Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

Mina Ashido, despite her strikingly pink appearance and often carefree behavior, was one of the most competent students in my class at that moment. Why? Because she is here because she had excellent control over her Quirk and used it in a flexible and creative way.

Essentially, she could produce acid right from her body. Her body was completely resistant to the acid, which was already a significant bonus. According to Mina, her pink skin and horns were due to this, though I personally doubted that—it seemed more like an inherited beneficial trait, like with many others.

So, here's the thing.

Her Quirk had obvious offensive potential.

And a slightly less obvious defensive one.

However, even by the time she entered U.A., she had already learned far more. She could manipulate the viscosity and density of the acid, making it sticky, slippery, more or less corrosive, resistant to combustion, or even flammable...

And for fast movement, she came up with something like "skates"—coating her feet with a very slick liquid, allowing her to move rapidly and essentially glide across the ground like a speed skater. It might have looked a bit odd, but it was undeniably effective—she finished the race in a little over five seconds!

That didn’t surprise me. I had already seen her use this during the entrance exam.

But what I didn’t expect was for her "dance partner" Kiotaka, who had only shown limited control over his mist Quirk, to replicate the exact same move.

Mina was shocked.

I was shocked.

Everyone was shocked.

Except for Aizawa—he’s always in a state of perpetual shock.

Everything happened so fast that it was hard to catch. But I did see the second pair of "skates." They were made of liquid too, though not gray like Mina’s but a deep violet, almost black.

He even crossed the finish line first, with some sort of sudden burst I didn’t understand. Or maybe I just didn’t notice.

After that, my mind was wiped clean of everything but questions about the mist guy. What was his power? Where did he come from? There was no character like him in the events I remembered... or maybe I just didn’t recall correctly—but a guy capable of producing sleep-inducing mist and moving quickly was definitely a significant factor in any confrontation.

At least now it was clear how he managed to keep up with me during the exam. And how he earned points against the robots by himself.

But wait...

Could it be possible that he didn’t always have these abilities but somehow gained them just now?

I narrowed my eyes, watching the silver-haired... possible enemy return to the starting line.

The theory that he might be a unit controlled by All for One suddenly seemed more plausible.

Alright, so what do I know about this Shinya?

In the original story, he wasn’t present with about a… fifty percent chance. I can't give more than that; after all, my notes from a decade ago, written after four years of relearning how to hold a pen, aren’t that reliable.

So, there's about a fifty percent chance that this character enrolled in Class B or something, from which I only remember Yui, Setsuna, Gevaudan, religious fanatic, and the guy who could copy other people’s Quirks.

And, haha, myself.

His sleep-inducing mist Quirk was already problematic enough. A significant factor to consider.

But if he has more than one Quirk—or rather, if he has only one but it’s incredibly versatile and he can control it even better than I can control mine—he becomes more than just a factor. He becomes a player.

...and I have no idea where this player came from.

He doesn’t socialize with anyone. He shows no interest in getting close to people. The guy resembled a starving, almost hunted animal.

Perhaps the occasional attention he showed toward me was the most interest he had in anyone. That—and his negative reaction to Toga. I caught him giving her a dark look more than once.

I had only heard his voice once—when he introduced himself as one of the first students to arrive in class. A normal voice for a young man, just very raspy. Like he had been smoking all his life. Or was sick.

Oh, it seems I’ll get another chance to hear it—Aizawa turned to Shinya, who had just returned with a rather annoyed Mina, and asked:

"What does your Quirk do, Shinya?"

"I can create a gas that puts people to sleep," he grumbled.

"The mist, like in the exam. But where did the liq—"

"Condensed it," Shinya interrupted the teacher, tossing the explanation out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and then walked away, signaling the conversation was over.

Aizawa snorted, and I suddenly realized that these two even looked alike: the unkempt hair, the gaunt face, the reclusive demeanor—and the red, sleep-deprived eyes with sclerae covered in broken blood vessels. But with Eraser Head, it's clear why, while with Shinya...?

The last to run was Iida Tenya, redoing his sprint. He did well on the retake, though still didn’t break past three seconds.

This time, I had the chance to see Tenya’s stop from start to finish. Unlike me, he had no problems with braking—he just skidded to a halt with his legs, no need for fancy maneuvers.

On one hand, that means his legs might be better suited for such things because of his Quirk... but on the other hand, it also means I accelerated much more. His speed remained relatively constant throughout the race, though assessing three seconds is tricky. Meanwhile, mine increases with each step in geometric progression... could it be that I can move faster than the “speedster” hero?

Hmm... if his Quirk is called "Engine," and if it’s some kind of engine-like structure in his calves—no matter how ridiculous that sounds—could he possibly have something like a... "gearbox" somewhere around his chest that lets him switch speeds?

If so, I don’t want to know where his handbrake is...

But jokes aside, if that were the case, it would explain why I won—he simply didn’t have enough distance to hit his full stride. Same as me, really.

However things stood with Iida’s handbrake, I had secured an unquestionable victory in the first test against all my classmates. Sad Tenya came in second, Angry Bakugo third. Nervous Midoriya trailed far behind.

The second test—grip strength—was held indoors, in what turned out to be an ordinary gym with two levels of bleachers. The test involved squeezing the handle of a special machine that looked like a cross between electronic scales and a tiny exercise machine. There were plenty of these machines—grab one and squeeze away, then report the best result to Aizawa.

Let’s see... for our age, a great result would be forty-five kilograms. Well, I can certainly squeeze out a bit more...

Peeking over Midoriya’s shoulder, I let out a low whistle—fifty-six kilos! Was he working a grip trainer in his sleep or something? And yet, he looks like such a twig...

The somewhat dejected Midoriya noticed my obvious snooping, so I tried to cheer him up:

"For our age, that’s an amazing result, no joke!"

Midoriya perked up a little—and then glanced at mine:

"And you got sixt—oh..."

Internally, I winced: the last thing I needed was to crush his self-esteem with my own hands!

Passing by, Sero, who was trying to improve his result by using his elbow tape to pull the handle (and failing), exclaimed:

"Whoa! Six hundred and sixty kilos! Are you a gorilla?"

Setsuna heard that, burst out laughing like a horse, and crumbled, causing a squeal from the invisible girl and Aoyama.

The final result of the test was as follows: once again, I took the stunning and glorious first place. In second was Kirishima, who made his hand look almost square, and in third… was Kiotaka. Again. How exactly he managed that, I didn’t understand. Again. It was starting to become a bit of a disturbing pattern.

Apparently, his veins turned purple and bulged as he squeezed the handle with inhuman force. But where that power came from, where it went afterward, and why it gave him such strength was a mystery. Questions were multiplying, and I wasn’t even sure if I should be worried about him. Was he a friend? An enemy? A problem? Neutral? An NPC? A player?

One thing was clear—along with me, Bakugo, and Todoroki, he was undoubtedly one of the strongest students in our class. At least three completely different Quirk properties… incredible.

Oddly enough, fourth place didn’t go to anyone with a strength Quirk but to Denki Kaminari, who, from the looks of it, had never exercised a day in his life. He just zapped the machine with electricity, and it glitched, giving him a score of two hundred and twenty two. I snickered—if some transcendent "author" weren’t on my side, it might’ve given him nine-nine-nine, sending me into second place.

Bakugo and Todoroki tied for fifth and sixth, as I expected, both having superhuman physical attributes.

Midoriya was somewhere in the middle. He’s improving!

Alright, so how did I take first place? At first, I tried to get the maximum result just out of curiosity, without using my Quirk. I managed to squeeze out sixty kilograms, which was fine by me. Then, I simply tried to grip the handle as quickly as possible while placing a marker on it. To my surprise, it worked on the first try, even though I had never practiced this kind of impact. It turned out to be pretty useless for me in combat, but hey, it was fun.

The third test was the standing long jump.

Here, after "warming up," I unleashed four simultaneous markers, while swinging both arms as I jumped, delivering an impulse. It went well—I flew about six meters, overshooting the edge of the designated pit with the special sand. I tucked and rolled out of the fall, almost like a gymnast. Yeah, I was on fire today!

In theory, I could’ve gone even further by activating a couple more markers, but I figured that would be too suspicious. Besides, slapping my butt to trigger markers was something I’d rather avoid...

In any case, I wasn’t going to beat Aoyama, who took second place—after Setsuna, who won. Bakugo, seething with frustration (since he wasn’t leading in anything, I assume), took third place, Todoroki fourth, and I settled for fifth.

Tsuyu Asui, the "Ribbit Lady," took sixth place, even though she could’ve jumped farther. From what I understood, she simply didn’t have anything to latch onto with her tongue (which she could use to pull herself toward targets like a winch). Midoriya placed third from last.

The fourth test... was lateral shuffles, a silly exercise that was the equivalent of shuttle runs in my first childhood. You stand in place and then start stepping side to side as quickly as possible, trying to take the most steps in a set time.

Bakugo won this with his explosions. I came in second, using my impulse jumps, while Sero claimed third, pulling himself side to side with his elbow tape. Momo took fourth by creating some kind of gymnastic bands that pulled her back and forth.

Kiotaka didn’t show anything unexpected, and I began to get bored. It all felt like a waste of time since I already had a good grasp of both my abilities and those of most of my classmates.

The fifth test was flexibility—your basic forward bends, trying to touch your toes while someone held your knees down to make sure you couldn’t cheat.

I didn’t win.

Obviously, first place went to...

Who said "Toga"?

Obviously, first place went to Setsuna.

Looking at her hands, which were happily marching across the room on her fingers while her arms stretched out, Aizawa shrugged, opened his notebook, and drew the infinity symbol next to her name. That’s the second one, by the way.

Toga took second place.

Not that she reacted much. She was growing more and more sullen, showing no interest in socializing, and I kept catching her evaluating glances directed at me—without a hint of a smile.

Judging by Himiko's flexibility, either she had been doing gymnastics from a young age, or her Quirk gave her increased ligament elasticity. Likely both. It made sense: if she transformed not only externally but internally as well, even partially, it would require enhanced joint mobility and tissue flexibility. And she wouldn’t have been such a formidable foe for heroes in the "A" world without decent combat skills.

For the fifth test, I ended up in the middle, the first among the guys. Most of the girls in the class were impressively flexible, which is almost always the case—women tend to be more flexible than men, especially at this age.

I barely managed eighth place after Yui, which didn’t leave me too pleased.

You can’t practice martial arts seriously without stretching, unless you're talking about heavyweight boxing. And even then, I’m only saying that because I can’t imagine a two hundred-kilogram bearded beast stretching... although, sumo wrestlers all do splits, by the way.

Anyway, my stretching was fine, but I didn’t like it and avoided it. My distaste for it dated back to when I was sixteen in my previous life, and during a "butterfly" stretch, someone enthusiastically "helped" me stretch by forcing my legs down... I yelled a lot. Sure, afterward I could easily sit in a lotus position, but the dislike stuck with me.

Midoriya took second-to-last place, just ahead of Denki.

For the record, my legs were being held by Uraraka, the gravity girl. She had already managed to fluster and compliment Midoriya, but to my surprise, I ended up on her thank-you list too. She awkwardly expressed her gratitude for me diverting the second robot during the exam and for shouting at her to focus on rescuing people—it snapped her out of her panic, apparently.

She was quite sweet and talented, but I simply didn’t have time to accept another student into my “training” sect. Besides, I wasn’t really sure how to improve her Quirk—she was doing just fine on her own.

In the sixth test—sit-ups for speed—I came in first, purely because I do them at the gym every day. Gotta maintain those abs, you know? Setsuna couldn’t cheat her way through this one, and she was visibly disappointed.

Finally, we reached the seventh test, which turned out to be the last one. I guess Aizawa was too lazy to go through the full set of school physicals like pull-ups and running laps. More likely, he just picked random tests based on his whims.

The seventh test was throwing a softball, just like Bakugo did earlier. Stand in a circle and do whatever you want with your Quirk—just don’t leave the circle and throw the ball as far as you can.

Uraraka threw first—and got infinity. Goodbye, first place.

Setsuna threw second, attempting infinity as well, but this time there was a clear measurement using an app on Aizawa’s phone, so outsmarting him didn’t work. Tokage has a maximum range for her quirk, specifically the distance at which her parts refuse to move any further. So, at around six hundred meters, she was already struggling greatly to make her hand with the ball move, and by seven hundred meters, she barely dragged herself along, breathing heavily. But—she was satisfied!

It’s also important to note that her six to seven hundred meters work in all directions, and while you can't build a multi-kilometer chain from Setsuna, the maximum radius from one of her functioning parts to another can reach almost one and a half kilometers. And trust me, she trains hard every day in that direction, I know for sure.

In fact, that’s how she used to keep tabs on me back in those not-so-distant school days. Her head, acting as the main server, would be present in class with her body to avoid suspicion, while her ears, eyes, and occasionally her hands would take turns “scouting” the area, looking for the right school. There were several of them nearby.

Kirishima stood out again, managing a solid one hundred fifty-meter throw.

Momo constructed a small trebuchet and launched the ball over two hundred, but she looked slightly disappointed—something in her calculations had gone wrong, and the efficiency wasn’t as high as she had hoped.

Finally, Yui stood out. It was generally difficult for her to handle such isolated tests since her quirk heavily relies on the environment and various additional equipment that we had been working on for a couple of years. However, her inquisitive mind always finds a way to shine: she reduced the size of the ball by half, carefully assessing the weight, frowned, then returned it to its original size. Then, she took off her sneakers, stacking them into a "pile" in the center of the circle, and, remaining barefoot, increased the size of this "pile" to that of two cars. By throwing the ball from a considerable height of several meters, she managed to double the distance, reaching seventy-two meters. Beautiful!

Whether it was long or short, it finally became Midoriya's turn. I remembered this moment from the anime quite well, even now. After all, back then (which means now), the protagonist first showcased the qualities that would truly make him a great hero in the future.

It all happened like this: Midoriya prepared to throw the ball with all his might. Aizawa blocked his quirk, revealing his own— it looked genuinely terrifying. His black hair and white ribbons floated in the air, his eyes glowed red, and the air around him seemed to tremble. Midoriya was stunned by the warning that his quirk wasn’t suitable for a hero because it would simply injure him, turning him into a burden. Meanwhile, I watched in surprise as Aizawa's ribbon-like bands on his neck seemed to have a life of their own. How was he controlling them?

Midoriya was given two more tries. He meditated on the ball for a moment. Then, as if his "drivers" updated, he threw the ball again— but instead of using his entire arm, he only enhanced the distal phalanx of his index finger. It was hard to catch— the movement was incredibly fast, but I, of course, expected this— I remembered this scene well from the anime, after all. Plus, his quirk makes his limbs glow, and in this case, his finger.

In a situation where time was running out and Aizawa had only given him two options— to give it his all and get injured or hold back and be expelled for lacking potential as a hero— this was truly a brilliant third option.

The ball flew seven hundred and five meters, earning Midoriya the lead in the throwing contest, a severe fracture of his now purple index finger, and cheers from Uraraka.

I was just happy that the canon hadn’t broken and that Izuku had won his first... or rather, his second independent victory right when and where he needed to.

I gave him a thumbs up. What was interesting was that I had expected a much sharper reaction from Katsuki since the timid boy he'd bullied had suddenly shown such strength, something that could have easily allowed him to stand up to Bakugo in their childhood if he’d had that quirk back then.

But no: the spiky blonde just scowled, looking everywhere but at Izuku.

Curious...

And then I realized it was my turn— and the last one. Coincidence?

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that a lip-biting Izuku had stopped and was watching, ignoring Uraraka's concerned flapping nearby.

I took the ball. Tossed it in my hand, pretending to check its weight. Marked it. Then, without any dramatic pretense of a baseball pitch, I threw the ba...

Something was wrong.

Frowning, I slowly turned my gaze to Aizawa, who was once again cosplaying Medusa. Only this time, he was targeting me. And I had to admit, when that otherworldly force was aimed at me, it felt... uncomfortable.

"Fifty-five meters," he said dryly. "Try again."

He gave no explanation; the other students began whispering, and a bad feeling settled in my gut.

Annoyed, I tossed the new ball from hand to hand, checking the marker I'd set on the previous one. Everything was still in place; Aizawa’s quirk didn’t erase it. His ability only blocked my "activator" and dulled my sense of the markers.

I swung harder, moving faster and sharper— though by now, I’d realized that Aizawa had caught me here and now, probably even screwed me over. Hopefully, my classmates hadn’t figured out what he was showing them…

So, I threw the ball up into the sky, activating the marker placed from the throw, and, a moment later, a second one I had set earlier while tossing the ball in the air. Both markers were maxed out since I was, after all, competing for first place.

"Seven hundred and six meters," said Aizawa Shota, smiling unpleasantly.

"Probably shouldn’t flip off the homeroom teacher on the first day of school," I thought.

Instead, I asked some random nonsense, hoping to distract everyone from my spectacular failure:

"Are the test results rigged? Seven hundred four, seven hundred five, seven hundred six... doesn’t that seem like too much of a coincidence?"

Aizawa, interestingly enough, thought about it:

"Hmm... maybe the detector’s acting up… or the principal," he muttered quietly, but I heard him, being close enough. What on earth did he mean by that?

Then the homeroom teacher told us not to leave and be ready to listen. After fiddling with his phone for about five minutes, he remembered us and announced:

"Okay, I’ll quickly show you the test results. The overall score is just the sum of your scores across all tests. It’s a waste of time to explain everything verbally, so I’ll just show the results to everyone at once."

At that point, the guy in black pajamas projected a three-D hologram from his smartphone (I want that app too), displaying our rankings. I was in first place. I’m awesome, I’m great. Setsuna was in second place. Setsuna’s awesome, she’s even better! And in last place was Midoriya, trying not to look at his swollen, broken finger.

I caught the moment when his face fell apart.

"By the way, I lied about the expulsion," Aizawa said, completely emotionless as he pressed a button to turn off the hologram.

I tensed up. No way you're such an evil chupacabra that you'd lie about the tri...

"And I also lied about the reward for the top student," his face split into a sly grin.

Oh, fantastic.

"It was just a rational tactic to squeeze the most out of your quirks."

I wanted to slam my face into the nearest wall. My own face.

Not only did I, possibly… no, Niren, let’s face it, you got played. You thought you were the smartest— and a real pro just outsmarted you. Playing spy games, huh...

While the other students screamed, shared how unfair or obvious it all was, Aizawa told us to read the pamphlets with our schedules waiting in the classroom. Then he walked over to a very green (now also in skin tone) Izuku and sent him to the nurse.

Then he turned to me:

"And you, Shoda, stop by Principal Nezu’s office in an hour. He’s expecting you."

Oh, f**k.

***

Earlier.

Shota Aizawa, same place.

In the nearly ten years he had been working as a pro hero, Shota had accumulated a great deal of experience fighting all kinds of opponents.

When you don’t have a combat quirk and many of your enemies can kill you in seconds, you have to learn to pick your moments. To wait. To observe.

So Shota Aizawa learned to observe, and over time, he became able to instantly identify the owners of many quirks. Ready-to-fight pyrokinetics always had a slight shimmer of heat around them; those with defensive or regenerative abilities showed a distinct recklessness, not afraid of open spaces; and those with physical enhancement quirks moved differently— holding back their strength, cautiously, like prowling predators when all was calm, and striking unnaturally fast and sharp in battle.

In his new class, there were two students who supposedly had physical enhancement quirks.

Neither fit the mold.

Aizawa didn’t like Izuku Midoriya from the start.

Inefficient, undisciplined, unable to control his own quirk. Sure, it was powerful. Sure, All Might had shown interest in him, the same interest he’d only previously shown in Mirio. Sure, he passed the idealistic nonsensical hero test that Nezu had designed— the test that, by the way, Shota had failed himself, forcing him to transfer into the hero course later.

Nevertheless, no, if after saving even one person, this Midoriya becomes a burden— then he’s no hero, and he never will be.

However, the boy had surprised Eraserhead, passing a test that he had initially intended to be unbeatable. Well, cunning and creativity— those were most loyal companions of Aizawa. It would be hypocritical not to recognize that in the boy. Izuku Midoriya had potential.

But the second one...

He acted rationally, for the most part, highly efficiently, and seemed to have near-perfect control over his quirk. This Niren— a dream student.

But ever since the exam, where Shota had taken note of several promising students, something didn’t sit right with him— something about this guy that trained eyes caught even before the brain processed it.

Niren Shoda moved... wrong. People with physical enhancement quirks have a very specific way of moving. They’re stronger, faster, more agile, capable of incredible acrobatics and massive leaps, but their movement changes— it becomes sharper. But Niren... moved the same way all the time, like a highly trained, perfectly fit but entirely normal person without any enhancement.

Maybe, like Izuku, his quirk is activated consciously and isn’t always on. But even when he activates it, his movement doesn’t change, his speed stays the same, though his strength undeniably increases.

According to his admission papers, it’s a simple quirk that enhances physical abilities, like another first-year student, Rikido Sato.

They’re like two sides of the same coin— Izuku, who can’t control his quirk and uses it sparingly, and Niren, who has near-perfect control.

But this isn’t an enhancement quirk.

So why lie on the application?

Shota preferred to assume the worst, so he decided to test the boy to know for sure, and then report to Nezu. Despite Nezu's occasionally unserious demeanor, the principal hated when people speculated without solid facts.

So, after carefully observing the boy and confirming his suspicions, Aizawa rearranged the order of the tests, introduced the “reward” element into his usual class evaluation, and finally erased Niren’s quirk during the ball throw— to see if his movements would differ under "enhancement" compared to normal.

With grim satisfaction, he confirmed they did not, not once. Absolutely identical movements. He wondered if any of the other sharp-eyed first-years had noticed.

After sending a report of his suspicions and conclusions to the principal, he soon received a reply:

“Be so kind, invite him to a chat in my office in an hour, Shota-kun."

Illustrations:

Aizawa and the hologram. On one hand, Aizawa lied.

On the other, he didn’t lie because last year, during this exact test, he expelled an entire class, and over the years, he’s expelled one hundred and fifty students total.

So, maybe the only time he lied was about having lied?

The situation is VERY reminiscent of Kakashi-sensei and Team Seven. I think plenty of people recognize how much MHA draws from Naruto, but this is one of the clearest examples.

Ah yes. And let’s not forget about flexible Setsuna. Especially with her abilities...