Izuku loathes his role in UA. Why does he have to be in Class 1-A? Is All Might an idiot? Or does he need to be watched over like a fawn? Does he not trust him to make his own decisions? Or does he think putting him in a class with a hero who can erase his quirk would be safe—not just for him, but for others? Katsuki's presence makes the situation worse. He has to deal with him, a worthless distraction. All Might is making the plan worse; Akira believes Izuku should lay low for the first few weeks or months. People would think he is harmless. It won't take long before people start asking questions. How did Izuku get into UA without an exam? They're going to look for answers from Izuku, if not the school.

Izuku stood in the middle of the chamber, letting his anger flow through his body as he let the Sharingan flare. The crimson glow of his eyes cast eerie shadows across the dark, stone walls of the Hideout. His breath came in slow, measured exhales as he tried to steady his mind, but the frustration gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

He clenched his fists, feeling the sharp sting of his nails digging into his palms. The power coursing through him was intoxicating, but it wasn't enough to dull the edge of his anger. He hated being controlled, hated that All Might thought he could just place him wherever he wanted, like a chess piece on a board. Did All Might really believe he was so fragile that he needed to be coddled, protected from the world around him?

"Pathetic," Izuku muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper in the empty chamber. The word hung in the air, echoing back to him, a reminder of the scorn he felt for his current situation.

The Sharingan whirled, its tomoe spinning faster as his anger grew. Izuku knew he couldn't let this rage consume him—he had to stay focused, to keep his eye on the ultimate goal. But the pressure was suffocating, and every day in UA felt like a chain tightening around his neck. The thought of having to endure classes, of pretending to be just another student, while Katsuki prowled around like a rabid dog, ready to bite at any moment, made his blood boil.

"Focus," he hissed through gritted teeth, forcing his mind back to the present. He couldn't afford to lose control, not now. Not when so much was at stake.

He took a deep breath, the cold air of the chamber filling his lungs. The Uchiha Clan had always valued control—control of power, emotion, and destiny. He had to remember that. His path was one of vengeance, of justice. He would not allow himself to be distracted by the petty concerns of a classroom or the idiotic decisions of All Might.

But the frustration still lingered, a constant undercurrent in his thoughts. How was he supposed to focus on his mission when every day at UA felt like a farce? How could he pretend to be a hero-in-training when all he cared about was becoming strong enough to face Itachi?

Izuku's hands began to tremble, and the strain of keeping his anger in check started to wear on him. The Sharingan flared brighter, the tomoe spinning so fast it was almost a blur. He needed to channel this energy, this fury, into something productive

He turned sharply, his eyes landing on a row of wooden dummies lined up against the far wall. Without a second thought, he lunged at the nearest one, his movements fluid and precise. His fists connected with the wood, sending splinters flying with each strike. He moved like a whirlwind, every punch and kick a release of the pent-up frustration that had been building since his first day at UA.

Each hit resonated with the echo of his anger, the wood cracking and breaking under the force of his blows. But the gnawing dissatisfaction remained even as the dummies shattered beneath his fists. It wasn't enough. None of this was enough.

Izuku stopped, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the exertion. He stared at the broken remains of the dummies, feeling no satisfaction in their destruction. His eyes, still glowing with the red light of the Sharingan, narrowed in frustration.

"What am I doing?" he muttered, his voice rough with fatigue and anger. He knew this was pointless. Beating on dummies wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make All Might see him for what he truly was and wouldn't bring him closer to his goal.

But what choice did he have? He was stuck in this charade, forced to play the part of a hero-in-training while the real fight, the fight that mattered, loomed on the horizon.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, his hand coming away stained with a mix of blood and grime. The sight of it, the stark red against his pale skin, brought a twisted smile to his lips. Blood... it was always about blood in the end, wasn't it?

The blood of his clan, the blood of his enemies, and eventually, his own. It was the currency of the Uchiha, the price paid for power, for vengeance. And he was more than willing to pay for it.

But for now, he had to bide his time. He had to play the part, endure the farce of UA, and wait for the moment when he could finally unleash everything he had been holding back.

Izuku took one last look at the shattered dummies, his smile fading as the reality of his situation settled back over him like a shroud. He couldn't afford to lose focus. The path ahead was long and treacherous, and every misstep could be fatal.

He would endure. He would grow stronger. And when the time came, he would ensure that everyone—All Might, Katsuki, and especially Itachi—knew exactly what he was capable of.

For now, though, he would wait. But his time would come. And when it did, nothing would stand in his way.

With one final deep breath, Izuku extinguished the Sharingan, the red glow fading from his eyes as he forced himself to calm down. Once filled with the sounds of his fury, the chamber was now eerily silent. The only sound was his own steady and controlled breathing.

He turned away from the wreckage, his mind already shifting back to the plans he had laid out with Akira. There was still so much to do, so much to prepare for. UA was just a stepping stone, a means to an end. He wouldn't let it distract him from what really mattered.

Izuku began to make his way out of the chamber, the shadows closing around him as he moved. He was alone in this, just as he had always been. But that was fine. He didn't need anyone else.

All he needed was the strength to see this through. And that, he would find—no matter what it took.

Izuku felt the cold morning air hit his face as he emerged from the Hideout. The mist clung to the ground, swirling around his feet like ghosts of the past that refused to leave him. It was early, too early for most people to be awake, but Izuku couldn't afford to waste time. He had to return to UA, had to put on the mask of the dutiful student while the real work simmered beneath the surface.

As he walked through the quiet streets, the city still half-asleep, his thoughts returned to the inevitability of his mission. Every day at UA was a test of his patience, a game he was forced to play. But he was learning, observing, and biding his time. Every lesson, every interaction, every encounter with his classmates was another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

He thought about Katsuki again, how his former friend looked at him now—with confusion, suspicion, and barely veiled hostility. Katsuki was a problem, a distraction, but one that Izuku knew he would eventually have to deal with. It was only a matter of time before their paths collided in a way that neither of them could walk away from. Izuku wasn't sure what that confrontation would look like, but he knew it was coming. And he would be ready.

UA's towering gates loomed in the distance, a symbol of the institution's might and prestige. But to Izuku, it was just another cage, another obstacle in his path. He would walk through those gates, sit in those classrooms, and pretend to care about becoming a hero. But his true focus would never waver. He was an Uchiha, and his destiny was one of blood and vengeance, not of capes and glory.

As he approached the school, the first few students were beginning to arrive, their faces bright with the optimism of a new day. They chatted in small groups, laughing and joking as if the world was theirs for the taking. Izuku watched them with a mixture of detachment and disdain. They were so naive, so unaware of the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface of their society. They had no idea what true strength or sacrifice looked like. They were playing at being heroes while Izuku was preparing for a war.

He slipped into the building unnoticed, his footsteps silent on the polished floors. The hallways were still mostly empty, and the classrooms were dark. He liked it this way—quiet, a moment of peace before the charade began again.

Izuku made his way to Class 1-A, his thoughts already drifting to the day ahead. He knew what was expected of him: sit, listen, learn. But he also knew that every second he spent in that classroom was another second closer to his goal. He would use the time wisely, honing his skills, gathering information, and staying under the radar until the moment was right.

The classroom was empty when he arrived, except for a few early risers already seated, books open in front of them. Izuku slid into his seat, keeping his head down, his mind focused. He knew that Katsuki and the rest of the class would be arriving soon. He could feel the weight of the stares, the whispers that would start as soon as more students filtered in. They didn't trust him. They didn't understand him. And that was exactly how he wanted it.

The minutes ticked by, and the classroom slowly filled with the other students. Izuku kept his eyes forward, ignoring the buzz of conversation around him. He could feel Katsuki's presence as soon as the other boy entered the room, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. But Izuku didn't react. He couldn't afford to. Not yet.

Instead, he let his mind drift to the lessons he drilled into himself . Patience. Control. Focus. Those were the keys to success, the tools that would allow him to achieve his goal. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him or let his anger at All Might, at Katsuki, and at the world cloud his judgment. He had to stay sharp, stay vigilant, and keep his eyes on the prize.

The door to the classroom slid open with a soft click, and Izuku didn't need to look up to know who it was. Aizawa, their homeroom teacher, strolled in, his usual tired expression firmly in place. The man was an enigma, a hero who seemed to care very little for the heroics that the rest of the world idolized. Izuku respected that about him, in a way. Aizawa didn't play the game and didn't care about the spotlight. He was a means to an end, just like UA itself.

"Settle down," Aizawa said in his usual monotone, not even bothering to raise his voice. The class quieted almost immediately, the students instinctively falling in line. "Today, we will begin combat trials. This class will be taught by—"

"Me!"

Izuku's head snapped toward the door as the booming voice filled the room. All Might stood, larger than life, his iconic grin plastered across his face. The sheer presence of the man seemed to suck the air out of the room, leaving the students in awe. But Izuku felt none of that admiration. Instead, a knot of frustration tightened in his chest.

All Might strode into the classroom, radiating confidence and energy. He glanced around at the students, his smile never faltering. "Good morning, future heroes!" he declared, his voice as powerful as ever. "Today, we'll be putting your combat skills to the test!"

The room buzzed excitedly, the students eager to prove themselves in front of the Number One Hero. But Izuku remained silent, his expression unreadable. He could feel Katsuki's eyes on him and could sense the tension between them building with each passing second. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid—being put in the spotlight, forced to show his hand before he was ready.

"Is this really necessary?" Izuku thought bitterly. Combat trials on the second day? It was a blatant attempt to see what they could do, to gauge his abilities, and he knew All Might was behind it. The man couldn't just leave well enough alone. He had to push and pry to see what made Izuku tick.

"All right!" All Might continued, clapping his hands together with enough force to make the windows rattle. "Suit up and meet me at the training ground! Today, you'll be facing off against each other in a series of battles designed to test your strength, strategy, and teamwork. Don't hold back—show me what you're made of!"

All Might reached into his pocket, grabbed a remote control, and pressed a button. The walls shook, the windows rattled. The classroom's walls shifted with a mechanical hum, revealing rows of costume cases lined against the newly exposed walls. Each case held a personalized hero costume explicitly designed for the students. The sight of the suits ignited a spark of excitement among the classmates. He could care less about hero costumes or the theatrics that came with them. His mission was far more important than appearances. The thought of donning the outfit and pretending to be a hero made his skin crawl. But he knew he had no choice. Not yet.

"Your costumes have been designed based on the specifications you submitted," All Might explained, "These suits are more than just symbols—they're tools to help you maximize your quirks and abilities in combat. Take a moment to suit up, and then we'll head to the training ground."

The students eagerly gathered around their individual cases, marveling at the sleek designs and discussing the details with each other. Izuku approached his own case slowly. His eyes focused on the outfit inside. The suit was simple but functional. The one-piece black jacket, made of thick, fire-proof, and nonconductive material, offered protection from blunt forces and minimized chafing. Alongside it was a black flak jacket with numerous pouches to organize and carry essential tools neatly. It was exactly how he wanted it. Then he glanced toward the mask. It was white and in the shape of a dog's face. Finally, there was the sword given to him by All Might, with the Uchiha crest covered in black bandaging.

Izuku's gaze lingered on the sword for a moment longer than the rest of his gear. The blade, sheathed and wrapped in black bandages, seemed almost out of place among the more modern elements of his costume. But it was needed.

He strapped the sword to his back, the sheath settling comfortably against the flak jacket. The rest of the costume came together quickly, the black jacket fitting snugly over his frame, the pouches on the flak jacket securing into place. The final piece was the mask. Izuku hesitated for just a moment before slipping it on, the world around him shifting slightly as his vision adjusted to the narrow eye slits. The white dog's face stared back at him from the reflective surface of the costume case. It was expressionless.

Izuku turned away from the case, his costume now complete. He felt the eyes of his classmates on him as he moved, their curiosity and confusion palpable. But he paid them no mind. They could wonder all they wanted about the boy behind the mask, but none of them would ever truly understand what drove him.

"All right, everyone!" All Might's voice boomed through the room, snapping the students' attention back to him. "Let's head out to the training ground! It's time to see what you're made of!"

The class filed out of the room, their excitement building with each step. Izuku followed at the back of the group, his mind already calculating the possibilities. He knew what was coming—combat trials meant facing off against his classmates, likely in one-on-one matches. It was exactly the kind of test All Might would use to assess their abilities. And it was exactly the kind of test Izuku had been dreading.

As they approached the training ground, the vast expanse of the arena came into view. It was a sprawling, complex environment designed to simulate various combat scenarios. Buildings, obstacles, and open spaces stretched out before them, offering countless opportunities for strategy and surprise. Izuku could see the students' excitement growing as they took in the sight, but for him, it was just another stage for the performance he was forced to give.

All Might led them to the center of the training ground, where he turned to address the class. "Today, you'll be engaging in combat trials to test your skills in real-world scenarios. Each of you will be paired with a classmate, and your goal is to either defeat your opponent or secure a strategic advantage. Remember, this isn't just about raw power—it's about strategy, control, and using your quirks to their fullest potential."

Izuku kept his focus on All Might, his mind already spinning through the possibilities. He needed to be careful, to show just enough to satisfy All Might without revealing too much. He couldn't afford to draw attention, especially not with the eyes of UA's staff and students on him. He also mustn't use his Sharingan. According to All Might's deal to let him enter UA, Izuku is not allowed to use quirk under any circumstance or else. He isn't sure what'll happen, but Izuku doesn't want to see the consequences.

"All right, first up," All Might called out, staring at a list in his hand. "Midoriya Izuku and Uraraka, you are Team A!"

Izuku's mind raced at the announcement. His mind had been racing through potential scenarios, but this pairing with Uraraka caught him off guard. Uraraka, with her bubbly personality and seemingly innocent demeanor, was not who he had anticipated to be his partner in the first combat trial. But then again, nothing about this day had gone the way he'd hoped. He glanced at her, seeing the determination in her eyes and a hint of nervousness. She was serious about this, ready to prove herself, and he knew she wouldn't hold back.

But he couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of fairness or camaraderie. Uraraka might be his partner, but Izuku knew that he would have to navigate this trial carefully—avoiding any display of his true abilities while ensuring they didn't lose. All Might's watchful gaze would miss nothing.

Uraraka approached him with a small, encouraging smile. "Let's give it our best, Deku!" she said as All Might said the list for the rest of the teams.

Izuku glances at Uraraka, "What did you call me?" he asks, ensuring his tone isn't harsh.

Uraraka stares back nervously, "Deku? Did I say something work?"

Izuku stared at her momentarily, the word "Deku" echoing in his mind. It was a name Katsuki had given him that had always felt like a curse, a reminder of how powerless he had once been. But there was no malice in Uraraka's eyes, only a kind of innocent enthusiasm that Izuku found both disarming and unsettling.

He forced himself to relax, to push down the surge of irritation that threatened to bubble up. This wasn't the time to get caught up in old wounds. He needed to stay focused and keep his emotions in check.

"It's nothing," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Let's just focus on the trial."

Uraraka nodded, her smile widening as if relieved by his response. "Right! We can do this, Deku!" she said again, the nickname now carrying a different weight, one that Izuku wasn't sure how to feel about.

As the rest of the teams were announced, Izuku quickly assessed the situation. He and Uraraka were paired against Bakugo, Iida... and Minato? Of course,

Izuku thought there were twenty-one of them. So, All Might put the odd team against him. What game was he playing?

He hadn't been expecting that. Izuku had observed Minato during Aizawa's exam and recognized the overwhelming potential in the boy. Minato was fast and intelligent, but Izuku wasn't sure what his power output was compared to Katsuki. But paring him with Katsuki and Iida wasn't just a challenge; it was practically a setup.

"Great," Izuku muttered under his breath, his mind already racing through possible strategies. He glanced at Uraraka, who was oblivious to the weight of the situation. For her, this was a challenge but nothing more. She had no idea just how dangerous this trial could become.

The groups moved to their designated positions, and Izuku felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He could sense Katsuki's barely restrained aggression, the eagerness to confront him head-on. Iida, ever the strategist, would be methodical, analyzing every move. And then there was Minato, the wild card—calm, collected, and entirely unpredictable.

Uraraka's voice broke through his thoughts. "So, Deku, what's the plan? How do we handle this?"

Izuku stood silent momentarily. "I'm not sure, but don't worry," he said while giving her a thumbs-up, "We'll win."