling to keep up.

"This group is very lively. They are pulling out tricks and doing very well," one professor remarked, while others switched from screen to screen, closely monitoring each student's progress.

I always dreaded this part of the year. The practical exam was necessary to weed out the weaker applicants, but I couldn't help feeling a sense of unease as I watched these young students fight for their future as heroes. My own quirk, like many others, wasn't suited for combat, but that didn't mean I couldn't hold my own with training and support items. My success in my last year of school's sports festival was proof of that.

But for most of these kids, this would be their first taste of real combat. Few had received any martial arts training or even considered using support items to enhance their quirks. It wasn't fair, but as I had been told before, life rarely is.

My eyes swept over the various screens showcasing the students' battles when something caught my attention. A little blond-haired girl, much smaller and thinner than her peers, marched through the streets without hesitation. She passed by other students fighting robots and seemed completely unfazed despite clearly not belonging in the Practical Exam.

"What..." I snatched one of the remotes from the table and locked the camera on her. Nedzu's voice brought me back to reality.

"I see you're looking at Yamada as well," he said with his trademark sharp smile.

Confused and slightly unnerved by his words, mentally I could only ask what she was doing in this exam. I had specifically recommended her for the less violent recommended exams.

Nedzu's smile only grew wider, whispering to me, "You know as well as I do that connections can get you anywhere, even into a recommended exam. But it looks like Yamada here wants to prove herself in the General Practical."

I winced at the knowledge that me must have known what I did.

I almost jumped when the camera suddenly went blank, then flickered back on to show Tanya with her arm shoved deep into a robot, successfully disabling it. Despite her size and appearance, Yamada was clearly a force to be reckoned with.

"Great. She's doing it."

Aizawa tiredly commented, his eyes glued to the monitor as a green-haired girl frantically ran through the city. Yagi turned his glance from his own screen and followed her movements, while Nezu observed with his usual smile. The monitors preemptively activated shaded filters as she passed by robots, leaving them without heads in her wake. A few students fell over, clutching their ears as she sprinted past them, prompting a concerned question from Yagi.

"What is she doing-" As I turned to him, Aizawa's reply was filled with open hostility. "She is hurting herself and the other examinees."

I blinked in surprise at his words. While he always valued the safety of his students above all else, accidents were common in training and this girl hadn't even been assigned to his class yet.

Curious about the girl, Yagi asked, "What is her quirk?"

Nedzu hummed thoughtfully before responding, "Examinee number 3141, Tanya Yamada. Her quirk is called Fantasmic… and it seems she isn't actually harming the other students." He tapped a few buttons on the control panel and the monitors switched to show the few students she had run by standing up and checking themselves before continuing on. "In fact," Nedzu continued, "it appears that she is energizing them. Though the blast of light and sound may have caused some momentary discomfort."

"So… she is singing at them?" Yagi looked intrigued by this revelation.

Aizawa let out a low hum of confirmation. "Based on her reports, I would have expected her arm to have blown off by now..."

My breath caught in my throat. How did he know about that? Did Mita mention something to him as well?

Meanwhile, across the room, Yagi spat blood in shock. "What!"

The sudden outburst caught everyone's attention, causing Nedzu to growl lightly and the other teachers to look towards him. "As Aizawa seems determined to create a bias for one of our examinees," he began, his beady eyes glancing towards me briefly, "it seems I must inform you all that our usual background checks missed a student this year."

Curse it all. This will be the final time she does a favor for that woman, even if it means sacrificing her connections.

"The girl in question had a history of losing control of her quirk, resulting in hospitalization. However, it was now supposedly under control and with Recovery Girl on standby, allowing the exam to proceed seemed like a low-risk decision. And now she is accumulating a nice amount of villain points." Nedzu sighed as he addressed the rest of the staff, waiting for them to return to their monitors before turning back to Aizawa. "If she passes, she'll be in your class. And because of your bias, any recommendation for expulsion this year will have to go through my approval first."

Aizawa grunted in response before returning to his screen, a slight frown tugging at his lips. It would be a year without him being able to expel students - something that was unprecedented but not entirely unwelcome. I loved the man deeply, but his tendency to jump the gun on expulsions had caused some issues in recent years.

Nedzu donned his headphones and used a nearby drone equipped with a directional microphone to focus on Yamada's quirk. Numbly, I synced my screen with his and listened in.

"-will tomorrow ever come? Will I make it-"

Bad Apple? At least the girl has good taste.

If this goes well perhaps she'll give Mita the benefit of the doubt after all.

---

Tanya Yamada, Hero Course Applicant

From the perspective of physics, sound is not just the audible waves we hear, but also the vibrations that travel through any medium - air, water, or ground. It is a powerful force that can have both harmful and beneficial effects on living beings. At low frequencies, it has the potential to cause internal damage and even fatalities, while high frequencies are inaudible to most humans but can be used for sonar-like purposes.

Sound is an invisible, deadly weapon and a versatile tool.

As someone with a mutation that allows me to control all frequencies of sound and see its waves, I am well aware of the dangers it poses. My vocal cords and eyes have been altered by my quirk, giving me the ability to produce sounds at any frequency and see their effects. However, this also means that something as simple as breathing can cause my bones to become brittle and break.

Quirk-induced Fibromyalgia at age five, thanks X, you-

Thanks to the support of an organization called HPSC, I received counseling and training to learn how to control my quirk and cope with its drawbacks. Through this, I discovered that I possess a secondary set of vocal cords that turn sound into visible light - a reverse process from converting electricity into sound.

I compared the effects to how I used Magic in my second life. I found a specific frequency that gave the effect of adrenaline, strengthening my muscles and letting me move faster, almost as if I had Mita's quirk as my own. Meanwhile, a specific slower frequency gave the effect of cooling down, calming me down, but made it a struggle to move. Like the owner of the orphanage, Okuma's Time Out quirk. I found with my testing that the light that shined also had an effect on all those around me.

In this battle against robots, I used this ability to my advantage. By singing loudly and creating bright flashes of light, I not only blinded the robots but also boosted the adrenaline levels of those around me. It was a calculated move - showboating is a key aspect of heroism, after all.

But with every loud note and blinding light came physical consequences for myself - bleeding throat and growing bruises on my arm. Focusing on controlling the direction and intensity of my abilities, I pushed through the pain and continued on with my plan.

And as I sang and made noise, I couldn't help but think about how similar this was to using magic in my past life. But now, it was all too real and I had to be careful not to harm myself or those around me with my powerful quirk.

"with nothing but my pain and a para-"

—-

The end of the exam was as abrupt as it began, a towering robot known as the Zero Pointer suddenly materializing out of thin air. Its mechanical limbs stretched and flexed, showcasing its immense strength and intimidating presence. The students scattered in fear towards the exit, their exhaustion from the intense exam forgotten for a moment.

As I stumbled towards the entrance, my energy completely drained, I could feel the mistakes of the last fifteen minutes weighing heavily on me. My throat burned and protested with every cough, begging for relief. I could only hope that all my showboating during the exam was worth it.

At the entrance, an elderly nurse with a cane greeted me with sympathy and understanding. She used her quirk to heal my throbbing throat and offered me some gummies to replenish my energy. Collapsing onto a nearby bench, I tried to catch my breath and fight off the overwhelming fatigue threatening to overtake me. I couldn't afford to pass out now, not after only fifteen minutes of rest. The thought of failing due to exhaustion terrified me.

But despite my efforts, sleep eventually overtook me and I woke up in the infirmary alongside a few other students also recovering from the brutal exam. One student had managed to break both their legs and arm during the test, a testament to just how grueling it had been. I couldn't imagine they would pass with such injuries.

Feeling defeated and exhausted, I couldn't help but think about my own chances of passing. Scheisse.

I departed from the infirmary, my thoughts consumed by the recent exam and my mistakes. The train ride provided a solitary space for me to reflect on my performance. It was clear that showboating had been the expected answer, but I couldn't help but feel that it had highlighted my flaws rather than my strengths.

As I made my way back to the orphanage, I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment and frustration. I needed to start sending out applications to other schools, even though it was a shame because U.A. would have been a prestigious addition to my job applications.

But every time I tried to bring this up to Mita, she brushed it off and told me to wait for the test results first. It was as if she already knew that I had passed.

While her confidence in me was appreciated, my efforts to appear perfect in front of her were now working against me.

Curse Being X. How did things end up like this?

After a week of internal stress and deadlines looming over me, I was pleasantly surprised when Mita congratulated me and handed me a letter along with a small metal projector. She gathered all the children around us as Sando opened her letter, revealing the metal disk as a projection created by the support course teacher. We all learned that Sando had been accepted into U.A.'s support course.

Amid the cheers and exclamations of my peers, I lowered my own projector onto the table. Mentally groaning, I braced myself for the impromptu huddle that formed around me as everyone in the room recognized the imposing figure of All Might projected before us.

With a flourish, All Might struck a powerful pose, his muscles visibly rippling under his suit. "I am here as a projection!" he boomed. "Congratulations, Tanya Yamada! You have displayed great knowledge and courage during your two exams!"

His voice was loud and commanding, like a masterful public speaker effortlessly capturing the attention of all those around him. "You scored exemplary on the written exam, with a perfect score in first aid. And during the practical, you showed remarkable focus, bravery, and self-sacrifice- all qualities of a true hero!"

The screen shifted to show Tanya running through the test course, taking down robots with ease and glowing brightly. Despite my own embarrassment at my poor form, the other children crowded around me exclaimed in awe and admiration.

All Might's larger-than-life smile filled the screen again as he pointed a pen at an empty space next to him. "You received thirty-eight villain points," he announced. "While an impressive score on its own, it was not enough to pass!" The screen now displayed Tanya's results with a glaring red X next to a 38/40.

My heart sank as I realized what that meant. I didn't pass.

My eye began twitching uncontrollably as I thought about all my carefully laid plans falling apart. The deadline for the other school was tonight- if I hurried, maybe I could still make it...

The resounding boom of All Might's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. "Do not fear, young ones! We were not only testing your combat abilities," he declared. "There were also rescue points to be earned, awarded by a panel of judges based on your actions. And let me tell you, you racked up an impressive twenty extra points for the uplifting music you sang for everyone in need!"

I let out a groan as I heard my own voice playing back through the small speaker. I knew I was on key, but hearing my quirk distorted by the speaker really grated my ears. However, my groans soon turned to amazement as I saw my name flash on the screen, listed as ninth place overall.

Ninth place? Out of all the hundreds of applicants? It was hard to believe but seeing it in writing made it real. My heart swelled with pride and a sense of accomplishment.

All Might stood with his back straight, his muscles bulging and flexing with a show of strength. His voice boomed through the speaker, "This is your Hero Academia! As for why I'm here!? You are looking at U.A. Academy's newest teacher!" All Might turned, towards the screen which had my application and photo, seeming to address me directly, "And Young Tanya, I look forward to having you in my class!" With a nod and a wave, he announced, "Well, that went well. I'm off to take a break- I've still got how many left?" And with that, the larger-than-life hero disappeared, leaving me in a state of shock that slowly twisted into horror as all the children clapped and cheered me on.

I had achieved what every aspiring hero dreamed of: entrance into the prestigious U.A. Academy in Japan. I should be overjoyed, right? But the problem was that I couldn't transfer out of the hero course as I had planned. Snubbing the number one pro hero would be disastrous for any career I applied to. Not to mention, everyone here would sooner crucify me than accept my decision. All Might held a level of popularity akin to that of The Emperor.

It was clear that this was all part of a convoluted plan by Being X. Only he could come up with something so deviously manipulative, and yet so stupid!

---

AN 2: Another title for this story is "Yeet-o to Hero"

Special thanks to Lorelei, and Drkshadow for assisting me in edit's and giving me the kick in the jewels I needed to keep going.

Also something no one commented on in the years posting this story, the POV names represent the characters mental state... Note the changes as time progresses.

My main inspiration is and continues to be, "Tanya the Holy" by Icura.

I'm going to be spacing out the re-reposting of the chapters here over the next few WEEKS/MONTHS: so don't hold back your comments/questions while waiting for the whole thing! I am editing the older chapters as I type this!