Clothes rustled as Izuku folded them into a moving box, starting with the easier task before tackling the real challenge—his mountain of All Might merch.

They were moving house closer to UA. His father was hired to teach there and they were expecting him to succeed the exam 10 months from now too.

Hitoshi once asked him if he found it weird to be surrounded by All Might action figures when he was literally his father. Izuku remembered looking at Hitoshi like he grew a second head and said that it'll be even weirder not to have All Might merch, in that case.

Chuckling, he shut the case in front of him and got the next. He didn't have a large wardrobe, but he was never left wanting. If there was one thing his father loved, it was spoiling him and his mother. Though his came in the form of merch than clothing. His mother, on the other hand, would probably have double the work.

Digging through one of his drawers, he pulled out an old stuffed toy—an anpan-shaped plush that made him pause. Gran Torino had given it to him when he finally landed a clean hit. He worried about the old man's sweet tooth. Would he end up the same, except with katsudon?

Gran Torino lectured him that day about respecting the elderly, though the man himself was smiling proudly throughout.

He stared at the plush for a second longer than necessary before carefully tucking it into the box. Some things weren't just keepsakes—they were proof of how far he'd come.

Once done, he moved onto his merch. How he would pack them neatly...and...it didn't work. He didn't take into account that some of them were first-batches. Extremely rare, but the measurement on the website weren't so accurate. Not to mention some were hand-made.

He sighed, staring at the uneven figures like they had personally betrayed him. "Come on, guys, work with me here..."

In the end, he decided to open up his suit case and reorganize some of the clothes to make a few figures fit. It hurt his soul to do so, but it had to be done. He couldn't bear to leave them behind or toss them out—that was like desecrating a tombstone or throwing away family mementos!

It didn't help that some of them were limited edition or one-of-a-kind custom-made. His dad had given him one of those for Christmas once, and he spent a week crying when it got lost in the mall.

He stretched his back, now that the uncooperative figurines were taken care of. Most of his packing was done and he moved them to the back of the car.

He walked around the house, giving it lingering looks as memories of him running through the halls, the laughter his family shared, and even the time they decorated it all flooded him like an emotional tsunami.

He'd miss this place, he admitted to himself quietly.

His room looked so bare and empty now—there were no posters on the walls, no figurines lining his shelves. The All Might bedsheets and pillowcases had been removed and packed into boxes, leaving nothing behind but a single white sheet that covered his mattress.

Walking to the kitchen, he picked up one of the couch cushions. It was the same one he was jumping on before his Quirk manifested. And to his left, the wall he blew apart because of that. His fingers traced the faint marks on the wall—scars from a four-year-old's Quirk awakening. The indent his first punch had left was still there, a reminder of the day his life changed forever.

"Izuku, sweetie, you do realize that we're not getting rid of the house? We can visit here whenever?" Inko commented from behind him as she carried boxes outside.

Izuku blinked at her, followed by a sheepish chuckle, before taking the box from her hands. "I know, I know. It's just...different," he said. Turning back to the empty living room, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess it just hit me how much has happened here."

"True. A lot has happened since your dad and I married and moved here," she said. "Did you know? Your dad asked me to marry him here."

"Really?" Izuku asked as he sat down beside her.

She nodded with a bright smile on her face as she recounted the tale, "It was raining cats and dogs. I had forgotten my umbrella so your father let me stay under his own until it stopped pouring. We were both drenched, but we couldn't care less because we were having fun." she chuckled. "Though the place almost looked as empty now as it was back then. I still couldn't believe how he could live like that."

"I guess he's focused on heroics that he barely needed them?"

"I love your dad to bits, but don't go replicating that part of him, alright? Just call us and we'd be happy to buy stuff for you. Anyway, let's hurry," she patted him gently on the head, despite having to tiptoe, "I'll miss this place too, but it's for the best that we move closer to UA. Your dad's job is there too. And I'm sure you'd make us proud as the student there."

He nodded quietly in agreement, glancing back at the empty space once more before heading to the door. He hovered at the doorway for a second longer than needed, fingers gripping the frame before he exhaled and stepped out.

The car was packed, and there wasn't anything else they could carry out.

He could maybe use Float plus Blackwhip plus Fa Jin plus Gear Shift plus One for All, but...he wasn't allowed to do that.

They decided against using the services of a moving company since they didn't want to leak their home address before 24 hours was up. It won't last, but not even his father wanted to have the press there while they unpack.

In the end, they decided to ask for Nezu's assistance to move the rest of their stuff anonymously.

One week later, the Yagis had officially settled into Mustafu. Izuku stood in his new room, now fully decorated with familiar All Might figures, posters, and bedsheets—because of course. It was perfect. Perfect. Everything. Down to the last minute details.

After submitting his application to UA, he scrolled through a decades-old tourism site, mostly to kill time until dinner, his eyes locking onto a photograph of golden sand stretching under a bright blue sky. Below it, a caption read: "A treasured spot for families and friends—Dagobah Beach is the perfect getaway for a day of fun!"

But when he clicked on a more recent post, his stomach twisted. The same angle, the same shoreline—only now, it was buried under a wasteland of discarded appliances, shattered glass, and rusting metal. The water was dull, thick with grime. A few locals in the comments mourned its loss. "I used to play here as a kid," one person wrote. "Now I wouldn't even let my dog near it."

Izuku clenched his fists. That's not right.

He turned away from the screen, already making his way downstairs. "Dad, I need to show you something."

He told this to his father and they went the following morning. And the sight left him speechless—it was almost unrecognizable from its glory days. The smell alone made him gag as he took in the scene of trash piled high in mounds and heaps on every inch of the coastline.

And then—a wave of determination swept over him. He was going to clean it up! And he knew just how to do it!

When he told his father, Toshinori smiled proudly. "I think that's a wonderful idea, son. Alright! Let's make it your goal to clean it up before UA entrance exam. Are you up for it?"

Izuku nodded firmly, clenching his fists in front of him. "Of course!" He grinned brightly at his father, who returned it with an equally bright grin of his own.

"Excellent!" The man clapped his hands together, making the teen jump slightly. "Let's start tomorrow morning."

The work was slow. Tedious. Heavy.

Every morning, Izuku hauled rusted appliances, broken glass, and corroded metal from the sand. Every night, he dragged himself home, sore to the bone but never once doubting he'd finish.

But that didn't mean it was easy.

One time, he grunted as he lifted a rusted refrigerator, muscles straining against the awkward weight. Not too bad...he thought. But as he stepped forward, his foot sank into the soft sand. His balance wavered. The fridge tilted dangerously.

"Whoa—!"

A blur of gold caught his arm before he could topple.

"Hah, rookie mistake," Toshinori chuckled. "Lifting isn't just about strength, son—it's about balance. Spread your stance, engage your core."

Izuku sighed, adjusting his grip. "Could've told me that before I almost face-planted."

"Experience is the best teacher."

Toshinori grinned before hauling away a broken vending machine. Izuku exhaled, now hyper-aware of the way his feet dug into the ground.

If he had used his Quirks, any of them, even Smokescreen, this would've been far easier. But that wasn't the point. His father had made it clear: this was about building his body, not relying on power. And Izuku wasn't about to take shortcuts.

His arms burned, but he pressed on.

At first, people just watched. Some stopped to gawk. A few reporters snapped photos, probably thinking it was just another PR stunt from All Might's son. But Izuku didn't care.

By the final weeks, people weren't just watching anymore. They were helping.

Some joined in because of the cameras, sure. But others—like the old woman who had lived here for fifty years or the young father who wanted his daughter to play in clean sand—were here because they cared.

And when the last piece of trash—a long-expired snack bar—was thrown away, an 83-year-old man who had been born in the city looked out over the newly cleaned beach.

He wiped his hands on his pants, nodding to Izuku with a small smile.

As the last piece of trash was thrown away and the beach was restored to its former beauty, Izuku stood at the shore, watching the waves roll in. His arms ached, his legs felt like lead, but he couldn't stop smiling.

"That was...oddly satisfying," one of the men, who had dead-fish eyes at the beginning of the cleanup, commented with a satisfied grin, his face now full of life.

Izuku watched as some of the people around gathered and even decided to clean up other parts of the city.

"You did good, son," Toshinori said beside him, patting his back. "You have no idea how proud I am of you."

"I'm still nothing compared to you, Dad," he smiled back.

"Just take the compliment, will you? Really, where did you get that from?" his father commented before both broke into laughter. "But you know...this was just the first step."

Izuku let out a short laugh, stretching his sore muscles. "Yeah...UA is next."

His father grinned. "Exactly. Eight months left. How do you plan to use them?"

"Everything."

Confused, Toshinori raised an eyebrow. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that."

"Strength training, combat training, Quirk training, simulations, and media rep. No matter what, I have to go plus ultra for everything. I wouldn't let you down."

The words were familiar, but there was something different in the way Izuku said them. Toshinori had heard similar determination in pro heroes before—himself included. He didn't know whether to feel pride or concern. "You'd never let us down, son. Remember that. You make us proud everyday." He patted him gently on the back before letting out a sigh, "So...do you want me to train you? Or did you want to work out on your own?"

"I mean...if you could teach me a few things that would be great! But I want to improve on my own too!"

Toshinori nodded his head approvingly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, smiling from ear to ear, "That's what I like to hear."

Over the next eight months, Izuku pushed himself harder than ever.

Mornings started in their home gym, muscles straining under increasing resistance, with his father giving the occasional advice. Afternoons were spent in the library, absorbing everything from hero law to tactical analysis. But it was his secret outings at the boxing club—under a carefully crafted disguise—that sharpened his instincts the most.

He wasn't just getting stronger—he was getting smarter. His movements became sharper, his footwork cleaner, his ability to read opponents so precise that, at times, he predicted attacks before his Danger Sense even triggered. Gearshift was no longer just a Quirk—he wove it into his fighting style, seamlessly adjusting speeds mid-movement. Even Fa Jin could be charged with the subtlest shifts, storing power in every precise motion. Float let him redirect the force of hits, pushing him away rather than absorbing the impact, while Blackwhip enforced his body like some endo-armor.

It was during these sessions that Izuku discovered the true extent of Gearshift's power...and his face twisted in horror. It worked too well—too seamlessly. Against a human opponent...no. That wasn't an option.

It was during one evening, when he was browsing some more notebooks for his Quirk studies at the local bookstore when someone called out to him.

"Yagi Izuku?" A refined voice caught his attention.

He turned to see a girl with neatly tied dark hair and a composed expression. "Yes?"

"I read about your beach restoration. The amount of work that must have taken—it's admirable." She held out her hand.

He blinked, caught off guard, before quickly grinning and shaking it. "Oh! Thanks! I just wanted to help out."

Her lips quirked slightly. "Modest as well. I hope to see you at UA. I expect great things from you, Yagi-san."

It was late evening when Izuku's phone buzzed with a message from Hitoshi.

Hitoshi: You free?

Izuku: Yeah. What's up?

Hitoshi: Need to talk. Coffee shop near the station?

Izuku didn't hesitate. If Hitoshi was asking to meet up, it had to be important.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the dimly lit café, spotting his friend slouched in a booth near the window, idly stirring his drink.

"You look like you're contemplating the meaning of life," Izuku teased, sliding into the seat across from him.

Hitoshi snorted. "More like the meaning of getting completely screwed over." He set his spoon down with a clink. "I've been thinking about UA's entrance exam."

That got Izuku's attention. "Yeah? What about it?"

Hitoshi exhaled through his nose. "You've seen how most hero schools test people, right? Physical trials, obstacle courses, live combat assessments." His fingers tapped against the table. "You see the problem here?"

Izuku frowned, realizing where this was going.

"My Quirk's not exactly built for smashing things," Hitoshi muttered. "If they make us run some combat-based exam, I'm done before I even start."

Izuku leaned back, considering. "UA's supposed to be fair, though. They wouldn't completely exclude non-combat Quirks...right?"

Hitoshi gave him a dry look. "Yeah, and villains are real big on fairness too."

Izuku hummed in thought, rubbing his chin. "Then we just plan for everything."

Hitoshi sighed. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Future Number One."

Izuku rolled his eyes. "Come on, you're acting like you're helpless or something. You've been training for eight years, Hitoshi. You can keep up."

Hitoshi didn't answer right away.

It was true. Eight years ago, he wouldn't have lasted two minutes in a fight. But now? He wasn't a powerhouse like Izuku, but he wasn't a pushover either. His stamina had skyrocketed. His reflexes were sharper. He could hold his own in a fight—not win outright, but not immediately lose either.

He still wasn't fast, but his reaction time had improved. He wasn't strong, but his endurance made him a nightmare to wear down.

Even so...

"It won't matter if they expect us to fight giant robots," he muttered.

Izuku tilted his head. "...You're really hung up on that, huh?"

Hitoshi gave him an unimpressed stare. "You think UA wouldn't throw something like that at us?"

Izuku grinned. "Okay, fair point. But if they do give us something combat-heavy, you don't have to destroy anything—you just have to pass. And I guarantee you, there'll be some way for you to do that."

Hitoshi tapped his fingers against the table. "And if there isn't?"

Izuku's grin didn't waver. "Then we'll make one."

That, at least, got a chuckle out of him. "...Yeah, alright."

Ten months. It felt like they'd barely started before they were over. And now...before they knew it, the gates of UA loomed before them.

Thanks for reading!

Somehow, the more I think about Gearshift, the more terrifying it became. I'm not sure if I'm just crazy, but there's something about a Quirk that can literally accelerate someone, cell-by-cell, that gives way to more...err...sinister usages. Yet I've yet to encounter a single fic that uses it that way, even in Villain Deku stories. Granted, those with OFA are rare, but still... While Izuku would stick to the canon usage for the most part, there will always be that option.

Next up is the Entrance Exam!