Chapter Seven – The Lecture and The Hidden Supporter

Clay didn't bother changing out of his hero costume. It suited him too well; he could've worn it every day for the rest of his life. Besides, since he'd been called into the principal's office out of the blue, he figured he'd need every bit of comfort he could get.

He'd thought the days of reporting to a principal were behind him after high school, but here he was again, being summoned.

There was something unsettling about taking the shuttle alone, though thankfully the ride was brief. The main challenge, though, was finding the principal's office. Unlike an airport, there weren't any signs to point him in the right direction.

Clay wandered the hallways, feeling a bit like he'd been dropped into a maze. U.A. was impressive, but its endless corridors and imposing architecture made it easy to feel lost. After what felt like a few wrong turns, he finally saw a plaque that read Principal Nezu mounted beside a heavy wooden door. Taking a deep breath, he took off his hat and knocked.

"Come in!" came a high, cheerful voice from within.

Opening the door, Clay's eyes landed on the small, fuzzy figure behind the desk: Principal Nezu, who looked like some kind of cross between a bear, a dog, a rat, and… something else. The principal wore a crisp suit and was sipping tea, smiling up at him with an unsettling intelligence.

"Mr. Derreks!" Nezu greeted warmly, gesturing for Clay to sit. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I trust your first week has been... enlightening?"

The principal wasn't alone. On one side of his desk stood Aizawa, his expression unreadable. On the other side stood someone Clay could only describe as an astronaut—a figure in a bulky spacesuit with a black dome for a helmet.

Clay settled into the chair, nodding politely, though he couldn't hide his curiosity. "Didn't expect a summons this soon, sir," he admitted, resting his hands on his knees.

"You threatened to throw another student out of a window today," Nezu said, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.

Under his sleeve, Clay felt Skipper twitch, a faint rush of adrenaline accompanying the realization that he was, in fact, in trouble. Still, he'd said what he'd said, and he stood by it. "It wasn't a threat, sir."

"We saw the whole exchange," Aizawa replied, his tone flat.

Clay met his gaze steadily. "It wasn't a threat. It was a promise."

Nezu's small paws were clasped together on the desk, his expression both amused and unreadable. "Mr. Derreks, while I admire your straightforwardness, I should clarify that this is an educational institution—not a bar or a hunting trip. Certain… expressions might be perceived as aggressive by your classmates, even if your intentions are noble."

"Mineta got a certain gratification watchin' two classmates struggle while restrained, instead of helpin' 'em get loose when the exercise was over. That's dangerous. I just made my thoughts plain. If I see him outta line again, he's goin' headfirst through the nearest window." Clay's voice was clear and measured, a hint of Aizawa's steady tone slipping in, though his usual casualness was gone.

"Keeping students in line is our job, not yours," Aizawa replied, arms crossed, a faint hint of a smile barely visible. "We're aware of his habits, and we'll step in if he takes things too far."

Nezu nodded, his expression softening just slightly. "Your instinct to protect others, Clay, even in unconventional ways, is admirable. But here at U.A., there's a balance. We're cultivating heroes who use their power responsibly, and that includes handling situations with restraint."

"Is there anythin' else?" Clay asked, feeling a bit unsettled by the fact that he was sitting while two instructors stood over him.

"Yes," Nezu replied, his small mouth curved into a smile. "Have you wondered who recommended you for U.A.?"

"I been tryin' to figure that out," Clay muttered, relieved at the change in subject. He turned to the astronaut-like figure. "Was it you?"

A woman's voice crackled from inside the helmet. "Yes. I'm Thirteen."

Clay blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he sized her up. He hadn't expected his mysterious advocate to be standing right in front of him, let alone in a spacesuit. "You're the one who pulled for me?" he asked, a hint of curiosity breaking through his usual guarded demeanor.

Thirteen nodded, the black visor of her helmet hiding her expression but not the warmth in her tone. "Yes. I've seen quirks like yours only a handful of times in my career—Are you familiar with the Canadian hero Whitefeather?"

"I am not."

"He had a summoning Quirk much like yours, but he could summon birds. He was able to develop his Quirk to the point where if he focused, he could see through the eyes of his birds. When I found that someone could summon rats in much the same way, I insisted that you come here."

"I might… be able to see through my rats?"

"I suspect so. Just think about how useful that will be in rescue operations. Your rats could travel through rubble with ease, spotting survivors safely."

Clay leaned back in his seat, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "I only got sent to hero school because I like fightin'."

Thirteen gave a soft chuckle, the sound crackling slightly through her helmet's speaker. "Well, I'm sure that side of you will come in handy during your training here, too. But there's more to hero work than combat. And if you're willing to push yourself, you might find new ways to use your quirk that you hadn't considered."

Aizawa crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. "At U.A., we train heroes to handle every aspect of the job. Fighting, yes, but also problem-solving, protecting, and even managing difficult situations where no one gets hurt. It's not about what brought you here, Clay—it's about what you choose to do now that you're here."

Nezu leaned forward, his small paws steepled on his desk. "If it helps, consider it a different kind of hunt. You're still tracking down a target, finding your way through the unknown. But now, you're seeking out ways to protect and rescue as well."

Clay was silent for a while. He didn't care much for the idea of becoming a rescue-focused hero, but now it seemed like he wouldn't have much of a choice. The only reason he was here was because someone saw his potential as a rescue hero. "I don't mind helpin' people, but… I don't know. I was plannin' on fightin'. I'm good at it."

"How about this?" Thirteen asked. There was something distant about the way her voice crackled from her helmet. It reminded Clay of when his mom would put him and Skipper down for bed, and he'd fall asleep to the sound of her voice talking on the phone. Clay was almost uncomfortable with how comforting it was. "Later this week, we'll be holding class at the U.S.J., where you and your classmates will get an introduction to emergency rescue. See if it grows on you then."

Clay thought about it, letting her words settle as he turned the idea over in his head. "Alright. Guess it couldn't hurt to see what it's all about."

Thirteen nodded, her helmet catching the light as she seemed to smile beneath the visor, or at least Clay assumed she was smiling. The dome was otherwise featureless save for the two, bold white eyes. "Good. I think you'll surprise yourself. Rescue work isn't about giving up the fight. Sometimes, it is the fight."

Nezu clasped his hands thoughtfully. "What kind of hero you are is up to you. I encourage you to keep an open mind."

Clay nodded stiffly. "Never thought I'd be a hero. Guess I haven't thought of it…," he muttered. He tried to keep an open mind, but he simply couldn't imagine being a hero without fighting for a living. "Guess I'll be goin' now."

Aizawa, who had been leaning against the wall at this point, gave a faint sigh, pushing himself upright. "Just make sure you're ready for the U.S.J.," he said, voice low and blunt. "We're expecting you to step up. Don't make us regret bringing you here." His words had an edge to them, but his gaze held something subtler—a trace of encouragement, buried deep.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Clay replied, offering a faint grin. He tugged his hat on, then turned to leave, footsteps echoing lightly down the hall. "Expecting me to step up…" he muttered, reaching under his sleeve to put Skipper back up on his shoulder. "Gotta say, he knows how to motivate me."