Special thanks to Debug000 for beta-reading this chapter.

Chapter 17

The First Spotlight

[Two more years later…]

It was 11 o'clock at night when Nemuri found herself in her laundry room, dressed casually in a black sleeveless tank top with thin shoulder straps and hot pink shorts that stood out in the bright light. She loaded her clothes into the washing machine, determined to have everything fresh and ready to hang up by morning before heading off to U.A. Once done, she scanned the room for Izuku's laundry basket but came up empty.

"Maybe he forgot it again," she murmured softly, her brows drawing together in concern. Lately, Izuku had been a little more forgetful than usual, and unease crept into her thoughts. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was carrying too much on his shoulders—something all too common for boys his age.

With a sigh, she stepped out of the laundry room and made her way toward Izuku's door, moving with lazy strides. As she approached, she rapped gently on the wood but received only silence in return. A twinge of confusion twisted within her as she knocked once more, listening intently for any sign from him.

Her eyebrows knitted into a worried frown as she grasped the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open with a gentle creak. Instantly, she was met with a shadowy room, where a figure lay comfortably on the bed, swathed in a blanket that hid all but a hint of messy green hair.

"Izuku," she called softly, but the only reply was silence. A flicker of disbelief danced through her mind. "Did he really fall asleep?" The thought struck her with surprise. "That Iida kid must be having some kind of positive influence on him," she murmured while shaking her head in exasperation.

But then another worry tugged at her heart. "I just hope he's not rubbing off on Iida in any bad way." The image of Iida's brother storming into her office like an angry bird flashed before her eyes, and she couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the thought.

She stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning for Izuku's laundry basket. Spotting it near the bedside table adorned with a picture frame of his mother, she bent at the waist to retrieve it. As she did, something caught her attention: a crumpled piece of tissue paper lurking beneath the bed. She blinked in surprise before narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Curiosity piqued, she reached down to pull out tissue finding it rough and crinkled, as if it was used to clean something sticky. She instantly recognized its grimy purpose. Nemuri sucked in a breath through her teeth and shook her head with a mix of disbelief and exasperation. Guess Izuku WAS at that age where he got 'curious' with his body. Without hesitation, she tossed it into the nearby trashcan; no need to discuss that with Izuku right now—she would save that for later.

With the basket securely tucked under her arm, she turned toward the door but paused for just a moment. Glancing back at Izuku's bed one last time, she couldn't help but smirk when she noticed the blanket shift ever so slightly as if he were stirring from slumber. With an amused shake of her head and a playful gleam in her eye, she shut the door behind her, deliberately making sure it clicked loudly against its frame.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

The blaring voice of the Symbol of Peace echoed through the room, the heroic mantra of an alarm clock shattering the morning silence. Perched on a cluttered bedside table, the device continued its energetic chant until a hand shot out from beneath a tangle of blankets and silenced it with a sluggish, uncoordinated slap.

A groggy grumble followed as the blanket was tossed aside, revealing a boy in his early teens—fourteen years old, with messy green hair streaked with faint silver highlights. Izuku Midoriya, the destined protagonist of this story, sat up with a dazed expression, his heavy eyelids blinking rapidly as he struggled to reclaim his grip on reality.

His mind clung to the fading remnants of a strange dream—one that left an unsettling weight in his chest. All Might had been there, but not as the unshakable pillar of strength Izuku idolized. Instead, he had been... different. Too cheerful. Too loud. Too noisy.

'Fountain of Youth.' The dream All Might had kept yelling.

The words echoed in Izuku's head, sending a shiver through him. Where the hell did such a dream even come from?

Yawning, Izuku swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself upright. His feet met the floor with an unsteady thud as he shuffled toward the door, still caught in the sluggish grip of sleep. Blinking away the haze, he spotted a familiar presence lounging near the doorway—Nemuri's cat.

"Hey, Rainbow," he muttered, his voice thick with morning fatigue.

"~Meow~" The feline's soft call was followed by a lazy stretch before it circled his legs and padded off, tail flicking in satisfaction.

Izuku barely registered the encounter as he continued his groggy trek toward the bathroom, completely unaware of the amused eyes watching him from afar. Ever since he started living with Nemuri, he had fallen into a bad habit of laziness. He was also discovering just how much of a non-morning person he was when he actually managed to sleep through the night without being plagued by nightmares.

Reaching the bathroom, he mindlessly stripped out of his nightwear—a pair of loose Bermudas covered in coconut tree prints. A souvenir from a trip to Hokkaido, courtesy of Nemuri. She had found them adorable on him, something she had been more than happy to point out at the time. His embarrassment back then had been unbearable.

Pushing the memory aside, Izuku grabbed his toothbrush, slathered on some paste, and began brushing in slow, absentminded strokes.

Once satisfied with the freshness in his mouth, Izuku stepped into the shower and turned the knob, welcoming the sharp chill of cold water as it cascaded down his skin. The summer heat made cold showers a complete must, and he let out a quiet sigh, relishing the cool relief.

He worked shampoo into his hair, before lathering his body with soap, ensuring every inch was cleansed. The steady stream of water rinsed away the foam, leaving behind nothing but a refreshed sensation.

Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off with practiced ease, his mind now fully awake. As he draped the towel over his shoulders, his gaze lifted to the large mirror mounted above the bathroom sink. Its slightly inclined angle allowed him to take in his reflection, and for a moment, he simply stared.

He had changed a lot over the past four years. Though he wasn't the tallest in his age group—standing at 5'5''—he had grown into a frame that was anything but weak. His body was lean, honed through rigorous training under Nemuri's watchful eye. His arms and shoulders carried defined muscle, his chest firm and toned. Lower down, his abdomen displayed a well-sculpted four-pack, each ridge standing out clearly beneath his skin. He wasn't bulky, but his athletic build carried a sharpness that could be matched by few.

His gaze drifted to his eyes—brilliant green, their glow almost unnatural under the bathroom light. Like polished emeralds, they shimmered with a vibrancy that never ceased to intrigue him. Their tone shifted with his emotions, turning from warm and inviting to sharp and unsettling in an instant. Even Nemuri had mentioned how eerie they could be when his mood darkened.

Puberty, however, hadn't been particularly generous in most areas. He hadn't shot up in height, nor had he developed any facial or body hair to make him look older. If anything, it had betrayed him in one frustrating way—his freckles had only grown more pronounced. They dotted his cheeks more vividly than ever, their childlike charm an endless source of irritation. No matter how much he trained, no matter how defined his muscles became, those damn freckles refused to let him look intimidating.

Releasing a sigh, Izuku wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom, the cool air meeting his damp skin as he made his way toward his room. On his way, he caught sight of Nemuri moving about the kitchen, her usual morning routine already in full swing.

"Good morning, Nem," he greeted casually, navigating through the living room with the ease of someone who had long since made this place his home.

"Morning, Izuku," Nemuri called back, her voice light and cheerful as she continued her work.

Stepping into his room, Izuku went straight for his wardrobe and pulled out his school uniform—a crisp grey shirt, a dark blue blazer, matching trousers, and a neatly pressed tie. Without wasting time, he threw on the outfit, fastening each piece into place while checking himself in the mirror on his dressing table.

Satisfied with his appearance, he reached for a familiar accessory resting nearby—his Ray-Ban sunglasses, a birthday gift from Nemuri when he had turned thirteen. Custom-made to his specifications, the lenses were so dark that no ordinary pair of eyes could see through them. Sliding them onto his face, he admired the way they sat, the tinted glass obscuring his sharp green eyes from view.

After ensuring his uniform was properly adjusted, Izuku grabbed his school bag from beside his desk and stepped out of his room. Making his way to the dining room, he set his bag down beside his usual chair before taking a seat.

"Ah~ You're ready already," Nemuri remarked with a smile as she glanced over at him. "Wait a minute, I'll bring your breakfast."

Izuku nodded, his focus already shifting elsewhere. He reached into his school bag, pulling out his well-worn 'Hero Analysis #57' notebook. Flipping to the most recent page, he skimmed over his latest entry: the Giantess, Mount Lady. She had been a sidekick to one of the Heroes in the countryside but if rumors were to be believed she was aiming to make a debut in Tokyo. Apparently, she had opened her Hero Agency in the city.

Her Quirk fascinated him. The ability to grow as tall as a forty-story building wasn't just powerful, it was exceptionally rare. Once-in-a-generation rare. He had jotted down everything he could find so far, but the page still felt incomplete. He needed more details—battle strategies, stamina limits, drawbacks. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to interview her in person. Given her rising popularity, it wasn't impossible.

Peering over the top of his notebook, Izuku discreetly stole a glance at Nemuri. She was still busy in the kitchen, completely focused on preparing breakfast. Izuku was constantly amazed by her ability to blend into any crowd, undetected as the X-rated heroine she was. His thoughts drifted back to how easily she sparked conversations with anyone. He had observed her closely and even quizzed her about her secrets, yet he never managed to replicate her 'social butterfly' charm.

Nemuri had profoundly impacted him over the past four years. Initially, he had been quite confused on how to perceive her. He knew he loved her just like he had loved his late mother, but he couldn't exactly see her as a mother figure. He had only one mother, who had died trying to protect him. That fact weighed heavily on his heart. He often wondered if Nemuri thought of him as a son, and if she did, the thought alone would shatter him.

It had taken some time, but gradually, he had come to see her as that teasing, perpetually single aunt. The way she carried herself, her naturally flirtatious demeanor, it all made her perfect for that role in his mind. Besides, she already addressed him as her nephew in public, so the label fit perfectly.

Either way, he was immensely grateful to her for giving him the life he now lived. She had never denied him anything, no matter how costly or rare the object of his desire might be. She always tried to fulfill his wishes to the best of her ability. When he had first started living with her, he'd been incredibly shy, hesitant to even ask her to buy a pencil, not wanting to burden her any further. But slowly, surely, Nemuri had coaxed him out of that restrictive shell.

What she had done for him was something he couldn't imagine anyone else ever doing. And that too, so selflessly. She had given him a home to call his own and a shoulder to cry on, whenever the need arose. Every time nightmares plagued his sleep, she would be there, right beside him, offering comfort throughout the restless night. She had undoubtedly become an irreplaceable part of his life, and the mere thought of losing her terrified him.

Thankfully, Izuku's spiraling thoughts were interrupted when Nemuri's voice rang out through the room. "Breakfast's ready!" she announced with a chirpy tone.

A moment later, Nemuri entered the attached dining room, balancing two plates in her hands. Izuku quickly jumped to his feet, eager to help her set the table. It was the least he could do after all the support she had given him. Once the table was properly arranged, he reclaimed his seat, and Nemuri sat across from him.

"Thanks for the food," they both said in unison, their hands briefly clasped in prayer before diving into their breakfast.

"By the way," Nemuri continued after a bite, her eyes glinting with a hint of amusement, "you remember you have community service today, right?"

Izuku groaned, the frustration clear on his face. "You don't have to remind me," he moaned, sinking into his chair in disappointment.

He had been sentenced to a day of community service for something he thought was supposed to be a good deed. The community service required him to clean up the Musutafu Beach. The punishment was a direct consequence of his actions during the mall hostage crisis. He had been the one to help apprehend the villains who had been holding an entire shopping mall hostage, but instead of praise, it seemed he was paying the price for the chaos it had caused.

The whole incident had happened just a week ago...

(Flashback)

"Alright, you fucking dumbasses," a rough, irritated voice barked. "I need all of you to keep quiet! No shouting, understood?"

Izuku blinked, his mind catching up to the situation. He was seated in the traditional seiza position, surrounded by at least a hundred terrified civilians. Beside him, Iida sat rigidly, his jaw clenched. The two of them had only come to the mall to buy materials for their project—now they were in the middle of a hostage situation.

His gaze shifted to the man who had just shouted. Lean and tense, his face was obscured by a ski mask, his frame swallowed by black overalls. But Izuku could tell that this guy wasn't the one in charge.

His attention moved further, landing on another man standing a few meters away. This one was different. Taller. Broader. The way the other five villains carried themselves around him made it obvious; he was the boss. Like his subordinates, he wore a ski mask and dark overalls, but there was an air of control about him that set him apart.

What truly unsettled Izuku, however, were the weapons. Each of the villains held a rifle, their grips firm, their fingers too close to the triggers for comfort. One wrong move, one spark of defiance, and civilians could get hurt.

"Villains!" A booming voice rang out from outside the mall, amplified through a speaker. "Let the hostages go, and we can discuss your terms!"

The boss let out an annoyed huff. "As if," he muttered before turning to one of his lackeys. "Bring me the speaker."

The lackey gave a sharp nod and sprinted off. A minute later, he returned, lugging a large speaker in his arms. Without hesitation, he handed it over.

The boss held the back of the speaker close to his lips and spoke, his voice cold and commanding. "You police have five minutes to give us the van and clear the roads. We ask for nothing more. Fulfill our terms, and we might let them go."

A collective shudder ran through the hostages at his words, muffled whimpers filling the tense silence.

Izuku's fingers twitched, his palms burning with the urge to act. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to charge in, to take these bastards down before they could hurt anyone. But reckless moves wouldn't save lives—they'd endanger them. He sucked in a slow breath, forcing his fists to clench at his sides, knuckles whitening as he fought to contain the anger simmering beneath his skin.

To his side, a little boy let out a soft sob. Izuku turned, watching as the child's mother tried to soothe him, her hands trembling as she stroked his back. A kid that young shouldn't have to endure something like this.

Keeping his movements subtle, Izuku called for the boy the way one would for a skittish cat. When their eyes met, he whispered, "Everything's going to be fine. The Heroes will be here." He finished with a bright, reassuring smile.

The boy sniffled, his lower lip quivering before he gave a tiny nod and buried his face into his mother's chest. The woman met Izuku's gaze, giving him a nod of gratitude.

"Everything is going to be all right," Iida murmured beside him. Izuku glanced his way, noting how stiffly he sat, hands clenched into his lap. Those words weren't just for the others—they were for himself, a desperate mantra to hold onto hope. Izuku wanted to believe them too. He wanted to trust that the Heroes would swoop in and save the day.

But he was dead wrong.

The five-minute deadline had already passed, and the criminals were growing impatient.

"Let's make an example out of someone," the boss muttered, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before settling on a target.

His eyes locked onto the mother beside Izuku.

"That woman will do."

One of the boss's lackeys stormed forward, grabbing the mother and yanking her away, her child's desperate wails splitting the tense silence. She struggled, but the man was stronger, tearing the boy from her grasp as she was dragged toward the center of the room.

Izuku felt his stomach twist, horror flashing across his face. His hands clenched at his sides as the child screamed, his cries muffled by the surrounding hostages who frantically tried to calm him. But nothing could quiet the raw panic in his voice.

The lackey shoved the woman toward his leader, who caught her easily and forced her in front of one of the windows, the barrel of his rifle pressing against her skull. Another thug stepped up, holding the speaker before the boss's lips.

"I gave you incapable bastards enough time," the boss snarled, his voice dripping with irritation. "But now it's time for consequences. For every minute of delay, one hostage dies. Starting with this—"

Before he could finish, a blur of movement shot through the air. A devastating force struck him from behind, sending him flying forward. His grip on the woman slipped as he crashed through the window, glass shattering around him as he tumbled toward the ground below.

Gasps rippled through the hostages. The mother turned in shock, her breath catching when she saw the boy who had comforted her son standing in the open, his stance relaxed, his emerald eyes burning with fury.

No one had seen him move.

Izuku's gaze locked onto the remaining criminals. His scowl deepened. "Enough with this foolishness," he said, his voice steady and commanding. "Drop your weapons, and we won't have a problem."

The villains hesitated—only for a second—before their grips tightened on their rifles, the barrels swinging toward him.

Izuku sighed and rolled his shoulders. "I guess we're doing this the hard way."

(Flashback end)

"You could have seriously injured the hostages," Nemuri said, scooping another bite of rice into her mouth.

Izuku let out a small huff, rolling his eyes. "No one got hurt or anything. But yeah, I get it. I messed up."

"Good, that's all I needed to hear." Nemuri nodded in satisfaction before glancing at her phone. "By the way, I have a meeting this afternoon, so I might be late."

"Of course." Izuku tilted his head. "Do you know what it's about?"

Nemuri shrugged. "Not exactly. Nezu's being secretive about it."

"Oh." Izuku's eyes flicked to the wall clock. A jolt of urgency shot through him. "Ah! I gotta go!" He scarfed down the last of his omurice, practically leaping from his seat. After a quick rinse at the sink, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder in one smooth motion.

Pausing just long enough to lean in, he pressed a soft kiss to Nemuri's cheek before dashing toward the door. "Bye, Nem!"

"Bye, Izuku!" she called after him, shaking her head with a small smile.

"Good morning, Iida!" Izuku called out with a wide, cheerful grin, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack as he caught up to the school entrance. His smile was as bright as ever, though faintly tinged with the familiar sheepishness that often accompanied his interactions with his friend.

Iida turned towards him, adjusting his glasses with a precise finger. "Good morning, Midoriya," he replied, his tone as crisp and orderly as always. "I see you managed to arrive on time today."

Izuku's grin softened into a sheepish smile as he scrubbed the back of his head. "Haha! I already apologized for that day, you know," he said, his voice light but laced with a hint of embarrassment.

"You did," Iida said, his expression unwaveringly stern. "But that doesn't mean I'll stop reminding you. Punctuality is important, Midoriya. You'd do well to remember that." With that, he turned and began walking toward the school building, his posture as straight as ever.

Izuku let out a quiet, resigned sigh and followed. He cared for Iida like a brother, but sometimes he wished the guy would lighten up just a little. He couldn't really blame him, though. Being the younger brother of Ingenium, one of the most respected heroes of their time, had to weigh heavily on him. Iida's every action seemed to carry the silent pressure of living up to his brother's legacy, of proving himself worthy to stand alongside him.

Izuku fell into step beside Iida as they entered the school building. "So, did you fill out that career form the teacher handed out last day?" he asked with a casual but curious tone.

Iida nodded stiffly. "Yes, I did. I listed U.A., Shiketsu, and Seiai," he added, glancing at Izuku with a raised eyebrow. "What about you, Midoriya?"

"Hm," Izuku hummed. "I just filled in U.A."

Iida's gaze sharpened, his expression turning disapproving. "We were supposed to list three schools of our choice," he pointed out with firm but not unkind tone.

Izuku smirked playfully, his cheeks puffing out in mock innocence. "I filled U.A. three times," he admitted, clearly unbothered by the unorthodox approach.

Iida stared at him, his eyes widening in disbelief before he shook his head in exasperation. "Of course you did," he muttered under his breath. "I shouldn't have expected anything different."

"Hey! Midoriya! Iida!" a voice called out from behind them.

The two boys turned to see the captain of the Baseball team waving at them. They returned the gesture with casual waves of their own. The two boys were on every sports team of the school, so it was usual to get calls from the captain of a sports team on some random day.

"We've got our final club meeting today!" the captain announced from a distance. "Come by the gymnasium after school!"

"I can't!" Izuku yelled back, shaking his head.

"WHY?!" the captain demanded incredulously.

"I have community service!" Izuku replied, shrugging helplessly.

"Goddammit, Midoriya!" the captain cursed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Why can't you do anything normal for once?!"

Izuku emerged from the metro, stepping into the sprawling expanse of Musutafu Metro Station. The clock had just struck one in the afternoon, and he had been temporarily excused from Somei. His community service, a rather mundane punishment, was to single handedly scrub a beach clean. With a sigh, he adjusted the straps of his backpack, powered on his smartphone, and navigated to the map application. The blue dot blinked, confirming his current location, and he traced the route to Dagobah Municipal Beach Park with his finger. With his destination clear, he set off toward the shore.

The cityscape had undergone a radical transformation since his last visit. It felt like stepping into a brand new world. Brand new boutiques, cafes, and towering commercial buildings sprang up on every corner. Everything gleamed with an unspoiled, almost surreal sheen, a testament to the city's rapid growth and prosperity. He rounded a corner, eager to reach the beach, but stopped short. A sizeable crowd had gathered just a few meters ahead, their faces a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He weaved through the throng, his large green hair bobbing above the sea of heads, as he tried to see what had drawn them all together.

Muttering apologies, he squeezed past a chattering group of schoolgirls and a pair of burly men engrossed in hushed conversation. It took a bit of effort, some determined shoulder nudges, and polite "excuse me's," but he finally broke through to the front lines of the crowd. His emerald green eyes widened, and his jaw, dusted with a smattering of freckles, dropped in undisguised awe. Before him lay a sight that made his heart race with excitement.

Right there, in the middle of the city, a battle of epic proportions was unfolding. A colossal, amorphous slime creature, its body rippling with captured debris, was wreaking havoc. Standing defiant against this monstrous threat were none other than Mount Lady, Kamui Woods, and Death Arms. Mount Lady and Kamui Woods, although relatively new to the hero scene, had skyrocketed to fame in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Their rise to stardom had been nothing short of meteoric, drawing intense media attention. Some enthusiastic fans even went as far as comparing their explosive popularity to that of the legendary Midnight at the peak of her career. Izuku remembered the countless fansites and online forums dedicated to the rookie duo, buzzing with unrestrained adoration and fervent discussions.

His fingers, still slightly clumsy from nervous excitement, fumbled with the straps of his backpack. He yanked it open and swiftly pulled out his well loved, and slightly battered, Hero Analysis notebook, the well worn cover displaying an impressive '#57'. He flipped it open to a fresh page and began scribbling down his observations, his pen scratching furiously against the paper. His innate eidetic memory was a gift, allowing him to recall even the smallest details with astonishing clarity. However, it could also be a curse, because of his eyes' tendencies of sending him a torrent of information that often left his thoughts a tangled mess. The act of writing served as an anchor to order the chaotic thoughts of his mind.

It was then that Mount Lady, sensing a shift in the battle's momentum, decided to unleash the full extent of her Quirk. Her body began to expand, bones lengthening, muscles stretching, growing taller and taller at an alarming rate. The crowd around Izuku erupted in a frenzy of cheers, their voices blending into a single, deafening roar. The very air crackled with electric anticipation. In a matter of seconds, her height had surpassed even the tallest skyscraper in the vicinity, dwarfing the surrounding buildings.

Izuku felt a sudden surge of heat rush to his cheeks, his face burning crimson. Her massive, perfectly sculpted posterior hung directly above them. Her skintight costume clung to her colossal frame like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination. With a slightly shaky hand, he discreetly scribbled two words beside the hastily drawn figure of Mount Lady in his notebook: 'Incredibly Sexy'.

Mount Lady roared, her voice echoing like thunder across the cityscape, as she raised her gigantic foot, every eye in the crowd tracking the movement with rapt attention. "Get wrecked, villain!" she bellowed, her words resonating with unwavering conviction. Her foot came crashing down, stomping the slime villain in one swift, decisive motion.

But as she lifted her leg, retracting her colossal foot from the squashed remains of the villain, globs of viscous, green slime dripped from her costume covered feet. "Ew!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with disgust, her finely sculpted features twisting into a grimace. "This is absolutely disgusting!" With another shudder of revulsion, she rapidly shrunk back down to her normal size, her expression radiating utter distaste.

"HAHAHA!" A maniacal laughter ripped through the streets, echoing off the surrounding buildings. It originated from the seemingly 'crushed' remnants of the slime villain. The scattered globs of slime began to pulsate, to move with a disturbing sentience, slowly coalescing and reforming into the villain's original, repulsive form. "You can't beat me, heroes!" he declared, his voice thick with arrogance. "I am unstoppable!"

Kamui Woods, his jaw set with determination, stepped forward. He extended his left hand, and in a breathtaking display of speed and precision, hundreds of rectangular wooden slabs shot out, crisscrossing and interlocking to form a complex, net like structure. The wooden cage wrapped tightly around the slime villain, seemingly trapping him. But Kamui Woods' eyes, usually calm and focused, widened in dismay as the slime villain simply oozed through the gaps in the meticulously crafted wooden structure, his gelatinous body defying the constraints.

"HAHAHA!" The villain roared again, his laughter grating, like nails scraping against a chalkboard. "I told ya, you can't catch me! You can't beat me! You—"

His triumphant, self aggrandizing monologue was abruptly cut short, severed by a deafening voice that boomed from a distance, a voice that resonated with power and authority, instantly silencing the villain's taunts.

"I. AM. HERE!"

The crowd's eyes widened in collective surprise as the booming voice reverberated through the streets, shaking the very foundations of the buildings. At that moment, a figure came crashing down from the sky, a meteor of muscle and might, slamming into the ground with enough force to send a shockwave through the pavement. A thick cloud of dust and debris billowed outwards, obscuring the figure in a swirling haze. Izuku stared, his emerald green eyes wide in utter disbelief, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. He couldn't believe he was witnessing this, seeing someone he had only ever dreamed of encountering in real life, a figure he had idolized since childhood.

Slowly, deliberately, the dust and smoke began to dissipate, unveiling the figure within. It was a hulking, impossibly muscular man, standing at least seven feet tall, a towering figure of raw power. Two thick, gravity defying strands of vibrant blonde hair jutted upwards from his head like antennae, framing a face etched with determination. His back, visible to Izuku and the crowd, was a breathtaking landscape of sculpted muscle, resembling the chiseled physique of a Greek god.

A moment of stunned silence hung in the air before the crowd finally, definitively, identified the figure. Then, they erupted in a deafening roar, their voices blending together in a cacophony of sound, reaching decibel levels previously thought to be impossible.

The slime villain, his confidence completely shattered, stammered, his voice a pathetic whimper. "A-All M-Might," he spat, the name dripping with fear and loathing. His amorphous body trembled uncontrollably, a visible manifestation of his terror. He attempted to flee, to slither away into the shadows, but escape was futile. No villain, no matter how slippery or evasive, could outrun the Symbol of Peace, the embodiment of justice and hope.

All Might, his presence radiating an aura of invincibility, reared back his incredibly buffed right arm, the muscles bulging and straining against his casual outfit. His massive hand clenched into a tight, devastating fist.

"UNITED STATES OF SMASH!"

With a swift, blinding motion, too fast for the human eye to fully track, he shot his arm forward. A colossal tornado erupted from his fist. It engulfed the slime villain completely, swallowing him whole in a swirling maelstrom of wind and force. The destructive power of the tornado tore at the slime's gelatinous body, ripping and shredding it with overwhelming force.

Izuku stared, transfixed, his emerald eyes wide with awe and disbelief. This was the true power of the Number One Hero? He was able to conjure a tornado with just a punch. How could anyone ever hope to match such overwhelming power?

The tornado, however, in its raw, untamed power, was indiscriminate. It expanded rapidly, catching nearby vehicles in its destructive path. A shiny, cherry red car, parked innocently on the side of the road, was violently lifted from the ground, and unfortunately became an unwilling projectile. It was sent hurtling through the air, spinning and barreling towards the unsuspecting crowd at a terrifying speed. The three other heroes, Mount Lady, Kamui Woods, and Death Arms, still recovering from the sheer shock and awe of All Might's attack, failed to react in time. Their bodies, usually so quick and responsive, were frozen, paralyzed by the sudden unexpected turn of events.

The car soared above their heads. The crowd, still lost in their euphoric cheers, remained completely oblivious to the impending threat hurtling towards them. They were caught in a moment of celebration, unaware of the deadly danger. The heroes, realizing the impending catastrophe a fraction of a second too late, could only watch in dawning horror as the car sped towards the unsuspecting bystanders, a scene of unimaginable carnage about to unfold.

All Might spun around, his piercing blue eyes widening in alarm as he saw the red car hurtling, like a ballistic missile, towards the oblivious crowd. His powerful legs tensed, muscles coiling like springs, and he took a powerful step forward, ready to intervene, to throw himself into the path of the projectile. But suddenly, a violent, hacking cough racked his body, seizing him in its grip. A spray of blood erupted from his mouth, splattering against the pavement, catching him completely off guard. His eyes, now filled with a flicker of vulnerability, widened in alarm as he followed the car's deadly trajectory.

The crowd remained blissfully unaware of the imminent, catastrophic danger.

But just as suddenly, a figure blurred into existence intercepting the hurtling vehicle, crashing into the side of the car with a resounding, metallic clang. Time itself seemed to slow to a crawl as All Might watched, utterly astonished. It was a green-haired teenager, his leg extended, his foot connecting with the car's side in a perfectly timed, incredibly powerful kick.

The car found its trajectory violently altered by the force of the impact and careened away from the crowd, redirected by the sheer power of the kick. It smashed with a deafening crash into a nearby building, the metal crumpling and glass shattering in a spectacular explosion of debris, leaving All Might in a daze. He stood frozen, his eyes wide, his mind struggling to process what he had just witnessed as a wave of profound relief washed over him. A potential massacre had been averted, and by a kid, no less.

A teenager with seemingly impossible reflexes and strength.

The crowd's cheers abruptly silenced, finally registering what had transpired; the near disaster that had almost befallen them. They stared dumbfounded at the car, its bonnet now embedded deep within the wall of a nearby building. Even the three Pro Heroes, Mount Lady, Kamui Woods, and Death Arms, stared at the wreckage with wide, disbelieving eyes. Slowly, their gaze shifted to the green haired boy standing calmly before them. He, in turn, was gazing at the mangled car with a surprisingly neutral and almost detached expression, as if redirecting a speeding vehicle was an everyday occurrence for him.

To the outside world, to the stunned onlookers and the seasoned Pro Heroes, Izuku might have appeared disinterested, even nonchalant. But in reality, beneath that calm exterior, a quiet storm of self satisfaction brewed. He whistled internally. He was quietly amazed that he still possessed the sheer power to pull off something like this, to casually deflect a speeding car with a single kick. He had secretly worried that his recent lifestyle change, the relative comfort and domesticity of living with Nemuri, might have softened him, dulled his edge. But this act, this spontaneous display of strength, clearly proved that his power and reflexes were undiminished. He might have even grown more powerful, and his level of power was nothing to scoff at.

Izuku finally, acutely, felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon him. He looked around, his gaze sweeping across the stunned faces of the crowd, and found everyone staring at him, jaws agape, even the usually composed Pro Heroes. "Haha," he chuckled, a nervous, awkward sound that broke the silence, before shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of apology. "...Sorry?"

Before he could react, Mount Lady rushed towards him with a face flushed with gratitude. With surprising speed, she enveloped him in a tight, bone crushing hug.

"WAH! Thanks for saving our heads so much, cutie," she cried out, her voice thick with genuine appreciation, rubbing her cheek affectionately against the crown of Izuku's unruly green hair.

The ever present media, sensing a golden opportunity, zoomed in around them, their cameras flashing, capturing the heartfelt moment between the Heroine and the green-haired teenager, a scene that would undoubtedly be broadcast across the nation within minutes.

Kamui Woods and Death Arms approached them at a more contained pace, maintaining a more composed and professional demeanor. "She's absolutely right, kid," Kamui Woods said, his voice smooth and melodious. He placed a hand on his right hip, striking a dramatic pose, like the charismatic diva he was known to be. "You saved all those people from getting seriously injured, or worse, by that car. It was an incredibly brave act."

Death Arms' typically stern expression softened by guilt, nodded in agreement. His powerful arms dangled loosely at his sides. A look of shame washed over his features. "Normally, I would scold you for your recklessness," he commented, his voice a low rumble, "intervening in a situation like that without proper training or authorization is dangerous. But what you did there was undeniably heroic. Without your quick thinking and decisive action, a lot of innocent people could have been severely injured, or even killed. For that, you have our sincere thanks and apologies. We should have reacted faster."

Izuku, still slightly flustered from Mount Lady's unexpected embrace, let out an awkward, nervous laugh. Mount Lady was still rubbing her cheek affectionately against the crown of his head. "It's alright," he managed to say, his voice slightly muffled. "I just did what I should as an aspiring hero. It's what anyone in my position would have done."

"Aw~ You're so adorable~" Mount Lady cooed, her voice dripping with affection. She finally decided to cease her affectionate cheek rubbing and released Izuku from her bone crushing embrace. However, she still held him at arm's length, her hands resting gently on his shoulders, as if unwilling to completely break contact with the adorable, heroic teenager.

"T-Thanks," Izuku stammered, slightly strained. His tongue flickered out, darting across his suddenly dry lips. Even after living with Nemuri, he still wasn't entirely comfortable with prolonged conversations with strangers, especially in front of a large, observing crowd, and most importantly with Pro Heroes.

"So, you wanna be a Hero, huh?" Kamui Woods inquired, his voice laced with genuine curiosity, his interest in the boy audible as clear as the day. He gave Izuku an encouraging clap on the back. "You've got incredibly sharp reflexes, kid. And that strength... I'm absolutely sure you'll be a truly exceptional hero one day."

"What's your name, kid?" Death Arms asked, his arms now crossed over his broad chest.

"Izuku Midoriya," Izuku replied. He bowed to them respectfully. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Izuku Midoriya, huh?" Kamui Woods muttered slowly, thoughtfully.

"Nice to make your ass-quaintance, Izuku Midoriya," Mount Lady said, her voice a playful purr, making sure to pronounce her suggestive innuendo with exaggerated clarity. She punctuated her words with a slow, deliberate wink directed at Izuku,. The boy, in response, gave her a flat, seemingly disinterested look to carefully hide the rising tide of crimson blush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks.

Kamui Woods sighed, a long, drawn out sound of exasperation at Mount Lady's brazen words. "Please control yourself, Mount Lady," he warned lightly.

"Poo~" Mount Lady responded, puffing out her cheeks in a childish pout, crossing her arms across her chest. "You're no fun at all, Kamui." She then turned her attention back to Izuku, her pout replaced with a dazzling, radiant smile. "By the way, I'll definitely be keeping a close eye on you, Midoriya. You'd make an absolutely adorable sidekick for me."

"Ah~ Thanks for the offer," Izuku replied with gratitude and slight embarrassment. He wasn't entirely sure if he was going to accept her proposition, mainly to save himself from a potential lifetime of equally embarrassing moments in the future. He did not think he could handle another woman in his life who would tease the hell out of him. Nemuri was enough for this lifetime. And not to mention, Nemuri would definitely have something to say if he did accept Mount Lady's offer.

"Young man," All Might's booming voice cut through the casual conversation like a thunderclap. The group of Heroes surrounding Izuku instinctively parted, creating a clear path for the hulking Hero to approach the teenager. All Might's iconic, usually ever present, smile was notably absent. He studied the boy with an uncharacteristically serious, almost scrutinizing, look on his face, his piercing blue eyes filled with an intensity that was both intimidating and awe inspiring. He then laid his massive hands on Izuku's shoulders, their weight surprisingly heavy.

Izuku glanced at the hand on his shoulder before slowly tilting his chin to meet All Might's gaze directly. His breath hitched as he stared up at the towering figure before him, the man he had admired for as long as he could remember. His emerald green pupils shone brightly, reflecting the light, as they discreetly, imperceptibly, analyzed the man before him.

"Are you injured, young man?" the Number One Hero asked, his voice unusually clipped, laced with a mixture of distress and barely concealed guilt.

The other three Heroes, Mount Lady, Kamui Woods, and Death Arms, felt their eyes widen in sudden, sharp realization. They had been so caught up in the aftermath of the battle, in their gratitude and admiration for Izuku's actions, that they had completely forgotten to inquire about his well being, a fundamental oversight for any Pro Hero. Their shoulders slumped, heads bowing slightly, as a wave of guilt and self reproach washed over them.

"I-I am absolutely fine," Izuku answered, his voice still slightly unsteady, a telltale stutter betraying his nervousness at being in such close proximity to his idol, All Might. The sheer presence of the Hero was overwhelming.

All Might, in a move that shocked everyone present, suddenly dropped to his knees, lowering himself to Izuku's level. It was an unexpected, humbling gesture. "Young man," he said slowly, his usually loud voice now subdued. Izuku found it unsettling, preferring the hero's usual confident resonance. "I sincerely apologize for my actions. If I had been more careful with my attack, then you wouldn't have been forced to act so recklessly. It was entirely my fault. My carelessness could have seriously endangered the lives of innocent people, but you, with incredible bravery and skill, not only saved them, but you also saved me. I will forever be grateful for your actions, young man. You have my deepest gratitude."

"A-All Might, you don't have to apologize for anything," Izuku tried to reassure the Hero, his voice filled with genuine concern and a touch of disbelief. He couldn't comprehend why his idol was apologizing to him.

But All Might's expression was resolute. He gently shook his head, dismissing Izuku's reassurance. "I am an experienced Pro Hero," he stated firmly. "I should not be making such fundamental mistakes, and errors in judgment that put lives at risk." He then slowly rose to his full, towering height, removing his hands from Izuku's shoulders. He reached out again, placing his right hand gently on Izuku's head, ruffling his unruly green hair in a comforting, almost fatherly gesture.

Izuku's eyes widened, glazing over with a mixture of awe, wonder, and pure, unadulterated joy. He stared up at the towering figure of All Might, his idol, his inspiration, the man who embodied everything he had once aspired to be.

The hero, with a big smile on his face, uttered words that would forever be etched into the deepest recesses of Izuku's mind, a moment he would cherish for eternity.

"You will make a great Hero one day, young man."

Izuku grunted, his small frame straining as he tugged at the massive refrigerator half-buried in the sand. The thing was easily twice his size, and the beach sand wasn't making it any easier. Every heave forward earned him maybe an inch, the fridge gouging deep trenches in the ground like some monstrous creature clawing its way out. Who the actual hell tossed a fridge on the beach? It wasn't exactly your average trash he was expecting to clean. He could probably just lug the fridge by boosting his muscles with his cursed energy, but he had also challenged himself into not using his quirks for the task.

And he wanted to stay true to himself.

Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes as he heaved again. His mind drifted back to the chaos of the fight scene half an hour ago. The Heroes had surprisingly let him off the hook this time. No lectures, no punishments—just nods of approval and muttered thanks. Kamui Woods had even clapped him on the back, praising his reflexes saying he was some kind of prodigy. Izuku's cheeks burned at the memory.

Though, it was Mount Lady who really had him squirming. She'd swept in, her frame towering over him, and pressed him against her…bountiful chest. He had found out first hand just how soft her chest was. She'd held him there for what felt like way too long.

But it was All Might's reaction that made his chest swell with pride. The Symbol of Peace had placed a massive hand on his head, warm and reassuring. Izuku would carry those six words in his heart for the rest of his life

But there was something strange about All Might. Izuku had always known the man was special, but this was different. Six Eyes allowed him to see quirks—specifically, how they worked and which body part they originated from. But when he looked at All Might, he saw something he'd never seen before. Seven bright dots of light flickered in the man's body, like tiny stars glowing in the dark. It baffled him. He'd never seen anything like it before, not even with the President's Quirk. Whatever All Might's quirk was, it was far from ordinary.

After All Might had left, Mount Lady had wanted to give him some sort of reward for his heroic display. He did not request for much, just the three Heroes autographs in his notebook.

"Young man."

Izuku blinked, the sudden voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He stopped pulling the refrigerator and looked behind him to see a weak-looking man with blonde hair. The man was thin, almost fragile, as if a soft breeze could sweep him away. Two thick strands of his blonde hair framed his thin face, and his black sclera eyes gave him an otherworldly appearance. Weirder even was just how the man did not even register as a presence in his sensory range.

"Yes," Izuku addressed the man, "Can I help you, sir?"

"I was at the fight scene earlier," the man informed softly, his eyes gazing at Izuku curiously. "Would you mind telling me your name? My name is Toshinori Yagi."

Izuku shook his head gently. "I'm Izuku Midoriya." He bowed slightly at the waist. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Toshinori replied with a nod. "Young man, back at the fight scene, why did you jump at the car like that? You know that it could have caused severe injury, right?"

Izuku regarded the man's question, his brow furrowing in thought as the sea wind tousled his hair. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper over the crashing waves. "I don't know why I did it. But when I saw the car hurtling like that at the crowd... My body just moved."

Toshinori stared at the boy, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft tone that carried a hint of curiosity, he asked, "Young man. What would you do if someday someone came to you and offered you a great power to help the world?"

Izuku blinked at the question, then burst out laughing, the sound carrying a combination of disbelief and amusement. "I would reject the offer, Mr. Yagi," he replied after managing to control his laughter. "I am already burdened enough as is. I wouldn't want to add more to it."

Toshinori looked at Izuku with a shocked look on his face that lasted a brief second before he shook it away. "I understand," Toshinori said with a nod. With a chuckle, he added, "You will be a great Hero one day, young man. I will wait to see how you progress."

Izuku stared at the retreating form of the man in confusion. What was that right now? Shaking his head, he went back to cleaning the beach. With the way things were going, he was going to be cleaning the beach for a whole week.

It was late afternoon.

Midnight sauntered through the halls of U.A., heading toward Nezu's office. All the teachers had been requested to gather there after the period. She had just finished teaching class 2-B when the announcement rang out.

Midnight's hero costume had undergone a dramatic transformation since she'd "unofficially" adopted Izuku. The overtly provocative hero costume she used to wear had vanished, replaced by a far more modest and conservative ensemble. The design, suggested by Izuku, drew inspiration from a character in the vintage Marvel comic books: Black Cat, or Felicia Hardy. After sharing a few issues with him, Midnight had to admit even she felt a kinship with the character, struck by the parallels between them. Thankfully, she was not a thief but a Hero.

The base of her new costume consisted of a matte-black, form-fitting full body suit that covered her body from her neck to her toes. It was crafted from a bi-layer synthetic. The lower material helped absorb sweat while the outer layer provided the most critical aspect of her suit. To the casual observer, it appeared like high-end athletic wear, but its true nature was far more complex. Invisible to the naked eye, microscopic pores, tiny and one-way valves, covered the entire surface of the bodysuit's outer and inner material. These ensured that she did not have to tear her costume every time she needed to use her quirk, allowing her to release massive bursts of her quirk without needing much skin exposure.

Vibrant purple accents, like glowing veins, pulsed across the black canvas. Thin, dynamic lines traced the seams, running from her shoulders down to her wrists and ankles. Angled stripes across her torso formed a subtle "V," drawing attention to her waist, while there were circles of the same color around her hips and thighs. On her upper back and forearms, near the areas where her quirk release was most concentrated, the purple lines coalesced into stylized patterns, mimicking the swirling tendrils of smoke.

A plush, white faux fur collar encircled her neck. It was a detachable piece that added a touch of unexpected luxury and a visual contrast to the otherwise utilitarian design. Similar fur encircled her wrists, also removable for practicality. The V-neck collar of her suit dipped just enough to give a slight glimpse of her cleavage.

Her hands were encased in gloves of the same micro-perforated material, extending to her fingertips. Retractable, black claws, made of a hardened polymer, were concealed within, ready for climbing, gripping, or close-quarters combat. Additionally, there were smaller gadgets on each of her fingertips that allowed her to fire jets of her aroma at her opponents without much effort. Before this, she had to consciously maneuver her quirk to shoot out like that. The palms featured textured panels for enhanced grip, ensuring she wouldn't lose her hold, no matter the situation.

She also wore knee-high, black boots with low, wedge heels that provided stability and a grounded stance. They were a far cry from her previous stiletto footwear. The soles offered exceptional traction, and concealed compartments in the heels discreetly housed emergency equipment. Even the boots were equipped with micro-pores, allowing her to use her quirk if the situation demanded it.

A slim, almost invisible black utility belt, seamlessly integrated into the bodysuit, sat low on her hips. It held small pouches containing several weapons like her whip, retractable staff, and much more. They also contained quirk-suppressing handcuffs for apprehending villains, and a miniature, earbud-style communicator.

And, of course, perched on her face were her signature glasses. They were large, angular, and pointed at the topmost and furthest corners. The frames were a deep, metallic purple, perfectly complementing the suit's accents. The lenses were a smoky grey with a subtle purple gradient, fading to a lighter shade at the bottom, and provided clear vision while maintaining a hint of mystery. Integrated within the frame were miniature air filters, protecting her from her own Quirk, and a communicator nestled discreetly in the earpiece.

During their game night, Nemuri had suggested calling the suit 'Midnight Prowler' as a subtle nod to Izuku's vigilante moniker 'Night Crawler.' Izuku was a little worried that people might not like that but she hardly cared about their opinion. Only Izuku's mattered.

She had also changed her rating from X to R. She had tried to apply for a PG-13 rating but unfortunately the rating office informed her that due to her 'past' she could not get a PG rating. She had to unfortunately settle for an R-rating.

She finally arrived at Nezu's door and tapped her knuckle lightly against it. Moments later, she heard the invitation to enter. Sliding the door open, Midnight stepped inside, her gaze instantly drawn to the frail-looking man perched on the only couch in Nezu's office.

"Ah, Nemuri," Nezu greeted cheerfully. "You're the first one to arrive. As expected of you."

She blinked and closed the door behind her. "Nezu," she replied warmly, a smile curling on her lips.

"Ms. Midnight," the man on the couch nodded, his expression solemn yet friendly.

Nemuri returned the nod, unsure how to respond. Her eyes lingered on him, intrigued by his peculiar appearance. He looked almost fragile, as if a gentle summer breeze might whisk him away. His blonde hair cascaded around two large strands, framing his thin face, and for some odd reason, his sclera was black.

"Please wait a few minutes," Nezu requested. "I'll start the introductions shortly."

So, Nemuri waited patiently as the moments ticked by. Before long, more faculty members began filtering into the office, each of them casting inquisitive glances at the enigmatic man. Aizawa was among the latest arrivals; their eyes locked for a brief moment, and they exchanged quiet but respectful nods. It was Nemuri who had 'convinced' him to teach at U.A., though he would certainly argue that she had forced him into it against his will. But that was a tale for another time.

"All right," Nezu announced once everyone had settled into the room. "Since we're all here, let me introduce you to our new faculty member," he declared with dramatic flair, gesturing toward the mysterious man. "Everyone! This is Toshinori Yagi."

Silence fell like a heavy blanket over the room, no one daring to voice the urgent question lingering in the air. After exchanging a few concerned glances, Power Loader finally broke the tension. "Good morning, Mr. Yagi," he began, striving to maintain a tone of utmost respect. "But if you don't mind me saying, aren't you a bit too…weak to teach here at U.A.? I mean, there's nothing wrong with…"

To everyone's astonishment, the frail-looking man suddenly coughed up generous amounts of blood, intensifying the worry and doubt swirling among the faculty about their new member.

"I understand, Power Loader," Yagi replied, his voice rough and hoarse. "But you have nothing to fear…"

The atmosphere shifted dramatically as the seemingly weak man transformed right before their eyes, bulking up into an incredibly muscular Adonis, radiating raw power. The figure, the infectious smile, those antenna-like locks of hair—there was no doubt. The man who had appeared so frail was, in fact, All Might.

"For I am here!" All Might proclaimed grandly, striking a heroic pose, hands on his hips, as the aura of his presence filled the room.

But then, as if a switch had been flipped, the imposing figure of All Might vanished, leaving behind the blood-coughing, frail embodiment of Toshinori Yagi.

"You're…All Might?!" Power Loader exclaimed, sheer disbelief etched on his face.

Yagi nodded, finally managing to reign in his coughing fit. "I am," he affirmed with a sincere nod.

"But… what happened to you?" Ectoplasm inquired, grappling with the shocking revelation that the infamous Symbol of Peace was hidden behind such a fragile facade.

A somber expression settled on Yagi's face. "That's... a long story."

Chapter End

Author's Post-Chapter Comment:

A brief note to all my readers: I've decided to revisit and refine some of the earlier chapters, particularly those involving Midnight. I want to significantly reduce the amount of explicit content in some of the previous chapters and also going forward, to make the story accessible to a wider audience. This story holds a special place in my heart as it's likely the only long-form narrative I'll ever publish. So, I'm committed to making it the best it can be.

If you've enjoyed the chapters so far, I'd love to hear from you in a review.

Have a wonderful day! :)

Next Chapter: The Entrance Exam begins…