Divine Quirk: A New Era

by TomoEi18

Note: This fanfiction is a creative work inspired by the universe of My Hero Academia, created by Kohei Horikoshi. All rights to the original story and characters belong to their respective owners. 2nd Note:This is my first time writing fanfiction, so please tell me what you think in a civil manner.

17. Chapter 16: Investigation

I felt the cold bite of the sterile air as Recovery Girl wheeled me into the UA staff meeting room. The bandages wrapped tightly around my body did little to cushion the aching, and each movement reminded me of the raw wounds beneath. The drugs coursing through my veins dulled the sharpest of the pain, but I could feel them slowing my reflexes, making me sluggish. It was infuriating.

The room buzzed with low murmurs, concern etched on the faces of the staff members. Aizawa stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his ever-present frown deepening as his eyes scanned my condition. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual, a silent assessment that spoke volumes. Vlad King stood to his left, his massive frame radiating barely contained worry, while Present Mic's usual exuberance was noticeably muted, his mouth pulled into a thin line.

Recovery Girl gave my wheelchair a slight nudge forward, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a scalpel. "Now, now, everyone. Let's not make this a funeral procession. Seraphina's condition is stable, and she'll be under my supervision during this meeting." Her tone was firm, yet carried that gentle humor she was known for. She gave me a sidelong glance, her eyes twinkling despite the situation. "Even the Saintess can't out-stubborn me when it comes to medical care."

Her words drew a few chuckles, albeit weak ones. The tension in the room didn't dissolve, but it softened just a fraction. I clenched my hands into fists, the white bandages stark against my pale skin. I refused to be a burden, not now. Not when my insights could potentially turn the tide of this investigation.

"I appreciate your concern, Recovery Girl," I began, my voice hoarse but steady. I locked eyes with Aizawa, who hadn't taken his gaze off me. "But I need to be here. My experience during the battle… It can help us. I can help us."

Aizawa's frown didn't waver. He was always unreadable, a stone wall when it came to expressing any kind of emotion. It was both a strength and a frustration. His silence stretched on for a beat too long, and the others began to shift uneasily.

"Your presence is appreciated, Seraphina," he finally said, his voice as flat as ever. "But don't push yourself. We're all aware of what you've been through."

The tension in the room thickened again. They all knew what had happened, what I had endured. They had seen the aftermath, and their concern wasn't just for my physical state. It was for what I might reveal, what I might relive.

Vlad King was the first to step forward, his usual boisterous tone tempered. "Seraphina, we're glad you're here. But if at any point you feel... overwhelmed, you should rest. We've got this covered."

I appreciated his attempt to soften the blow, but I wasn't about to back down. I nodded, acknowledging his words, but I didn't let the resolve in my eyes waver. "Thank you, Vlad. But I'm not here to rest. I'm here to make sure that what happened to me doesn't happen to anyone else."

Present Mic, ever the one to inject levity into serious moments, chimed in, though his voice lacked its usual bombastic flair. "That's the spirit! But maybe you could share some of that stubbornness with Aizawa, huh?" He shot Aizawa a sidelong glance, but Aizawa didn't bite.

"Enough," Aizawa muttered, his voice sharp, silencing the room. He stepped closer, towering over me as he crouched slightly to meet my gaze at eye level. His eyes were intense, dark, and piercing. "Seraphina, we're here because we respect your insight. But don't mistake this for a casual meeting. What you say will have consequences. Are you prepared for that?"

I met his gaze unflinchingly. "I am."

The room fell silent again. The weight of the situation pressed down on us all. The upcoming discussion wasn't just about strategies or plans. It was about uncovering the truth behind the battle that had nearly cost me my life. It was about the shadows lurking behind the scenes, manipulating events from the darkness.

I glanced around the room, taking in the faces of the people I had come to trust. Despite their differences, these were some of the most competent individuals I had ever met. But even they seemed uncertain, their confidence shaken by recent events. I could see it in the way Midnight's fingers tapped anxiously on the table, in the tightness of Cementoss's jaw, in the way Nezu's normally bright eyes had dulled ever so slightly.

"Thank you, Seraphina," Tsukauchi began, his voice calm but commanding. He was a man who had seen the worst humanity had to offer, yet his resolve remained unshaken. He carried that weight with a quiet dignity that I had always admired. "I've been working closely with our team to track down Shigaraki and Kurogiri after their escape. Unfortunately, despite our best efforts, we've hit several dead ends."

The room, already tense, seemed to tighten further. Tsukauchi tapped on the tablet in front of him, bringing up a holographic display that showed images of Shigaraki and Kurogiri. The familiar faces of our enemies stared back at us, frozen in the grim expressions we had come to associate with their cruelty.

"Shigaraki's Quirk allows him to decay anything he touches, and Kurogiri, as you all know, uses warp gates to teleport himself and others. These abilities make them incredibly difficult to apprehend." Tsukauchi's voice remained steady, but there was a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Since the attack a few days ago, neither Shigaraki nor Kurogiri have been seen. We've been searching relentlessly for any trace of them, but they've completely vanished."

He tapped on the screen, bringing up images of Shigaraki and Kurogiri, their menacing profiles stark against the dark background. "We're almost certain these are aliases. Their backgrounds remain a mystery—no known records, no identifiable connections. It's as if they appeared out of thin air."

Tsukauchi paused, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Every lead we've followed so far has brought us to a dead end. No matter how close we get, they slip through our fingers. It's as though someone is deliberately covering their tracks, keeping them hidden in the shadows. This has complicated the investigation to a frustrating degree."

I could feel the unease spreading through the room. The villains had always been a step ahead, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it feel like we were constantly fighting a losing battle. My fingers tightened around the armrests of my wheelchair, the frustration gnawing at me.

"These bastards could strike again at any moment," Present Mic muttered, his voice low but laced with anger. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a deep-seated concern that mirrored my own. "And we're still scrambling to figure out who they really are? How the hell are we supposed to protect the kids if we don't even know what we're up against?"

Aizawa, who had remained silent throughout my account, finally spoke. His voice was calm, measured—typical of him. "We've dealt with incomplete information before. This isn't new." He shifted his gaze to Tsukauchi. "What about their movements? Any leads on where they might have gone after the attack?"

Tsukauchi sighed, a trace of frustration slipping into his tone. "Unfortunately, no. Since the attack, they've gone completely off the grid. We haven't seen any signs of Shigaraki, and Kurogiri, It's like they've vanished into thin air."

Aizawa's eyes narrowed slightly. "No sightings, no activity? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing," Tsukauchi confirmed, shaking his head. "We've been monitoring potential hideouts, tracking any suspicious movements, but so far, it's led to dead ends. It's clear they're being deliberately cautious. They're staying hidden, avoiding any moves that might expose them."

The room grew heavier with the weight of this revelation. The idea that the villains could disappear so completely was unsettling. It meant that wherever they were, they were likely planning their next move in secret, biding their time until the right moment to strike again.

Midnight, sitting to my left, sighed heavily. Her usual playful demeanor was absent, replaced by a rare, somber expression. "It's not just about stopping their next move, Aizawa. It's about keeping our students safe. We can't afford another incident like this. The parents, the media… they're already breathing down our necks."

I nodded in agreement, though my focus remained on the villains. The memory of Shigaraki's twisted smile as he reached for me, of Kurogiri's dispassionate gaze as he whisked his comrades away, played on a loop in my mind. The sense of helplessness I had felt then was something I couldn't shake off, not entirely. And now, knowing that their identities were still shrouded in mystery only fueled that frustration.

"Tsukauchi," I said, my voice cutting through the discussion. The detective turned to me, his expression unreadable. "You said they leave no trace. But there must be something. Some thread we can pull on. People like Shigaraki and Kurogiri don't just appear out of nowhere. Someone, somewhere, knows who they are."

Tsukauchi considered my words carefully before responding. "We're exploring every angle. Informants, records, anything that might give us a lead. But so far, nothing concrete has come up."

I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on me, and for a moment, I struggled with what to say next. How could we fight an enemy we couldn't even fully see? The silence stretched, uncomfortable, and it was Present Mic who broke it.

"Then what's our next move?" He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his tone more serious than I had ever heard it. "We can't just sit here twiddling our thumbs. These kids need protection, and we need a plan."

"We'll increase security measures," Aizawa said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Extra patrols, tighter surveillance. We can't afford to be complacent. But we also can't lose sight of our main goal—to find these villains and put an end to their plans."

Vlad King grunted in agreement. "We've been too reactive. It's time to be proactive. We start by doubling down on our search for information. Someone out there knows something, and it's our job to find them."

Nezu, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meeting, finally spoke up. His high-pitched voice broke through the tension, though his tone was far more serious than usual. "I agree with Vlad. We cannot rely solely on defense. Our best strategy now is to gather intelligence. And for that, we may need to consider… unconventional methods."

There was a murmur of agreement, though I could sense the unease in the room. Unconventional methods often meant stepping into morally gray areas, something that didn't sit well with everyone here. But Nezu was right. We couldn't afford to play by the rules if the villains weren't.

As the discussion continued, with plans being laid out and responsibilities assigned, I found my thoughts drifting. The faces of Shigaraki and Kurogiri, frozen on the holographic display, seemed to mock us. They had struck at the heart of UA, and now they were out there, planning their next move. I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever came next would be even worse. And if we didn't find a way to stop them… No. I couldn't think like that. We would stop them. We had to.

The room had fallen into a familiar rhythm of discussion—one that, despite its importance, began to blur around the edges of my consciousness. The adrenaline from recounting my experience had worn off, leaving me more aware of the dull throbbing in my wounds. I let the others talk, my focus shifting inward as I replayed the battle in my mind. Piece by piece, I tried to reconstruct every detail, every nuance of the encounter. There was something there—something that didn't sit right.

As Tsukauchi continued discussing the investigation, I listened intently, my mind sifting through the details he provided. The words "Shigaraki as the ringleader" echoed in my head, and something about that description didn't sit right with me. My thoughts churned, piecing together fragments of memory and observations from the battle. There was a pattern, but it was elusive—just out of reach.

Tsukauchi's voice drew me back as he reiterated the challenge of dealing with Shigaraki and Kurogiri's abilities. "Given Shigaraki's erratic nature and his position as the apparent ringleader, it's clear he's a significant threat. His unpredictability makes him dangerous, and that's why we need to find him before he strikes again."

"The word "ringleader" lingered in the air. As Tsukauchi spoke, I replayed the battle in my mind. Shigaraki had been dangerous, yes—but had he truly seemed like a leader? His actions had been impulsive, driven more by personal rage than calculated strategy. And yet, the entire attack had been meticulously planned, executed with precision that didn't align with Shigaraki's chaotic demeanor.

That's when it clicked.

I leaned forward slightly in my chair, my thoughts racing. There was a disconnect between Shigaraki's behavior and the organization of the attack. Shigaraki had been frustrated, reactive—someone too volatile to orchestrate something so complex on his own. He wasn't the mastermind. He was the frontman, a figurehead who carried out orders, not the one pulling the strings.

"A ringleader, eh?" I murmured, my voice cutting through the conversation like a blade.

It wasn't loud, but it was enough to bring the room to a halt. All eyes turned to me, a mixture of curiosity and surprise flickering across their faces. Even Aizawa, who rarely showed overt interest, tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto mine.

I continued, my voice steady despite the fatigue weighing me down. "Shigaraki. We're assuming he's the ringleader. But…" I paused, gathering my thoughts. "The more I think about it, the more off it seems."

Tsukauchi leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "What do you mean, Seraphina?"

I took a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. "Think about it. This attack on UA was bold, yes, but it was also meticulously planned. The timing, the execution… These aren't the actions of a chaotic villain group just throwing punches in the dark. There's strategy here. Intent. Someone orchestrated this with a level of precision that requires more than just brute strength."

Present Mic nodded slowly, his earlier frustration giving way to consideration. "You're saying there's more going on behind the scenes?"

"Exactly," I replied. "During the battle, I kept watching Shigaraki. He tried to project confidence, to act like he was in control, but…" I frowned, recalling the way his hands twitched, the slight tremble in his voice when things didn't go his way. "He was too quick to falter. Too reactive. When I defeated the Nomu, he wasn't just frustrated—he was genuinely rattled. That creature meant something to him. Its failure wasn't just a setback; it was personal."

The room absorbed my words in silence. I could see them processing it, each coming to their own conclusions. Midnight shifted in her seat, her expression thoughtful. "Shigaraki definitely seems unhinged… but if he's not the mastermind, then who is?"

"That's the question," I answered, my voice taking on a firmer tone. "If

Shigaraki is just a figurehead—a pawn—then the real threat is still out there, pulling the strings. And that person… they're far more dangerous."

Tsukauchi's face grew grimmer with every word I spoke. "A puppeteer behind the scenes," he muttered, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "It would explain a lot. But finding this person…"

"Won't be easy," I finished for him. "But it's necessary. We can't just focus on Shigaraki and Kurogiri. We need to find the one giving them their orders."

Aizawa, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "You mentioned the Nomu. What else can you tell us about it?"

I nodded, focusing on the creature that had almost killed me. "The Nomu… It wasn't just strong. It had multiple quirks. Regeneration, Shock Absorption, Superhuman Strength, Speed, and Endurance. It was as powerful as All Might, maybe even more so. Whoever created that thing didn't just give it power; they engineered it to withstand and counteract every possible threat. That kind of planning… it's not something a reckless villain does on a whim."

The shock in the room was palpable. I could see the surprise ripple through the staff, even though Aizawa and Vlad King remained composed. They had seen the creature firsthand, but hearing about its full capabilities in detail was a different matter.

"Multiple quirks?" Cementoss murmured, his brow furrowing. "That's… unnatural."

"It is," I agreed. "But it also means that whoever is behind this has access to resources and knowledge far beyond what we've encountered before. They're not just dangerous because of their power. They're dangerous because they're smart."

Vlad King let out a low growl, his fists clenched tightly. "And that makes them a bigger threat than we thought."

"We need to change our approach," Nezu added, his small voice carrying a surprising weight. "If there's a mastermind behind this, we can't afford to focus solely on the obvious targets. We need to dig deeper, look for the connections that aren't immediately apparent."

I nodded, my mind still racing. "And we need to do it quickly. The longer we wait, the more time they have to plan their next move. Shigaraki is a threat, but he's not the only one. If we want to stop this, we need to find the real leader—the one pulling the strings from the shadows."

Tsukauchi's face darkened further, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. "You're right. We'll expand the investigation, look into any leads that could point us toward this mastermind. But it won't be easy."

"Nothing worth doing ever is," I replied, my voice tinged with the fatigue that had been steadily creeping up on me. "But we don't have a choice."

As the room fell into a tense silence, I could feel the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on all of us. The enemy we faced wasn't just strong—they were cunning, patient, and relentless. And if we didn't find a way to outsmart them, then everything we had fought for would be at risk.

As I finished my analysis, a heavy silence settled over the room. The weight of my words lingered in the air, a stark reminder of the challenges ahead. I scanned the faces around me, noting the varied reactions—concern, determination, and, in some cases, quiet fear. But one face stood out from the rest.

All Might.

He hadn't spoken much during the meeting, his usual larger-than-life presence subdued. His broad shoulders seemed weighed down by invisible burdens, and his eyes—normally so full of energy—had a distant, haunted look to them. Even now, as the others digested the implications

of my insights, All Might sat in quiet contemplation, his jaw clenched tight.

There was something unsettling about his silence. All Might was known for his decisive action, his ability to rally those around him with a smile and unwavering confidence. But right now, that confidence seemed shaken. His gaze was focused on the holographic image of Shigaraki, and for a brief moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Recognition? No… more like dread.

I could see it, even if no one else noticed. His gut instinct was telling him something, something he hadn't yet shared with the rest of us. I wanted to ask him, to pry into whatever thought was haunting him, but I held back. All Might would speak when he was ready—if he ever was.

"All Might?" Tsukauchi's voice broke the silence, drawing all eyes to the symbol of peace. "Your thoughts?"

All Might blinked, pulling himself out of whatever dark reverie had held him. He forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Seraphina raises valid points," he said, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth. "Shigaraki… He's dangerous. But it's not just his unpredictability. There's something more to him."

The room remained silent, waiting for him to continue. But after a moment, All Might simply shook his head. "We can't afford to underestimate him. If he's being manipulated, then the true enemy is still out there, biding their time."

Tsukauchi nodded, though I could see the detective wasn't entirely convinced by All Might's vague response. "Which brings us to our next point," he said, turning the discussion back to strategy. "If Shigaraki is indeed the ringleader—or at least the one acting as the face of this League of Villains—then we need to be prepared for more attacks. His unpredictability makes him an immediate threat, and we can't afford to wait for him to make the next move."

Aizawa spoke up, his tone as cold and practical as ever. "We'll need to increase security measures around UA. Patrols, surveillance, tighter protocols. We can't be caught off guard again."

"We should also consider off-campus threats," Midnight added, her usual playful tone replaced by one of grim seriousness. "If Shigaraki is targeting the school, there's no reason to think he won't go after the students elsewhere. They need to be prepared, both physically and mentally."

Vlad King nodded in agreement. "Agreed. We need to make sure they're ready for anything. The last thing we want is another ambush like the one at the USJ."

As the conversation continued, with each staff member offering their thoughts on how to fortify UA and protect the students, I found myself growing more and more exhausted. My body was begging for rest, the drugs in my system pulling me down like quicksand.

Aizawa's gaze flickered to me, a brief moment of something almost resembling approval crossing his features. "You've done enough for today, Seraphina. It's time to rest."

I wanted to argue, to insist that I could still contribute, but my body betrayed me. The exhaustion was overwhelming now, and even staying upright felt like a monumental task. Before I could respond, Recovery Girl stepped forward, her hands on her hips.

"That's enough out of you, young lady," she said, her voice stern but not unkind. "You've done more than enough. Now it's time for you to get back to bed."

I nodded, finally conceding to the inevitable. "Alright," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

With that, the meeting came to an end. The staff began to disperse, murmuring amongst themselves as they prepared to implement the plans we had discussed. There was no triumphant conclusion, no sense of relief—only the heavy, lingering weight of the battle ahead.

As Recovery Girl wheeled me out of the room, I caught one last glimpse of All Might, still staring at the holographic image of Shigaraki. His face was set in stone, but his eyes… His eyes were filled with a fear I had never seen in him before.

--

Aizawa stood at the front of the classroom, his usual bored expression firmly in place as he addressed the class. His voice was as monotonous as ever, but the words he spoke carried weight.

"The UA Sports Festival is coming up," he announced, pausing to let the significance of those words sink in. "For those of you who don't know, this is one of the most important events in your time here at UA. It's a chance to show off your abilities to pro heroes, agencies, and the public. But don't let that go to your heads."

He glanced around the room, his gaze sharp despite the tiredness in his eyes. "You'll need to stay focused. Train hard, but don't overdo it. This isn't just for show—this is an opportunity to prove yourselves."

As Aizawa finished his brief speech, a wave of excitement rippled through the room. Midoriya felt his heart leap in his chest, the nervous energy coursing through him. The UA Sports Festival. It was a chance to show everyone how far he had come—a chance to prove to himself and the world that he was worthy of inheriting One For All.

Around him, his classmates reacted in their own ways. Bakugo's lips curled into a fierce grin, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Finally," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for those nearby to hear. "I'll show all these extras what real power looks like."

Next to Midoriya, Uraraka clasped her hands together, her face lighting up with a mixture of excitement and determination. "This is it!" she said, her voice barely containing her enthusiasm. "A chance to show the pros what we can do!"

Iida, ever the diligent class representative, adjusted his glasses and nodded firmly. "Indeed! This is an opportunity we must not take lightly. We'll need to refine our strategies and ensure that we're prepared for anything."

"Y-Yeah…" Midoriya mumbled, still processing the gravity of the event. His mind was already racing through possible scenarios—how he could use his quirk, how he could avoid making mistakes in front of such a large audience. He felt the pressure building, but alongside it was a spark of excitement. This was his chance to stand out, to show everyone that he could handle the responsibility of One For All.

Todoroki, who sat a few seats away, remained silent, his eyes fixed on his desk. His expression was unreadable, but Midoriya could sense the intensity behind it. Todoroki was always focused, always driven—but there was something else there, something deeper.

As Aizawa continued with the day's lesson, the announcement of the Sports Festival lingered in the air, an electric current that buzzed just beneath the surface of every conversation. The students exchanged glances, whispered plans, and silent promises to themselves. They knew that the weeks leading up to the festival would be grueling, but they also knew it was a crucial stepping stone in their journey to becoming pro heroes.

--

The bell rang, signaling the end of the class, and the students began to pack up their things. Midoriya felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to see Uraraka smiling at him.

"Hey, Deku," she said, her voice cheerful. "You wanna grab lunch with us?"

Midoriya nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah, that sounds great."

As they exited the classroom, the air was filled with chatter about the upcoming festival. Everyone seemed to be buzzing with energy, their minds filled with strategies, training plans, and the looming pressure of performing in front of pro heroes and the public.

"I can't believe the festival is already here," Midoriya thought to himself as he walked alongside his friends. "It feels like just yesterday I was struggling to control One For All, and now… now I have to show the world that I can handle it."

He glanced at his classmates—Uraraka, Iida, and even Bakugo, who was striding ahead of them with that same determined scowl on his face. Everyone had grown so much since the start of the school year. They had all faced challenges, some of them life-threatening, and come out stronger for it. But the Sports Festival was a different kind of test—one that would push them in ways they hadn't yet imagined.

As they approached the cafeteria, Midoriya couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nerves. "This is it," he thought. "This is my chance to show what I've learned—to prove that I'm worthy of this power."

But just as they were about to enter the cafeteria, a familiar, booming voice echoed down the hallway.

"YOUNG MIDORIYA!"

Midoriya froze in place, his eyes widening as he recognized the voice. All Might's larger-than-life figure appeared at the end of the hallway, his hand raised in greeting. The rest of the students turned to look, their expressions ranging from awe to curiosity.

"All Might?" Midoriya stammered, trying to keep his voice steady as his heart raced in his chest.

"Midoriya, my boy!" All Might called out as he approached, his usual smile plastered across his face. "How about you join me for lunch today? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

The hallway fell silent as the students processed what was happening. All Might, the Number One Hero, had just casually invited Midoriya to lunch as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Midoriya could feel the eyes of his classmates on him, their curiosity and envy almost palpable.

Bakugo's scowl deepened, his eyes narrowing as he watched the exchange. Uraraka and Iida exchanged a quick glance, their expressions a mix of surprise and understanding.

"Uh… Sure!" Midoriya managed to reply, his voice a little too loud in the sudden quiet.

All Might's smile broadened as he gave Midoriya a thumbs-up. "Great! Follow me, young Midoriya!"

As All Might turned and began to walk away, Midoriya hurried to catch up, still feeling the weight of student's stares. He could hear their whispers, the speculation and envy in their voices, but he forced himself to focus on All Might. Whatever All Might wanted to discuss, it had to be important.

As Midoriya followed All Might through the hallways, his heart raced. He could still feel the curious gazes of the students lingering on him, especially Bakugo's piercing glare. The excitement of Aizawa's Sports Festival announcement was still fresh in his mind, but now it was mixed with the anticipation of what All Might wanted to discuss. The Number One Hero's casual request for lunch had turned a normal day into something much more significant.

As they walked, All Might kept up his usual charismatic facade, offering bright smiles and enthusiastic waves to the students they passed. But Midoriya noticed the slight stiffness in his movements, the way his smile faltered for just a second when he thought no one was looking. It was subtle, but it was there—a sign that something was weighing heavily on him.

Finally, they arrived at the teacher's lounge, a quiet space that felt almost too large without the usual bustle of staff and faculty. All Might gestured for Midoriya to take a seat at one of the long tables, and the hero himself settled down across from him, his larger-than-life presence filling the room.

The silence that followed was almost unsettling. All Might's usual energy seemed dimmed, and Midoriya couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. He knew All Might wouldn't have called him here just for a casual chat. There was something more to this.

"Midoriya," All Might began, his voice softer than usual. His smile faded as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "There's something I need to tell you… something important."

Midoriya straightened in his seat, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Y-Yes, All Might?"

All Might took a deep breath, his gaze growing distant for a moment before locking onto Midoriya's. "My time… It's running out faster than I anticipated."

Midoriya's heart skipped a beat. He had known about All Might's condition for some time now—how his injury had drastically reduced the amount of time he could stay in his hero form. But hearing it put so bluntly still hit hard.

"How much time…?" Midoriya asked hesitantly, already fearing the answer.

"Two hours," All Might replied, his voice heavy with resignation. "That's all I've got left each day now. And if I had been there at the USJ, if I had fought when my time was already up… it could have been even less."

Midoriya's mind raced. Two hours. That wasn't enough—not for someone like All Might, who had always been a beacon of hope and strength. The realization made Midoriya feel the weight of the responsibility he carried even more acutely. All Might had chosen him to inherit One For All, and now… now it was becoming clear that the torch would be passed sooner than he had expected.

"But…" All Might's voice broke through Midoriya's thoughts, bringing his attention back to the present. The hero smiled, but it was a weary smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "I would have risked it if it meant saving Seraphina. She… she's strong, but she's carrying a heavy burden, just like you. If I could have been there in time to help…"

He trailed off, and for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. Midoriya swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. He knew All Might was right. Seraphina had been instrumental in helping him control One For All, guiding him in ways that All Might hadn't been able to. And now she was injured, perhaps even more gravely than he had realized. The thought of losing her, of losing both of them… It was almost too much to bear.

"But that's why we're here, right?" All Might continued, his voice regaining some of its usual vigor. "The Sports Festival. It's your chance to show the world what you're made of. And more importantly, to show yourself."

Midoriya nodded, feeling the pressure of All Might's words. The Sports Festival wasn't just about competing—it was about proving himself, about standing up and declaring to the world that he could carry the mantle of One For All.

"Your progress has been impressive, Midoriya," All Might said, leaning back in his chair. "Especially with Seraphina's guidance. Being able to switch between body parts with One For All… That's no small feat. But…"

Midoriya looked up, sensing the shift in All Might's tone. The hero's gaze was piercing now, sharp and focused.

"But you're still struggling with control, aren't you?" All Might asked. "Your body is stiff, right? Your reactions… they're not where they need to be."

Midoriya winced, the truth of All Might's words hitting home. He had been working so hard to master One For All, but there were still moments where his body couldn't keep up with his mind. Moments where the power felt too much, too overwhelming. His muscles would seize up, his movements would falter, and in those moments, he knew he was still far from mastering the quirk.

"Yes," Midoriya admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm still struggling. Seraphina's been helping me a lot, but… I just can't seem to get it right."

All Might nodded, his expression softening. "That's to be expected, my boy. One For All isn't an easy quirk to master. It's a power that requires not just strength, but finesse. And that's what you need to focus on during the Sports Festival. You've got the strength, but you need to learn how to control it fluidly, without hesitation."

Midoriya absorbed All Might's words, feeling both the weight of the responsibility and the encouragement behind them. He knew All Might was right. This was his chance to show that he could control the power he had been given, that he could rise to the occasion and prove himself worthy of the quirk that had been entrusted to him.

"And remember," All Might added, his voice gaining strength once more. "This isn't just about winning. It's about showing the world that you're here. That you're ready to stand on your own two feet, just like any other hero. This is your moment, Midoriya. Don't let it slip by."

Midoriya clenched his fists, determination surging through him. He could feel the pressure, the expectations weighing on him—but he also felt a spark of hope. This was his chance. His opportunity to show everyone, including himself, that he could do it. That he could live up to the legacy of One For All.

"I won't let you down, All Might," Midoriya said, his voice filled with resolve.

All Might's smile returned, brighter this time, though still tinged with that underlying weariness. "I know you won't, my boy. I have full confidence in you. Just remember to stay focused, and don't let the pressure get to you. You've got this."

As they sat in silence for a moment, Midoriya couldn't help but think about the journey ahead. The Sports Festival loomed large in his mind, a monumental challenge that he couldn't afford to take lightly. But with All Might's words echoing in his ears, he felt ready—ready to face whatever came his way.

--

The atmosphere in the hall was charged as Class 1-A and Class 1-B mingled, the buzz of conversation filling the air. The Sports Festival announcement had sparked excitement and nerves alike, and now, as they prepared for their joint class, the anticipation was almost palpable.

Midoriya walked alongside Iida and Uraraka, his mind still processing his conversation with All Might. The weight of the upcoming festival pressed on him, but there was a strange comfort in knowing that he wasn't alone in feeling the pressure. He glanced around at his classmates—each of them seemed lost in their own thoughts, their expressions ranging from determined to anxious.

Bakugo, as usual, looked ready to explode with energy, his fiery personality undiminished by the looming event. He strode ahead of the group, his eyes fixed forward, daring anyone to challenge him. Todoroki, on the other hand, was quieter than usual, his face a mask of cool indifference as he walked alongside Momo Yaoyorozu. Despite their silence, there was an intensity to his presence that couldn't be ignored.

On the other side of the hall, Class 1-B was gathered in smaller groups, their conversations more reserved but no less focused. Tensions between the two classes simmered beneath the surface, a subtle rivalry that had only grown stronger since the news of the Sports Festival. But for now, most of the conversations remained friendly, if somewhat competitive.

"I can't believe it's finally here," Uraraka said, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. "I mean, the Sports Festival… It's such a big deal. I just hope I don't mess up."

"You'll do great, Uraraka," Midoriya replied, offering her a reassuring smile. "We've all been training so hard for this. We just have to stay focused."

"I concur," Iida added, his usual fervor shining through. "We must approach this event with precision and dedication! Our performance in the festival will determine our future opportunities as heroes!"

Uraraka nodded, her expression firming with resolve. "You're right! We've got this!"

As they reached the doors leading to their next class, a sudden commotion outside caught their attention. The chatter from within the hallways grew louder, and when the doors swung open, they were met with a surprising sight.

A large group of students from other departments had gathered in front of the doors, their eyes fixed on the members of Class 1-A and 1-B. Whispers and murmurs spread through the crowd as the students pushed forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the ones who had survived the villain attack. To many of them, Midoriya and his classmates were like celebrities—heroes who had faced down real danger and lived to tell the tale. But to others, they were rivals—competitors who had gained fame and attention they didn't deserve.

"Look, it's them!" one student whispered, pointing toward Midoriya. "Those are the kids who fought the villains at USJ!"

"They're the ones who got all that media attention," another student added, a hint of jealousy in their voice. "They think they're so special, just because they survived."

The tension in the air was thick as more students gathered, their eyes locked onto the members of Class 1-A and 1-B. The murmurs grew louder, and soon, the crowd began to close in around them, curious faces peering through the gaps as if trying to see what made these students so special.

"Hey, move out of the way!" Bakugo snarled, his usual temper flaring up. His hands clenched into fists, tiny explosions crackling around his palms as he glared at the crowd. "We don't have time for this crap!"

"Bakugo, calm down," Iida said, stepping forward to try and defuse the situation. "There's no need to get aggressive."

But Bakugo wasn't the only one who bristled at the attention. Kirishima, ever the loyal friend, stepped up beside him, his sharp teeth bared in a challenging grin. "Yeah, what's the deal? We're just trying to get to class, and you guys are blocking the way."

"Just because you fought some villains doesn't make you hotshots," a voice from the crowd called out, cutting through the noise. "You're not the only ones who want to be heroes, you know!"

The words struck a chord with the crowd, and several students voiced their agreement, their resentment bubbling to the surface. The members of Class 1-A and 1-B exchanged glances, the tension between them and the crowd escalating.

It was then that Hitoshi Shinso, a student with a quiet presence but sharp eyes, made his first appearance. He stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the scene unfold with a detached curiosity. His posture was relaxed, his hands tucked into his pockets, but there was something in his gaze that hinted at a deeper understanding. He didn't join in the commotion, instead observing the interaction with a calm that set him apart from the others.

Just as the tension threatened to boil over, a soft yet commanding voice cut through the chaos.

"Enough."

The single word seemed to echo in the hallway, and all eyes turned toward the source. Seraphina wheeled herself forward, her body wrapped in bandages, her presence immediately drawing attention. The sight of her—injured, yet composed and resolute—had a sobering effect on the crowd. The students fell silent, their earlier bravado melting away in the face of her calm authority.

Seraphina's gaze swept over the crowd, her eyes sharp despite the pain that clearly lingered beneath the surface. Her voice, though quiet, carried a weight that demanded respect. "Is this really what you think heroism is about? Glory? Fame?"

She paused, letting her words sink in. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, their earlier aggression replaced by uncertainty.

Seraphina continued, her tone more disappointed than angry. "You talk about fame as if it's something to be coveted. But let me tell you something—there's no glory in nearly dying. There's no fame in surviving a mob of villains who want nothing more than to see you dead. Being a hero isn't a game, and it's certainly not about hogging the spotlight."

Her words cut through the crowd like a knife, and the students seemed to shrink under her gaze. Even those who had been the most vocal a moment ago were now silent, their earlier bravado gone.

"You all want to be heroes," Seraphina said, her voice softening, but not losing its edge. "But understand this: being a hero means risking everything. One wrong move, and your life could be over. If you can't handle that, then maybe you should reconsider what it means to pursue this path."

The hallway was utterly silent now, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. Seraphina's disappointment was palpable, and it left the students with a sense of shame that no amount of bravado could cover.

Finally, she straightened in her wheelchair, her expression softening just slightly. "Now, move along. You're disturbing two classes, and we all have work to do."

The crowd began to disperse, students muttering apologies as they made way for the members of Class 1-A and 1-B. The tension dissolved, replaced by a quiet, somber atmosphere. Several students, their earlier resentment gone, turned to Seraphina with concerned expressions.

"Are you okay, Seraphina?" one of them asked tentatively.

Seraphina gave a small, awkward smile. "I've had better days, but I'm fine. I got some rest earlier, but when I woke up, I couldn't sleep. Thanks to my quirk, I'm recovering faster than normal, but… Recovery Girl doesn't know I'm out here, so let's keep this between us, alright?"

Just as she finished speaking, a familiar voice rang out from behind her.

"Oh, does she now?"

Seraphina stiffened in her wheelchair as Recovery Girl appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her stern expression making the students collectively wince. The tiny old lady wasted no time in scolding Seraphina, her words sharp but laced with concern.

"Seraphina, you know better than to wander around in your condition! You should be resting, not lecturing students in the hallway!"

Seraphina sighed, her earlier composure cracking just a bit. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, but I couldn't just stay in bed…"

But Recovery Girl wasn't having any of it. With surprising strength for her age, she wheeled Seraphina around and began pushing her back toward the infirmary, much to the amusement of the watching students.

"Back to bed with you!" Recovery Girl huffed. "Honestly, you young people never listen…"

As Seraphina was wheeled away, the students from Class 1-A and 1-B couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. The tension from earlier had evaporated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and relief.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Kirishima said with a grin. "The strongest among us gets scolded like a kid."

"She's a force to be reckoned with," Midoriya agreed, smiling as he watched Seraphina disappear down the hallway. "In more ways than one."

With the crowd now dispersed and the hallway clear, the students of Class 1-A and 1-B finally made their way to their joint class, their spirits lifted despite the challenges that lay ahead. And as they walked, the lessons of the day—both spoken and unspoken—lingered in their minds, reminding them of the true meaning of being a hero.

For Midoriya, the encounter with the other students served as a stark reminder that the road to becoming a hero was filled not just with physical challenges, but also with the expectations and scrutiny of others. He knew that the upcoming Sports Festival would be a test of his abilities, but also a chance to show the world—and himself—that he was ready to shoulder the burden of One For All.

Bakugo, with his usual fiery determination, mentally prepared himself to crush the competition. The murmurs of doubt and jealousy from the other students only fueled his resolve. He was determined to prove, once and for all, that he was the best, and that no one could stand in his way.

Todoroki, ever composed, walked in silence, his thoughts focused inward. The Sports Festival would be more than just a competition for him—it would be a stage on which he could confront his own past and prove that he was more than the legacy of his father. The tension between his ice and fire quirks mirrored the internal conflict he struggled to resolve.