INTERLUDE - "THE KIDS WILL BE ALRIGHT"

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The words hover on the screen, glowing in muted gold against a pitch-black background. A breath later, the text fades, giving way to a soft light that expands and sharpens until it becomes the gilded crest of Haruboshi Academy—an intricate emblem of interlocking branches around a star, rendered in deep maroon and silver.

A gentle yet commanding voice, smooth as silk and filled with promise, speaks.

"Welcome... to Haruboshi Academy."

BZZT

The view sweeps across a grand landscape—a sprawling campus nestled in lush, manicured gardens with neatly laid paths curving around towering buildings. Each structure is a testament to opulence and modernity, with walls of glass and gleaming marble juxtaposed with the traditional wooden gates and stone pathways. Haruboshi Academy glimmers in the early morning light, a beacon of prestige and excellence.

The voice continues, full of reverence and pride.

"At Haruboshi Academy, we cultivate minds and hearts for a brighter tomorrow. Where ambition meets tradition, and dreams are realized daily."

BZZT

The camera shifts to a tense moment as prospective students stand in a large hall, clutching exam sheets and murmuring to themselves. The room is alive with a palpable energy—the buzz of young minds both eager and anxious. A clock ticks, and suddenly, the exam begins.

A young girl's hand flies across her test paper, focused and determined. Another boy furrows his brow, working through a complex problem with fervor. The announcer's voice softens, almost as if to convey an intimate secret.

"At Haruboshi, only the brightest are selected. Our entrance exam, renowned for its rigor, ensures that every student admitted is truly extraordinary."

The image zooms out to show rows upon rows of students, each consumed by the test, the weight of opportunity pressing on their shoulders. There's a sense of unity here—a gathering of elite minds bound by the relentless pursuit of greatness.

BZZT

The camera sweeps through various classrooms, each showcasing instructors with impressive gravitas. In a high-tech lab, Dr. Emiko Saito, a brilliant scientist with piercing eyes, gestures to a holographic projection of a complex molecular structure. Her students, leaning forward intently, hang on her every word.

"Our faculty is unparalleled, drawing from the finest minds across all disciplines. Each member is not only a teacher but a mentor, dedicated to bringing out the very best in every student."

In another room, an economics professor, Mr. Hiroshi Tanaka, engages his students in a spirited debate. The discussion crackles with intellectual energy, voices rising and falling as students wrestle with theories and challenge one another.

"We believe that education is a conversation, an exchange where everyone leaves with more than they came with. Our teachers inspire, provoke, and lead."

BZZT

Next, the scene shifts to Haruboshi's renowned debate team, standing on a stage in sharp suits, staring down their opponents with unshakable confidence. A girl with glasses and a steely expression commands the stage, her voice steady and powerful.

"In our clubs and societies, students hone their talents and cultivate leadership skills. Whether on the debate floor, in the science lab, or on the field, we foster an environment where each student can truly excel."

Then, a quick montage: the school orchestra in mid-performance, their music filling an opulent auditorium; the track team in sleek maroon and silver, sprinting down the track as their coach calls out encouragement; the robotics club adjusting wires and panels, eyes alight with anticipation. Each clip speaks of potential in full bloom, of greatness just on the verge of realization.

BZZT

The scene shifts to a tour of the Haruboshi dormitories, more like luxury hotel suites than student housing. Spacious, sunlit rooms with polished hardwood floors, elegant furniture, and panoramic windows overlooking the campus. Students unpack in excitement, adjusting their belongings, setting up their new spaces with care.

"At Haruboshi, every student is valued. Our dormitories are designed to foster comfort, community, and concentration, providing a true home away from home."

One student stands by the window, gazing out at the campus with a look of awe and pride. This place, with its blend of tradition and modernity, feels like a world unto itself.

BZZT

Now, the camera pans down the main hallway, where sunlight filters in through stained glass windows that depict the history of Haruboshi. Figures clad in robes, hands raised to symbolize knowledge, wisdom, and honor. Murmurs of students passing through the halls, discussing everything from theories of astrophysics to poetry, fill the air.

"With a heritage steeped in both tradition and innovation, Haruboshi Academy is more than just a school—it is a legacy, a stepping stone to the future."

The light lingers on the statues that line the halls—busts of famous alumni, politicians, artists, and philosophers. The atmosphere carries a weight, a palpable reverence for those who have passed through these halls, leaving their mark on history.

BZZT

The scene cuts to polished news footage, showing Haruboshi's recent accomplishments splashed across headlines and news feeds.

"Haruboshi's impact is felt far and wide. Recognized nationwide as a model of academic excellence, our graduates lead in every field, from law to technology, from business to the arts."

Shots of Haruboshi alumni flash by—one receiving an award on a stage, another shaking hands with a political leader, a third conducting a symphony orchestra before a mesmerized audience. Their faces are filled with confidence, a testament to the school that shaped them.

BZZT

A wide shot of the campus returns, only now it's dusk, with golden lights illuminating the pathways and casting a soft glow over the buildings. Students walk across the campus with books and bags, their silhouettes sharp against the twilight sky. The camera lingers on them—young, determined, driven by the desire to be part of something grand.

"To be at Haruboshi Academy is to be part of a tradition of excellence, to step onto a path of endless opportunity. Here, ambition is nurtured, dreams are fostered, and futures are forged."

The screen fades, but the crest of Haruboshi Academy remains—stark and shining, a promise of the prestige that lies within.

"Haruboshi Academy... Where potential is realized, and greatness begins."

The screen fades once more, and the words "Enrollment Now Open" appear, beckoning the viewer toward a world where the elite are made, and legacies are born.

END TRANSMISSION

Dear Sajimi,

A week. A week from now, I'll find out what this whole "Meiyo Academy" bullshit is all about. And let's be clear: I know nothing. I know nothing about what they want from me or what I'm supposed to become. But I'm walking into it anyway. I will not cower, not now, not ever—not even a flicker.

I hope these letters have reached your bedside. I have no idea if your parents have crumpled them up and thrown them away. If they have, I honestly don't blame them. Why should they want to read the words of the girl who pushed their son to the edge? The girl who turned their son's mind into a living hell, day after day, until he saw no way out but down. And still, here I am, writing. Because this, maybe this is all I have left to give you.

I don't expect you to wake up and see me there. I don't expect you to open your eyes and forgive me, or understand, or even know me. I don't deserve that. But I made a promise, didn't I? And I don't break promises. You told me to find myself before it's too late. It was your last day awake, and that was what you gave me. Like it was supposed to mean something. Like it would fix anything. And you know what? Maybe it was the only thing I needed to hear. So now, this is my sick little quest, my twisted pilgrimage to become the person you believed I could be.

I look at my reflection, Sajimi, and I don't even see a person. I see something vicious, something jagged. You know what I was to you, don't you? I was every horror you'd ever feared wrapped in human skin. I was every insecurity, every weakness, every dark thought you buried. I made sure you felt them. I wanted to see you crumble. God, I wanted to see you crawl. The satisfaction I got watching you break—that was real. That was my high, my reason to get out of bed in the morning. Every smile I forced off your face felt like a victory. And every tear, every tiny tear you tried to hide... I drank it in like I was parched.

But I've learned one thing since you've been gone: satisfaction is a void. The thrill fades, and then I'm left with nothing but myself. And that's the worst part, Sajimi. I'm left with me. There's no silence loud enough to drown out the mess I've made. I've become trapped in a cage of my own making, and I can't claw my way out. You're not here to push against, to hate, to hurt. There's just this empty, bottomless pit where you used to stand, looking up at me, still hoping I'd stop. And I didn't. You looked at me like I was capable of something more, something better. Why did you ever believe that?

They tell me you're alive. That you're stable. That you're locked in some dreamland far away from this hell. Sometimes I think it'd be easier if you weren't breathing. Just a fact, right? Something final I could deal with. Instead, you're in this limbo because of me, like you're some punishment tailor-made for every terrible thing I've ever done. You're out there somewhere, sleeping like a punishment.

I keep telling myself I'll be different when you wake up. A different person altogether. I'll burn this version of me to the ground if it means you won't see her when you open your eyes. I'll be unrecognizable, a stranger standing by your bed, nothing but dust left of the girl you knew. And you know what? I'll do it if I have to. I don't care what I lose or what I become in the process. I'll be reborn if that's what it takes. Because when you wake up, Sajimi—if you wake up—you deserve to see someone who has earned your forgiveness. Not this monster in the mirror who took every innocent piece of you and shattered it.

Maybe I should hate myself. Maybe I should be lying in the same bed you're in, paying the price. But no, that's not what you wanted, is it? You wanted me to find out who I am. To figure it out before I did this to anyone else. That's why I can't walk away from this promise. Because if I do, it means you suffered for nothing. It means all those tears, all that hurt—your whole damn life was just fodder for my entertainment. And that's the one thing I won't let myself believe. Not anymore.

This promise is all I have left, Sajimi.

Because, as always, I am not a good person.

With love,

Sakuraba Hajime.

Akihiko was hunched intently over the chessboard, his gaze sharp and focused, red eyes flickering with the concentration of someone who rarely allowed for distractions. The smooth, obsidian surface of the pieces gleamed under the lamplight, their stark silhouettes casting shadows across the table. Each move was deliberate, his fingers hovering over a knight before he carefully shifted it forward. This was his form of training. Probably not as glamorous as it was for others, but it worked for him. He glanced up only once, catching sight of his companion, who was now working through what had to be her fourth heaping bowl of purin.

Mizuki's bright eyes gleamed with the fervor of someone who considered dessert a blood sport. Her mop of messy purple hair swayed with each overenthusiastic spoonful, a gleeful storm of curls that framed her face like a halo gone wild. She had never been one to do anything halfway, especially not eating. Akihiko had learned that early on; questioning her seemingly bottomless appetite for sweets was like questioning gravity. Her sheer presence filled the space with a buoyant energy that bordered on absurd. She was chaos itself in an oversized sweater, a burst of color against the otherwise muted tones of his room. He could almost feel the walls of his mentor's home sighing in relief at the lively intrusion, breathing warmth into the cold, utilitarian setting he'd maintained for years.

"Can you believe it?" Mizuki chirped between bites, the spoon still in her mouth as if to emphasize each word with sugary punctuation. "We're actually going to be graduating from Meiyo this year! It's wild, right? Feels like just yesterday we were getting recruited, and now we're practically pros!"

Akihiko gave a faint hum, only half-listening as he nudged a rook forward. He didn't respond, but the corner of his mouth twitched with the ghost of a smile, one that disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.

A low, languid chuckle cut through the cozy noise, its tone tinged with an eerie sort of amusement that seemed more at home in an abandoned manor than in a modern academy dorm. A figure leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms folded, head tilted in a way that lent her an otherworldly elegance. This girl, tall and spectral, with skin as pale as frostbite and black eyes so hollow they seemed to drink in the light, was as incongruous in this room as a haunting in a summer cottage. Her black hair fell in waves, stark and flawless, cascading down her shoulders like ink spilled across marble.

"Hard to believe they're really letting us loose on the world," she drawled, her voice slow and oddly musical, with a faintly recognizable American lilt that somehow managed to sound lazy "Honestly, the day they told me we'd be using our quirks in a 'school-approved setting,' I thought they were joking." A slow smirk curved her lips, amused but distant, like she was only half invested in the conversation. "And let's be real, tryin' to make a death-based quirk safe for school is kind of a joke in itself. But hey," she shrugged, offering a sly, half-manic smile, "we made it work. Mostly."

"You bet we did, Kaede-san!" Mizuki chirped, her spoon clinking against the empty bottom of the purin dish as she stood and stretched with a self-satisfied sigh. "I mean, they tried to stick me in Haruboshi only! Can you believe that!? Luckily, I proved that I was Meiyo material in my first year, with the help of HERACLES, that is! If not for me making him, then I doubt that I'd ever get the chance to meet the both of you!"

"Speaking of HERACLES," he began, arching a skeptical brow, "you did make sure to keep him under wraps, right? I'd rather not have the faculty breathing down our necks before graduation."

Mizuki waved off his concern with a flick of her hand, a carefree laugh bubbling from her as she leaned back against the wall. "Don't worry your serious little head, Akihiko-kun," she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm not that reckless! HERACLES is out of sight, across the world for now. A guy my mom knows on I-Island is handling some special maintenance, and they're testing new updates I've been cooking up."

She folded her arms across her chest, the spark of ambition brightening her gaze. "They're reworking some functions, enhancing a few systems, the whole works! Once he's back, he'll be in top form, ready for anything. Pretty good for an eighteen-year-old, right? Just wait till graduation—I'm going to be unstoppable!"

"I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be something special," Kaede said, flipping her hair from her eyes. "But I'd never thought I'd see you use your Quirk to make HERACLES so good that it totally made you a major player and "Big 3" member with me and Akihiko."

Akihiko grimaced. He never cared much for titles. He barely wanted to choose his own hero name, but the 'Big 3' title was something that he was never a huge fan of in the first place. It felt gratuitous, in a way.

"Please," Akihiko muttered, adjusting a bishop. "I didn't come here for the spotlight. Just to survive and... well, get good at doing my job." He shifted his gaze briefly to Kaede, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "And if that means being lumped in with you two chaotic souls, so be it."

"Oooh, don't be such a killjoy, Akihiko-kun!" Mizuki whined, waving her spoon around like a conductor's baton. "We're the Big Three! That means we're the strongest, coolest, most unbreakable trio in the academy! Doesn't that make you feel anything?"

Kaede's smirk broadened, her gaze drifting over her friends with a kind of lazy fondness. "He's just being modest." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her voice dropping to a mockingly grave tone. "But you know, Mizuki, he's right about survival. We didn't make it this far just to slack off. Meiyo's got its secrets, and it didn't pick us for our, you know, sparkling personalities." Her words hung in the air, cool but charged with the weight of a shared understanding. "We're getting into some… heavy shit when we graduate."

"True, true," Mizuki relented, plopping onto the armchair beside the chessboard. "But c'mon, we're practically family at this point, aren't we? We went through that entire gauntlet together. We've had, like, a thousand near-death experiences, and somehow we're still here, eating purin and playing chess. If that's not a sign of Meiyo's finest, I don't know what is!" She grinned wide, her eyes lighting up as if the whole world were just as bright and ridiculous as she saw it.

Akihiko sighed, scratching his head. "I guess it's true," he admitted, finally letting a soft smile slip. "I wouldn't have come this far without... you two pushing me. Especially you, Mizuki, with all your bullshit."

"Love you too," she said, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Kaede's soft chuckle rose as Mizuki's enthusiasm filled the room. "I have to admit," she said, crossing her legs and settling in, "I didn't expect much when I first came to Meiyo. But I'd have been bored stiff without you two. In all honesty, I didn't even know I'd make it to graduation. But you..." she paused, her voice softening, "both of you kept me steady."

For a moment, a quiet understanding passed between them. They were the Big Three, yes, but the title was more than just a flashy label. It represented everything they'd been through—the painful training, the injuries, the sleepless nights, and the countless close calls that had forged them into a team.

"But enough with the sentimental stuff!" Mizuki exclaimed, breaking the silence with a wave of her empty bowl. "We have plans to discuss!"

"Plans?" Akihiko raised an eyebrow.

"Yes! Graduation's just around the corner, and we need to celebrate it right!" she declared, jumping up as if her chair had suddenly caught fire. "I've been thinking of a whole lineup of pranks—I mean, surprises—for our dear underclassmen. Something to really make them remember us."

Kaede grinned, her eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "Mizuki, you're a fucking menace."

"Maybe, but I'm a menace with a plan!" Mizuki winked. "I'm going to rig their dorm rooms to activate with my Quirk. Imagine the chaos when they wake up to find everything moving at double speed!"

Akihiko sighed, shaking his head with a laugh he didn't bother hiding this time. "You never change, Mizuki. Plus, Miko-Chan will be on your ass before you know what hits you."

"And thank god for that." Kaede added.

A wave of silence was prevalent, and it remained that way for almost an entire minute before Akihiko watched Mizuki's playful grin fade. He watched her stare into the valley of her purin bowl before she finally spoke up.

"I wonder what they're going to be like. The first years, I mean." She looked between Ahikihiko and Kaede, her brows knitted, as though she was searching for an answer neither of them could give. "I remember how you both described your first day. The mad scramble where they threw you guys right into that simulation, no warm-up, no warning… they wanted to see if you'd crack before things even began. They made me do something similar when they decided to take a chance on me and HERACLES."

Akihiko held back a groan in remembrance. "Hard to forget," he murmured, the weight of the words settling over him. "Feels like it was yesterday." He leaned back in his chair the chessboard all but forgotten as he stared at the ceiling, recalling every brutal test, every challenge they'd faced just to prove they were worthy of the academy's secrets. "It wasn't exactly a friendly welcome."

Kaede's gaze softened. "I think that was the point," she said quietly. "Meiyo doesn't do hand-holding. They wanted to weed out anyone who couldn't handle the pressure. Every test, every obstacle—they weren't just assessing our skills. They were stripping us down, layer by layer, to see who'd snap and who'd stand." She paused, her dark eyes reflecting the dim glow of the room. "And we lost people along the way. Remember Daisuke? And Reina? Both of them just… vanished by the second month."

Mizuki nodded, a rare solemnity in her eyes. "Yeah. I thought about them for a long time afterward. They had so much potential, but… maybe they didn't know what they were getting into." She hugged her knees to her chest, looking suddenly small and fragile. "What if the first years don't understand what Meiyo is really about? We barely understood it ourselves until… well, until we had to."

"They'll understand soon enough," Akihiko replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "If they're here, it's because they have nowhere else to go. Meiyo doesn't take just anyone; they take the ones who have something to prove. The ones who don't fit in with the bright, polished heroes-in-training. Untraceable-sensei will make sure of that."

"Ha!" Kaede scoffed. "With Untraceable-sensei as their teacher, they're going to be in for a rough start. Korrupt-sensei is scary, but he's much calmer. Untraceable is a different fucking animal. She's old-school, though. She spent two years in the… less generous version of Meiyo Academy. Wonder-Worlder didn't take over until her third year."

Kaede's lips curled in a smirk. She mimicked Zara's voice, low and laced with that biting, almost amused tone that they'd come to associate with her peculiar brand of mentorship. "First thing you brats need to know is that I don't give a damn about your feelings. Or your ideas of right and wrong. What I care about is making sure that if you survive this place, you'll know how to survive anywhere."

Akihiko could almost hear Zara's voice, the way it had sent chills down their spines on that first day, her tone as sharp as her claymore, which rested on her hip like a constant reminder of who she was and where she came from.

"Remember the way she'd curse us out?" Mizuki muttered, a half-smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "She didn't hold back. She'd get right up in your face and let you have it. But… she always had a point, didn't she?"

Akihiko nodded slowly, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. She'd call us 'stupid kids' and worse, but you couldn't deny her logic. She had this way of breaking down your defenses, calling out every flaw, every crack in your armor. She could see right through you, but somehow… it never felt cruel."

They fell silent, each lost in their own memory of Zara. Akihiko always felt like she was a whirlwind of contradictions—a relentless drill sergeant with an arsenal of cutting words and a penchant for merciless critique, but beneath it all, they'd seen the rare moments where her real motives shone through.

The time she'd stayed with Akihiko in the med bay after a particularly grueling training session. The day she'd let Mizuki cry out her frustration in her office, listening without a word, her hand resting on Mizuki's shoulder with a patience that no one else had ever shown her. And the moment she'd given Kaede that claymore of hers as a temporary weapon during a particularly dangerous exercise.

"Remember that time," he began, his voice low, "when she put us through that survival training in the forest? To figure it out on our own? I thought I was going to break."

Kaede laughed softly, her gaze distant as she relived the memory. "Oh, I remember. She was watching us the whole time, wasn't she? Pretending she wasn't, just waiting to see if we'd make it through. But she was there, the entire time. Ready to step in if we were really in danger. I saw her once, on the second night, standing just behind the trees, her eyes like… like a hawk, watching every move we made."

"And she'd never admit it," Mizuki added. "But she was looking out for us, making sure we'd get through it."

Akihiko let out a long, slow breath, his hand falling from the chess piece as he looked up at his friends, a new determination in his gaze. "Whatever the new students are like, they'll be in good hands with her. If they can survive Zara Qadir, they'll survive anything."

Kaede smirked, a flicker of pride in her eyes as she straightened, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "They'll survive, alright. And maybe one day, they'll even understand what it means to be here. To be part of this."

Akihiko could agree with that.

"Indeed," he said, her voice ringing softly, "they'll be standing right where we are, wondering how they made it this far. And they'll know… they'll know what it means to be Meiyo's finest."

But first, before they know anything else, they'll know how to get pissed off. Akihiko couldn't lie. He wanted to get a front-row seat for that.

Ugh, holy shit, this site is a hassle. FanFiction's PM system is completely broken right now, and I wanted to pop in and clarify this before anyone thinks I'm leaving them hanging. If you've sent me questions or character submissions and haven't heard back, it's not because I'm ignoring you, I promise! It's all on FF's side with the messaging system acting up, sigh.

I hadn't planned on making an update for this alone, but I really didn't want anyone to feel like I'm ghosting them. So please bear with me while they (hopefully) work things out. In the meantime, I've made a burner account for Discord that you can message to get a hold of me or to send your character via google docs. Maybe if I know you're decent and you've proven not to be a weirdo, I'll give you my real one… but, for now, my discord name is heartsdead.

Byeeeeee!