My Side Academia

by Ophiuchus Moon (OphiuchusMoon)

Summary:

With such a huge cast, My Hero Academia has many lovable side characters. This is the story of Neito Monoma, Hitoshi Shinso, and Class 1-B! Characters from Shiketsu are also set to appear in later chapters.

Notes:

This is the beginning of Monoma's story—a side story to the excitement in My Hero Academia!

"Utagai" means "doubt," and "Kagaku" means "science." :)

Chapter 1: Neito Monoma: Origin

What did any of them know? These naysayers who claimed his Quirk was only useful for sidekick work—not even powerful enough for villainy—he’d prove them all wrong.

Neito Monoma fidgeted as his teacher’s mouth twitched into a smirk appraising the form all third-year middle-school students had to fill out. Mr. Utagai glanced up at Monoma, then back down at the form, then up again. Inevitably, the teacher burst out with chortles, the small bubbles on his forehead popping and splashing water onto the career sheet.

“You think you have what it takes to be a Pro Hero? And applying for U.A., no less!” Before Monoma could stop him, Mr. Utagai stood up and held the wet career sheet for the rest of Class 3-F to see. “Do the rest of you sad saps see this? Your classmate Monoma wants to apply to U.A. High School, which has only the best hero program in Japan!”

Mr. Utagai got rolled eyes and a few snickers in response. Monoma’s blood boiled.

The skeptical teacher continued, “What do I always tell you sad saps?”

Half the class chorused in a monotone, “It’s useless to pursue our dreams if we don’t have a heroic Quirk.”

The other half of the class were on their phones. Their career sheets were either empty or had office worker, salaryman, or some variation, with intent to enroll in a second- or third-tier high school that only had a general studies curriculum. Monoma was far better than that, and he’d prove it.

Mr. Utagai smiled bitterly. “Monoma, with your Quirk, do you honestly think you can become a Pro Hero?”

“Of course—I’m better than any of you!” Monoma snatched the career sheet from his teacher’s hand, accidentally scratching him in the process. The wet paper tore and fell in clumps onto the table. Without meaning to activate Copy, Monoma’s forehead bubbled with Mr. Utagai’s Quirk. 

<Bubblehead: water-filled bulbs appear on the forehead. In a state of complete apathy, these bubbles are the size of pimples. With amusement or anger, they can grow to the size of large warts or tumors and even burst!>

With a horrible pop, water trickled down Monoma’s face. Mr. Utagai looked horrified at seeing his own Quirk in action. Monoma supposed such an ugly old man wouldn’t spend much time in front of a mirror, but instead of advising him to invest in much-needed cosmetics, Monoma ran out of the classroom.

He slammed the door to the science room open, knocking over a crate of test tubes. Shoving past a skinny nerd who was using his Quirk to peer into a microscope, Monoma popped open a window and activated his newly Copied Quirk.

<Binoculars: the user’s eyes turn into a pair of binoculars that can produce a clear image from up to 20 kilometers away. The lenses must be cleaned at least twice a day, every day!>

Before Monoma adjusted the lenses to stare out at the city, he turned back to sneer at the science nerd, “You know binoculars don’t work as a microscope, right? How can someone in science be so stupid?”

Binoculars Boy gave him a dead-eyed stare. “I have to redo this assignment.”

Monoma continued, “You have the perfect scouting Quirk but don’t know how to use it! I’ll show you how to use Binoculars, nerd.” He turned back to the open window and adjusted the lenses.

He could see the whole ward and beyond. Traffic piled as Kamui Woods used his limbs to create a wooden web to trap wannabe villains. Edgeshot weaved between buildings and through tight city spaces using his Quirk; Endeavor blazed, a fiery star taking the opposite approach as Edgeshot. What would it be like to Copy their Quirks? He could only hold onto two at a time — like grabbing one with each hand and refusing to let go — but any two Pro-Hero Quirks had immense power.

In a middle school on the other side of the ward, a boy grabbed his classmate’s notebook and threw it down into a pool. Heroes didn’t intervene for bullying; there were real villains elsewhere. Just outside the city, Mount Lady grabbed a group of thugs the size of violently spasming worms for her.

If Monoma had her Quirk, he’d be so powerful that no one would tell him he couldn’t be a Pro Hero anymore. 

Half to himself, Monoma mused, “I can use just about every imaginable Quirk on my first try, because I learn fast. I also only get to hold onto a Quirk for five minutes at a time, so I have to master it in less. You see now, right? I have what it takes to be a Pro Hero, because I’m fast enough and smart enough to use a brand new Quirk properly in the span of only a few minutes.”

“But you’ll always need to be with someone with a Quirk worth copying,” Binoculars Boy remarked. “How can a Pro Hero work that way?” His voice sounded closer than Monoma expected.

Monoma spun around right before Binocular Boys pushed him.

He grabbed the nearest shelf, knocking down a crate of Erlenmeyer flasks, and stepped to the side, leaving Binoculars Boy to tumble out the window.

At the last possible second, Monoma grabbed the bully’s arm. Before pulling him back up, he flicked his blond hair back and gloated, “I told you, didn’t I? I’m faster and smarter than you and everyone else in this school. And I’m saving you now! I’ll be an amazing Pro Hero—admit it.”

The other boy cried out, “Okay, okay! Just pull me up already!”

A sweat broke out on Monoma’s forehead. “All in due time, Binoculars Boy. You can’t rush perfection—or a rescue.” Binoculars Boy continued to dangle out the window. Monoma gulped; the third floor suddenly seemed a lot higher than was fitting for a mid-tier middle school.

“Monoma! I’m sorry, okay?! Now pull me up!”

Monoma chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m just taking my time, BB. This totally isn’t because I’m… not… strong enough…” As Binoculars Boy flailed, trying to grab the window ledge with his free hand, Monoma’s shoes began to slide down the floor.

When he was half out the window himself, he grabbed the ledge and screamed, “HELP!!!”

~***~

The school decided to handle the incident as an attempted suicide, which worked best for both Neito Monoma and Sogan Kagaku. For Kagaku—good ol’ Binoculars Boy—dealing with a fleet of counselors was far better than dealing with the repercussions of bullying. And for Monoma, avoiding the counselors that surrounded victims of bullying would enable him to focus on preparing for the U.A. entrance exam.

He could ace the written component easily; he was at the top of his grade. But the practical component worried him. The incident with Sogan Kagaku made him realize how much he relied on others. He’d never have his own agency or be able to truly work independently.

The thought would keep him up at night, but he turned his anger into fantasy: Monoma could Copy two Quirks at a time, so why not make use of that? First, he’d find someone with a Quirk that would let him hold onto Quirks forever. Then he’d find someone with a Quirk that would let him hold onto as many Quirks as he wanted. He’d snatch up as many heroic Quirks as possible for the entrance exam. Then over the years, he’d stockpile all the best hero and villain Quirks. He’d be the most powerful person in the world!

Although that didn’t happen, it kept him motivated over the months. Then the fateful day arrived.

Hundreds of teenagers gathered to compete for the 36 spots in U.A.’s hero curriculum; four were reserved for students with recommendations from high-up people. Monoma vowed that he’d be one of those high-up people someday.

For now, as third-year middle-school students trudged, stormed, or scuttled into the auditorium, Monoma realized a critical oversight: he neglected to research what Quirks the other students had.

Trying not to sound nervous, he chuckled, flicked his blond hair back, and began asking other students what their Quirks were.

“Uh, I dunno how to describe it…”

“It’s really weird and kinda embarrassing…”

“Why are you asking, weirdo? Mind your own business!”

Behind him, a girl in a turquoise jumpsuit laughed, her long orange ponytail bouncing as she jogged toward him. “That’s not how you introduce yourself to your future classmates, friendo.”

“What’s your Quirk?”

The girl rolled her eyes and offered her hand. “I’m Itsuka Kendo! What’s your name?”

Monoma accepted her hand, trying not to dwell on the notion of a Kendo calling him “friendo.” Her confidence meant she had a heroic Quirk, right? “I’m Neito Monoma.”

Kendo’s hand enlarged to the size of a melon.

Monoma yelped and yanked his hand back. “Tell me you’re not contagious.”

Kendo laughed. “Oh my god, you have the funniest squeak!” When she regained her composure, she explained, “My Quirk is Big Fist. My hands become super big, and my punches become super powerful!”

Monoma sat next to her as they listened to Present Mic drone on about how the exam worked. In a theatrical whisper, Monoma declared, “I’ll punch all the three-point villain bots before anyone else can!”

Kendo’s eyes sparkled. “Your Quirk also involves punching? We’ll find out which of us is faster and stronger!”

Monoma had no doubt that Kendo was the stronger one, but he didn’t play by strength; he played smart. Outside on the field, he offered Kendo his hand. “May the better of us win.”

Kendo shook his hand with a surprised look, but she smiled. “See you at U.A.”

Before she finished speaking, Monoma pulled his hand back, turned around, and started a five-minute timer on his phone.

Kendo’s shocked exclamation was swallowed up by Present Mic’s booming announcement: “EXAM—START!!!”

Chapter 2: Itsuka Kendo: Start

Summary:

With the odds stacked against him, Monoma participates in the U.A. entrance exam!

Notes:

While Monoma wouldn't meet *everyone* in this one arena, there are some flashy Quirks and familiar faces, including a (kind of) meet-cute :)

Neito Monoma needed to complete a one-hour exam in five minutes, or he’d be screwed. As dozens and dozens of examinees ran past him, he chuckled and ran a hand through his blond hair. He’d faced worse odds before.

He activated Big Fist and launched himself into the air. For a split second, he hovered above the battleground.

He caught a glimpse of Kendo’s bright orange ponytail and her shocked expression, and then he landed swatting a 2-point robot.

He launched himself into the air again and this time swatted a 3-point robot.

Five seconds in and five points. He’d ace this.

Kendo caught up to him with a wide grin. “Hey friendo, you didn’t say we have the same Quirk!”

We don’t, Monoma wanted to tell her. Mine is far superior to yours.  

But he didn’t have time to waste, so he kept running and swatting robots with Big Fist. Forty seconds and 15 points in, his muscles fatigued. He thought his wrists would snap, and his enlarged blood vessels pulsated until it seemed they’d burst through his skin and paint the battleground red.

He just barely remembered to return his hand to normal before wiping away the sweat on his forehead. At this rate, he’d break out in zits right before getting his picture taken for his school ID.

Four and a half minutes in, Monoma had long stopped counting points. He was close to fainting; did Big Fist exhaust Kendo too?

He wasn’t the only one tired after less than five minutes of exercise. A couple students had already given up—an overweight boy lay on his back, out of breath and in the direct path of a 0-point robot.

“Get out of the way, kid!” Monoma wanted to yell, but he was out of breath himself, so it came out as puffs and wheezes.

Kendo swooped in and carried the kid out of harm’s way, swatting the robot in the same movement. “You okay, friendo?”

The boy shook his head but thanked her anyway. He trudged toward the exit, his back becoming a turtle shell as he hunched over in shame.

Monoma staggered toward Kendo. “You used your Quirk against a 0-point robot?! You just wasted your energy fighting a worthless arena trap! This is why I have more points than you!”

He had no idea if that was true, but he’d bet on it. After all, Itsuka Kendo could pace herself throughout the whole hour. She smiled. “Aren’t you wasting your time too?”

Monoma looked down at his phone timer in horror. The seconds ticked down: 3… 2… 1…

Before Monoma could reach out to touch Kendo’s shoulder, she had already run after a 3-point villain, her giant hand waving it down. Pain stabbed through Monoma’s wrist, and he stumbled.

Both of his hands looked like bruised tomatoes. Big Fist demanded a lot from its user, so maybe he was better off Copying another Quirk. And more than one Quirk—he might as well take advantage of his ability to hold up to two Quirks at a time.

Sticky purple balls and invisibility. A dragon tail—but no dragon flame—and blade fingers. A pair of asymmetrical wings and a third eye that could shoot banana peels. He was turning himself into monster after monster.

Monoma slumped onto the ground right as his banana peel shooter vanished, returning his forehead to normal. He’d definitely break out and suffer a horrendous pimple when getting his school ID.

Kendo found him, rubbing her sore wrists. “Hi again, friendo.”

Monoma reached out with a shaky hand.

Kendo hesitated. “Your Quirk isn’t the same as mine, is it? I saw you with wings earlier that looked a lot like someone else’s. And you had an extra eye a second ago. Don’t tell me those are all the same Quirk.”

Monoma shook his head. “You got me. My Quirk is Copy, which means I can borrow other Quirks when I touch the user.” He winked. “I’m much better than any one Quirk user, so I’ll be a better Pro Hero than anyone else here!”

Kendo whistled. “Bold words for someone who can’t even stay standing after busting up some robo-villains for only 50 minutes.” She offered him her hand, and he Copied her Quirk one more time. “There are some amazing Quirks gathered here. I saw a girl with powerful vines for hair and a boy who can shoot lightning from his fingers. How about finding them and Copying their Quirks?”

Wouldn’t that be ideal? Gee, why hadn’t Monoma done that already? As he’d learned throughout the entrance exam, the better the Quirk, the harder the user was to touch. Monoma hoped that didn’t foreshadow how he’d handle villains as a Pro Hero.

But complaining would make him seem incompetent, so he laughed instead.

A series of explosions accompanied his maniacal laughter. This was the work of another examinee, but one with a super flashy Quirk.

Monoma wanted it.

The explosions caused three 3-point robots to fall toward each other. In the middle, a gangly student with wavy purple hair gawked at the looming catastrophe.

Kendo and Monoma reacted at the same time. They both activated Big Fist to hold up the robots, but their giant fingers collided. Monoma winced—pain from smashing into a giant hand, pain from his twisted wrist, pain from his earlier fatigue, pain, pain, pain. Who would’ve thought becoming a Pro Hero would involve so much of it?

Kendo shouted, “I can’t hold these robots for much longer!”

The boy with the explosion Quirk had left behind a mess to grab more points, not caring who might get hurt in his wake. With a grunt, Monoma tackled the purple-haired boy out of the way, and then Kendo let the robots crumble. 

Monoma scrutinized the boy he saved: heavy eyebags, big teeth, as much bone as skin—and Monoma’s aunts thought he was skinny! But a hard, determined glint shone in the boy’s dark eyes, and his mouth was set in a resolute line.

Monoma patted the other boy’s shoulder—“You okay?”—and Copied his Quirk.

Kendo hollered, “Are you boys okay?!”

“Yeah! You?” Monoma felt his mouth and throat tingle. The new Quirk beckoned and begged to be used.

“Yeah!”

Kendo froze. 

Monoma blinked. “Kendo?” Around them, flashy Quirks brought robots crumbling and tumbling down, shaking up the pavement. A dozen catastrophes just waited to happen. Less than ten minutes remained, examinees with those flashy Quirks were stacking up points, and Kendo didn’t move.  

“Oy! What’s your Quirk?!” Monoma spun around, but the mysterious boy had disappeared back into the chaos. He decided to test out the new Quirk on the robots; it seemed like it’d be powerful. “Villains, bow to your supreme overlord!”

Although Monoma felt the same tingling, the robots didn’t answer him, and the Quirk couldn’t be activated.

~***~

Monoma began to panic. What was Brainwash Boy thinking?! His Quirk was absolutely useless in this entrance exam, making him unsuitable to be a Pro Hero…

Just like Monoma himself. He rested a hand on his forehead and staggered to the side, basking in the drama of it all. How could he judge someone else’s Quirk when his own Quirk was literally Copying other Quirks? 

Now wasn’t the time to feel bad, though. He had only a little over five minutes left, and as awesome as he knew he was, the number of points he’d gleaned couldn’t compete with flashier Quirks. He needed to find a flashy Quirk of his own.

Monoma’s eyes rolled upward as he struggled to keep from fainting. In the distance, electricity went haywire and a dozen lightning bolts fried whatever was nearby. Was this the lightning boy Kendo was talking about earlier?

Closer to Monoma’s reach was a short, overweight boy leaning out a window in one of the prop buildings. Monoma hadn’t realized people could actually go inside. It seemed counterintuitive to breaking the robots, which were outside.

“Oy!” Monoma called out. “What are you doing?”

The boy, who had been murmuring something over and over, looked down. “I am activating my Quirk, Twin Impact, so all the robots I touched earlier receive a second, much stronger impact. It only works remotely, and it appears that many of the robots I touched ended up destroyed by my competitors. Were you responsible for some of those?”

Monoma’s heart quickened. Here was a Quirk he could use in the last five minutes of the entrance exam! Looking around at the small stones at the base of the building, he also knew he could use Twin Impact better than this boy.

Monoma cupped a hand around one ear. “Wha’? I couldn’t hear you, bud, let me climb up!”

He scooped up a handful of stones and ran up to where Twin Impact Boy was perched. He could hear the occult-like murmur: “Release. Release. Release…” When TIB saw Monoma, his pale eyebrows shot up, and he quivered, almost falling out the window. “You’re a liar.”

Monoma tossed a stone into the air. “What are you talking about?”

“You could hear me just fine.” TIB’s wide eyes shot toward the stones in Monoma’s hand. “Are you gonna hurt me? We’re all applying to be heroes, right?!”

Remembering Kendo’s words, Monoma hid the stones from the other kid’s view and offered a hand. “My name is Neito Monoma. What’s yours, kid?”

The civil introduction seemed to make TIB relax marginally, though his pale blue eyebrows still angled upward. Monoma wondered if the kid just always had that scared-stiff look. “Nirengeki Shoda. Paralyzed—I mean, pleased to make your acquaintance.” As he shook Monoma’s hand, he swallowed and worked up the courage to ask, “What… what are the stones for?”

Monoma grinned. “You called me a liar.”

Shoda gulped. “I didn’t mean to insult you, please forgive me, don’t hurt me…”

Monoma hurled all his stones out the window, letting them ricochet off buildings and robots alike. He winked at poor Shoda, who looked ready to piss his pants. “I am a liar. And I’m also a thief.” Shoda’s eyes widened further as Monoma whispered, “Release,” and the whole area crumbled to nothingness.

Chapter 3: Welcome to U.A.

Summary:

The entrance exam concludes, and the rankings are announced! Monoma begins planning his hero costume. On the first day of school, he also meets the boy he rescued in the exam—awkward meet-cute part 2 :)

Notes:

Monoma gives off rich-boy vibes. Def not at the same level as Yaoyorozu, and he isn't as well-connected as Todoroki — hence part of why he isn't a recommended student — but he still emanates "money gets me what I want" energy. But given his Quirk and goal of becoming a hero, he's used to studying diligently and working smart. ^^

The wait was more agonizing than the recovery. After what felt like eons, Monoma’s personal assistant brought the letter containing his future. Technically, the man was under his parents’ employment, but it amounted to the same thing in the end, no?

Monoma wanted to snatch the letter and tear it open with his teeth right then and there, but a certain amount of decorum was required, even in his own home. He accepted the envelope graciously, thanked Alfred, and sliced under the gold-emblazoned U.A. seal.

In the time it took to open the envelope, pull out the letter, and unfold the crisp cardstock paper, Monoma ran through the two possible outcomes in his mind. Either he would be accepted into U.A.’s hero program or he wouldn’t. Either he would be a Pro Hero better than everyone else, or the business program was better than the hero program. Whatever the outcome was, Monoma knew it would be the better one, because wasn’t he better than everyone else?

The letter contained a screen that displayed a hologram. Monoma grimaced. Of all the people the school could have chosen to represent U.A., they just had to go with the greatest hero, the Symbol of Peace—All Might.

“It’s not that I dislike him,” Monoma muttered to no one but his reflection on the framed mirror at his desk. “But I guess it makes sense for U.A. to choose someone born with a strong Quirk to represent them. After all, aren’t most Pro Heroes born with the best?”

Monoma would change that. He would show the world that he could be a hero too, even born with nothing for himself. Because if All Might was on the letter, that meant Neito Monoma was accepted into the hero program.

Although he got the message he needed, Monoma couldn’t help but watch to see the entrance exam rankings. The top examinee got 77 villain points and 0 rescue points; Monoma would bet half his points that Katsuki Bakugo was the boy who caused the explosion that almost KOed Brainwash Boy. Meanwhile, the seventh-ranking examinee got 60 rescue points and 0 villain points. The other examinees were in the middle of the spectrum, with a mix of both types of points.

Monoma started to memorize the names, wanting to know who had ranked higher than him this time, because he’d make sure it didn’t happen again. Eijiro Kirishima, Ochaco Uraraka, Ibara Shiozaki… He grimaced, feeling both warm and annoyed that Itsuka Kendo had ranked fifth while he wasn’t even in the top 10.

Monoma began skimming the rest of the names, wondering where his was. Surely U.A. wouldn’t put All Might on a rejection letter? The #1 hero of Japan had better things to do than deliver a consolation speech to a hundred or so failures, and associating him with rejection wouldn’t look good for the Hero Commission.

Monoma neared the bottom of the list. Toru Hagakure, Koji Koda, Yuga Aoyama… Neito Monoma. There he was, at the 35th of 36 possible spots; four were reserved for recommended students.

Monoma clutched his head with a silent groan. Only 29 villain points and 6 rescue points. How could so many people have done better than him? He was better than this, and he’d prove it once school started.

Out of spiteful curiosity, he glanced down at the 36th accepted student. At least he wasn’t Minoru Mineta.

Alfred knocked on the door. “Young master, the costume design package from U.A. has arrived. Congratulations on your acceptance—I am certain your parents will be pleased.”

Monoma gritted his teeth. His parents would be surprised, at least, but the only thing that pleased them was profit.

When Monoma accepted the package, he noticed the old-school pocket watch at Alfred’s hip. Alfred noticed too, and slipped the ring on top through a finger. “Do excuse me, young master. I will need to prepare tea for your father’s meeting in ten minutes.”

“I suppose a pocket watch has more class than a smartphone,” Monoma conceded.

“I beg your pardon, young master?”

“Oh, nothing.” Monoma could add a pocket watch to his costume design. He remembered his conversation with Nirengeki Shoda in the final minutes of the entrance exam.

You’re a liar.

I am a liar. And I’m also a thief.

He wanted his hero costume to represent that—with class, which was where the pocket watch came in. He’d need two of them, to time two Quirks…

Monoma counted on his fingers. In those final minutes, he’d held Kendo’s Big Fist, Brainwash Boy’s mysterious Quirk, and Shoda’s Twin Impact. Before even enrolling in U.A., he had grown to be able to hold a third Quirk.

~***~

Pink cherry blossom petals danced in the bright blue sky. Neito Monoma inhaled deeply, wanting to savor the early spring air—and then immediately almost choked on a sakura petal.

He wheezed, cleared his throat, adjusted the crisp gray suit and red tie of the U.A. school uniform, and then strolled down the golden stone path as though nothing had happened.

So much had happened. He was a hero student! He was one of 36 accepted examinees out of hundreds of hero wannabes, because he was better than them. Maybe not better than the 34 who had ranked higher than him in the entrance exam, but Monoma would climb to the top.

He looked around, wanting to memorize the faces of everyone he aimed to be better than. And he saw him. The tall purple-haired boy Monoma and Kendo had saved during the entrance exam. Despite the eyebags, he was remarkably handsome, especially in the U.A. uniform. Monoma hadn’t gotten to appreciate the other boy’s good looks in the chaos of the entrance exam, but now he smiled when he saw a pink petal land gently on a stray strand of bright purple hair.

Monoma ran a hand through his own hair, getting rid of any rebellious sakura petals, and jogged up to his future classmate. He flicked the pink petal out of the other boy’s hair and grinned up at him. “Hey BB, ‘grats on making it to U.A. as well!”

Brainwash Boy stared at him with dark, angry eyes, and Monoma gulped. Was flirting on the first day of classes too much? Did BB not like the nickname?

“Brainwash Boy,” Monoma explained with a smile. “Your Quirk is wicked cool. But how did you pass the entrance exam with it?”

BB continued staring at him for a couple seconds, unimpressed. Finally, he replied in a low, tired voice, “I didn’t. I’m in general studies.”

“Oh… oh.”

BB rested a hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah.” He bowed. “Thanks for rescuing me back there though. Excuse me.”

Monoma stared after the cute guy strolling into U.A., then mussed up his own hair in utter humiliation. “Dammit, I didn’t get his name! How could I be so thoughtless?”

A familiar voice laughed. “Let me guess,” Kendo said, “you forgot to introduce yourself properly again. You really need to work on your people skills, Monoma.” She gave him a high five. “I saw your name on the list. Congrats on making it into the hero program, friendo!”

“Right back at you, Number Five.”

Kendo startled, then played with the ends of her ponytail. “Those rankings don’t matter. We’re all at the same starting line now.”

Monoma looked back at the direction Brainwash Boy had gone. Were they really at the same starting line?

Chapter 4: Class 1-B

Summary:

Classes begin, and the students of Class 1-B get to know each other! Their homeroom teacher Mr. Kan, better known as the Blood Hero: Vlad King, sets up an icebreaker activity with a twist...

Notes:

The fun, casual interactions among side characters were fun to write! Monoma and Pony def become fast friends.

Monoma stared dejectedly after Brainwash Boy; a new sakura petal had fallen into his purple hair. He shook his head and straightened his posture, carrying himself with pride when entering the main school building.

Kendo nudged him as they changed into their indoor shoes. “Hey, don’t be down on Day One! There are plenty of proverbial fish in the ocean—besides, we won’t have much time to go on dates, unless it’s with someone else from the hero program who’d get our schedule.”

Monoma raised an eyebrow. “Ooh, do you have someone in mind for yourself?”

Kendo played with her ponytail again and almost missed their classroom. Monoma glanced at the sign: 1-B. B for better than all the other classes.

Monoma took his seat at the very back, where he could see everyone in the classroom. Kendo sat at the front, nearest the door. Behind her was the short boy whose Quirk Monoma had copied at the end of the entrance exam—Nirengeki Shoda. When he saw Monoma looking at him, his eyes widened, and he looked away quickly. Monoma thought the hairy Shishido-looking boy next to Shoda would elicit more fear.

Next to the Shishido groupie was a girl with vines for hair that reached past her waist and almost brushed against her neighbors. She must be the powerful vine user whose Quirk Monoma had wanted to Copy during the entrance exam, but he couldn’t catch up to her.

Well, he’d catch up and surpass her this semester.

In the row in front of him, some of his classmates were trying to make friends. A brown-haired boy introduced himself to a horned girl on his left. “Heyo, the name’s Kosei Tsuburaba! You’re one of the exchange students, right?”

The blonde girl replied with a strong twang, “Yessir! My name is Pony; I’m from America.”

“Cool, from the east.”

Pony blinked. “No, silly boy, from the West.”

“Hey! Doesn’t ‘from east’ make more sense?”

On his other side, a silver-haired boy yelled to make himself heard over the general chatter. “Whassup, the name’s Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu!”

Monoma snorted. He’d seen the name in the rankings but hadn’t realized that was how it was pronounced.

The petite girl on Four Tetsu’s right snickered too.

Tetsutetsu banged on the desk, his hand making a metallic echo. “Oy! No need to laugh at me, both of you! What are your names?”

Monoma smirked at him. “I’m Neito Monoma.”

“Hey, I recognize your name. Weren’t you ranked—”

“And I’m Setsuna Tokage,” the girl interrupted with a flick of her long dark hair. She drew out her S’s longer with a playful hiss.

Tetsutetsu turned his attention to her. “I don’t recognize your name from the rankings at all.”

Behind Tokage, on Monoma’s right side, a girl with a silver pixie cut muttered, “That’s because she’s one of the recommended students. Imagine, being so well-off you don’t appear on the entrance exam rankings in the acceptance letter. Are you really accepted into U.A. if you’re not on the acceptance letter?” She peered through her long bangs at Monoma, her steely blue eyes almost glowing.

Monoma shuddered. “Spooky.”

Her mouth twitched into a hesitant smile. “Yeah. Spooky.”

On her other side, a Chinese boy announced, “Konichiwa! I’m Hiryu Rin.”

In front of him, a boy with a speech bubble for a head leaned back. The characters for konichiwa appeared in the bubble. “Manga Fukidashi. Good to meet you, Rin. Hey hey, which manga do you like to read?”

Rin replied, “I prefer reading light novels.”

“Hey hey! We can’t be friends anymore.”

“What?!”

Monoma turned to his other side. A bulky boy with an industrial glue tube for a head waved at him. Monoma hesitantly waved back; Glue Head looked like the kind of person his parents employed to fill out a quota—employing enough heteromorphs in your company gave you extra tax benefits or something.

Glue leaked out of one of the holes in Glue Head’s head. “Hullo! I’m Kojiro Bondo!”

Monoma wondered what would happen if he Copied Bondo’s Quirk. Would his whole head turn into a glue tube, or would he just ooze glue out of his eyes? He tried not to dwell on it, because he knew his face would show his horror. “Neito Monoma. Quirk: Copy.”

More glue oozed out of Bondo’s eye holes, and he sulked in his seat, though he mumbled in reply, “My Quirk is called Cemedine.”

Before Monoma could taunt Bondo into explaining what the hell “Cemedine” was, the door slammed shut, and a large man with a severe underbite marched to the front. He wore a red hero suit with tubes along his limbs, like a cross between a Pro Hero and an escaped hospital patient.

In a booming voice, he announced, “Welcome to U.A., future heroes! I’m your homeroom teacher—you’ll call me Mr. Kan in the classroom, but you may recognize me as the Blood Hero: Vlad King.”

Several of the students shook their heads; the Blood Hero didn’t really make the billboards. But the short-haired girl’s hand shot up. “You made a guest appearance on the after-midnight show 100 More Spooky Quirks Resembling Myths from Transylvania. You were on Episode 144—it was spooky!”

Spooky that she knows that, Monoma thought.

Mr. Kan planted his fists on his hips. “Correct, Yanagi! Please don’t watch after-midnight shows during the semester though. But anyway, enough about me! To get to know your classmates better, we’ll start the school year with an icebreaker activity!”

The class groaned. Hiryu Rin raised his hand. “Mr. Kan, we already introduced ourselves to the people around us. We don’t need to do an icebreaker!”

Mr. Kan pointed at a random student—the boy who had chatted with the American exchange student. “Tsuburaba, tell me the names of the classmates next to you.”

Tsuburaba cocked his head to the left. “The chick’s name is Pony.”

Rin muttered, “How presumptive.”

Tokage remarked, “Are the two of you close?”

“No, I just met her.”

Pony’s horns perked up. “Oh! My full name is Pony Tsunotori. Everyone at home just calls me Pony though.”

Tsuburaba’s face reddened. “Okay… and I don’t know the dude’s name.”

Four Tetsu banged his fists on the desk, scratching the surface. “It’s Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! Don’t you forget it!”

“Okay… I’m definitely not forgetting that.”

Pony giggled. “Four Tetsu.”

Monoma grinned at her. Great minds think alike.  

Mr. Kan shook his head. “You won’t really get to know each other until you work together. And that’s why we’re starting with an icebreaker!”

Half an hour later, Class 1-B had changed into their gym clothes and were gathered in the Delta Field, where a literal giant block of ice waited to be broken.

~***~

A boy with no lips, making his teeth stick out of his skin, prowled the area, each footstep carrying the weight of his Quirk. While Monoma had never met him in person, he recognized Juzo Honenuki, whose father was the Minister of State for Disaster Management and used his Quirk to prevent earthquakes and other natural disasters. It was said that the son’s Quirk was even more powerful and had the potential to be used for disaster prevention, rescue, and combat.

Other students stared at the block of ice dumbly. Rin rapped his knuckles against the ice. “What is the deal? Is this not just a sheet of ice that any of us could break through on our own?”

Tetsutetsu roared, ripped open his gym shirt to pound his steel chest, and charged at the ice. He bounced back without inflicting so much as a dent.

Kendo frowned, placing an enlarged hand over the ice. “This is no ordinary ice…”

Pony declared, “Then we just have to use our combined force to break through! Bull Tetsu, to my horns!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Pony detached her horns, wrapped them around Tetsutetsu’s waist to hold him parallel to the ground, and then launched him at the ice at high velocity.

The echoing ring made Monoma and several other students wince. Tetsutetsu rubbed his bruised steel forehead ruefully. Monoma glanced up at Mr. Kan, who stood at the back of the gym with his arms crossed.

Shoda glanced at Kendo nervously and waved his arms to try to get everyone’s attention. “Guys, I think Kendo is on to something…”

A green heteromorph bellowed a war cry straight out of a video game and chipped away at the ice with the blades on his elbows. Ice crystals sprinkled onto his light green hair, but the ice remained pristine. He hollered, his voice scratchy, “Kaibara, try using Gyrate!”

Kaibara and Fukidashi unleashed twin war cries as they threw everything they had at the ice. Kaibara paused his drilling in time to roll out of the way as Fukidashi’s spiky speech bubble stuck itself into the ice.

The Shishido groupie tucked his glasses into the pocket inside the U.A. gym clothes and charged at the block of ice head-on.

Tsuburaba used his Solid Air Quirk to prevent the beast boy from giving himself a concussion.

As the students thrust all their power at the ice, Monoma walked over to Kendo. “What were you saying about the ice?”

Kendo blew a strand of orange hair away from her face. “If anyone would bother to listen or think for two seconds, we’d all realize this isn’t the kind of ice we’re used to.”

Nearby, a prim girl with shoulder-length black hair nodded. “I get what you’re saying. This may be ice VII, which is formed from water above three gigapascals, or 30,000 times atmospheric pressure, making it metastable.”

Kendo whistled. “You’re smart, friendo. What’s your name?”

Monoma asked at the same time, “What’s your Quirk?”

Ten minutes later, Honenuki strolled up to them with a toothy grin. He propped an elbow up on Monoma’s shoulder, gave the class a thumb’s up, and winked at Kodai, who rolled her eyes but strode toward Pony, who had detached another pair of horns.

The ice was resting on less stable ground. Ibara Shiozaki’s vines tugged the giant block of ice in position, guided by Tokage, who had detached an eye from the rest of her body to give her a bird’s eye view of Delta Field. Kinoko Komori, Shihai Kuroiro, Bondo, and Yanagi each went to one corner of the ice block and started pulling a vine. More students joined them to help until the ice lifted an inch off the ground, just enough for Komori to grow mushrooms beneath it, putting it on even less stable ground.

With Pony’s horns enlarged, she couldn’t move them with as high velocity, but when the tips reached the ice, Yosetsu Awase used his Quirk to weld them on.

Tokage assessed the area, then yelled, “Clear!”

With a grin, Kendo planted a foot onto the ground and swung her giganticized hand at the welded horns. At once, the ice shattered.

As the first years laughed and screamed from the sudden gust of cold air, Mr. Kan applauded them. “Not bad teamwork, Class 1-B! You’re now ready for the next exercise…”

Chapter 5: Villains Rising

Summary:

Class 1-B must decide on a class rep and vice-class rep! This chapter tells the story of how they end up choosing Kendo and Shoda, and hints at the first upcoming villain attack against the school...

Notes:

It's fun integrating Class 1-B's antics and experiences with canon. Also, Monoma has a solitary hobby that'll play a role later :)

“Voting for a class rep?! But that’s so normal!” Class 1-B exclaimed. 

U.A. had built a reputation for its rigorous hero program, isolated from most ordinary school activities. In fact, hero students were the only students in U.A. who couldn’t join clubs, which was devastating to Monoma. How was he supposed to show off his crocheting skills? How was he supposed to see BB from general studies? Was he really expected to go straight home every day? His personal assistant Alfred knew he’d struggled to make friends in middle school — as it turned out, his classmates only appreciated Quirk twinning in elementary school — and the thought of his personal assistant knowing his lack of social life continued in high school made Monoma want to crawl under his desk, mortified.

At least the no-clubs rule was in place for the purpose of getting the hero students to train after classes—but Monoma wondered how long it’d take for his classmates to be annoyed at him constantly Copying their Quirks, and how much pity he’d garner from his teachers for asking to Copy theirs.

Hero students weren’t exempt from all regular school activities though. But after the intensity of the icebreaker activity, voting for a class rep seemed so mundane.

“You heard me!” Mr. Kan declared at the front of the class, with the students back in their school uniforms. Monoma leaned to the side to see past Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, whose spiky metallic hair obscured his view. Mr. Kan was wearing a formal three-piece suit with a bright red tie the same shade as his hero suit, as though to exemplify the dignity the class rep ought to demonstrate. “Just as the Hero Commission recognizes All Might as the Symbol of Peace, the hero to represent all heroes, so you must be able to select two students among you to represent your class.”

Monoma nodded. He supposed that made sense.

“And to ensure an optimal democratic process,” Mr. Kan continued, spewing words that seemed to come right from foreign comic books, “all voting will be done anonymously. Write the name of a student you want to represent Class 1-B, and I’ll tally up all the votes.”

A paper voting system was obsolete, but apparently U.A.’s April budget for first-year hero students, while plentiful, had been depleted from the entrance exam robots, the holographic acceptance letters, and the costume requests. Not to mention the giant block of ice Mr. Kan had made his class pulverize.

Monoma glanced at the front corner of the class, where Kendo sat primly, her orange ponytail pristine.

Mr. Kan tallied up the counts. Kendo had two votes, while most of the rest of the class had one, including Monoma. “Well, one class rep has been decided! But as for the rest of you,” Mr. Kan crushed the chalk in his hand, “are you just voting for yourselves?!”

Monoma stifled a growl. He had voted for Kendo! But because someone else had voted for him, now it made him look like a basic narcissist who’d vote for himself. Which student had zero votes? Monoma scanned the class, and tried not to stare at Reiko Yanagi sitting next to him.

That didn’t prove anything though. Yanagi could have voted for Kendo, who then could’ve voted for Monoma. Or maybe Kendo voted for someone else who then voted for Monoma. The chain went on.

Yanagi’s voice echoed in his mind—“Spooky.”

“Vote again for your vice class-rep,” Mr. Kan ordered. “And don’t vote for yourselves!”

Monoma looked around the class; who had contributed the most in the icebreaker? Certainly Yui Kodai and Pony Tsunotori had played key roles, but Ibara Shiozaki and Setsuna Tokage had led the set-up. Monoma supposed Bull Tetsu had probably weakened the ice the most, but no sane person would choose someone whose head echoed on impact to represent their class.

Mr. Kan harrumphed when he finished tallying the votes. This time, there was a three-vote tie between Yui Kodai, Ibara Shiozaki, Juzo Honenuki, Nirengeki Shoda, and Neito Monoma.

Monoma smirked. Three students in Class 1-B must be particularly intelligent to have voted for him.

Mr. Kan began, “You’ll now vote for one of these five—”

“Mr. Kan,” Shiozaki said with a pale ivory hand raised. “I appreciate that you have opted to use an anonymous voting system for us to decide on our class reps. However, I am concerned about the amount of paper we are burning through with each successive round of voting.”

Two seats to Monoma’s right, Hiryu Rin muttered something in Mandarin—probably an exasperated “tree hugger.”

Mr. Kan arched a pale gray eyebrow. “Very well. We’ll use a raised-hand system.”

Monoma grinned. He’d be sure to treat whoever voted for him to a latte later, as recognition of their superior taste.

Mr. Kan inquired, “Who would like the vice class-rep to be—”

“FEAR NOT, FOR I AM HERE!” a deep voice bellowed. “Here on time to give Class 1-B a tour of U.A. as requested!”

Mr. Kan’s jaw twitched. “I appreciate your punctuality, All Might, but do you think you could wait just—”

“Nope!” All Might responded with his characteristic bright smile that irritated Monoma. The #1 Pro Hero loomed even bigger than Vlad King. “I have an appointment with Class 1-A later today that I can’t be late for!”

“Of course.” Mr. Kan sighed. “Students, think about your vote and let me know your choice at the end of the day. Class dismissed!”

~***~

Monoma mapped out each section of the main campus in his mind. He gravitated toward the business studies classes, knowing how close he’d been to ending up here. And he made a mental note to avoid the support program workshops, which were noisy and smelly and gave him a headache. To his disappointment, the general studies classes were as far away from the hero classes as possible without being outside; BB might remain an esoteric presence in Monoma’s mind throughout all of high school.

Outside, Shiozaki stretched her hands out toward the greenhouse, where flowers and leaves the shape of human hands peeked out from between the slats. “Oh, what a cruel fate that I am separated from the gardening club! Divine intervention be bestowed on the gardening club members so they may be able to manage without my assistance.”

Monoma liked Shiozaki, but he was pretty sure the gardening club could manage just fine without her.

All Might assured her, “Worry not, Young Shiozaki, for you are here! As an aspiring hero!”

“Thank you, All Might.”

Before All Might could extend his pep talk to the rest of Class 1-B, Principal Nezu scuttled toward them. The anthropomorphic mouse climbed onto All Might’s shoulder and whispered into his ear.

All Might’s golden-blond eyebrows shot up. “I will clear that up.” Most of the students were distracted by the waving plants from the greenhouse, but Monoma overheard All Might continue, “I made the right decision choosing Class 1-A over—”

“Hey Monoma, check this out!” Yosetsu Awase hollered. A bunch of the boys had gathered a little away from the rest of the class, near the gates. Sen Kaibara, Kosei Tsuburaba, and the green-haired heteromorph Togaru Kamakiri were laughing, Manga Fukidashi’s head formed an exclamatory speech bubble, and poor Nirengeki Shoda kept glancing around like they might get in trouble at any moment.

This looked interesting. With a scowl thrown at All Might, who was focused on Principal Nezu — the rodent principal tugged the muscular hero back to the school building — Monoma jogged toward Awase and the others. “What’s up?”

Fukidashi clapped a paper-white hand on Monoma’s shoulder, his voice hoarse from laughing. “Hound Dog is sniffing out intruders but can’t smell that weird old man whose head looks like it’s made from vaporized ink!”

Monoma thought it was weird that Fukidashi and Kamakiri would make fun of another heteromorph, but he had to admit—that man embodied weirdness. His height and posture suggested he wasn’t as old as Fukidashi made him sound; he might be around the same age as Alfred, around 30. He also dressed like a personal assistant, with a dark vest over a white dress shirt.

Monoma had wondered earlier what it would be like to Copy Kojiro Bondo’s Cemedine Quirk, but Copying this weirdo’s Quirk would be even more fascinating—and horrifying. Would his whole body dissipate to an inky haze? Where would all his organs go? The shadowy man looked like he didn’t have a face, except maybe the slits of light that could function as eyes; did he have a brain? Consciousness? A soul?

Monoma swore none of them had moved, but in the span of a blink, they were now right in front of the creepy personal assistant-looking man who gave “heteromorph” a new definition. 

“Ah,” Fukidashi croaked out, his head becoming a more timid speech bubble.

“Ah,” Kamakiri rasped, his pale green skin taking on a blue hue.

“Ah,” Tsuburaba blurted, his eyes widening.

Shoda looked around, but they were far from everyone else. Hound Dog knew they were on a campus tour, so he wouldn’t think them being slightly out of grounds was a big deal. And he couldn’t smell the shadow-bodied man.

Monoma cleared his throat. “Can we help you, sir?”

The man reached out with a shadowy hand.

Monoma could Copy that Quirk—but he froze.

Kaibara and Kamakiri began to stretch out their arms to stop the man—but they froze.

Tsuburaba and Fukidashi took a deep breath to unleash their Quirks—but they froze.

Awase whispered, “We’re so screwed.”

Shoda cleared his throat loudly, making the creep hesitate. His voice trembled as he said, “Mister, what you’re about to do is highly inappropriate. In fact, it would make you a villain. And as a student in U.A.’s hero program, I also want to look after the well-being of all my classmates. Please leave the school premises.” His voice cracked and shot up an octave on the last word.

But he had been the only one who had spoken up to protect them. The man stared at the gates to U.A. for a few seconds longer, then vanished.

~***~

END OF THE U.A. BEGINNINGS ARC

NEXT ARC: Stain of Hero Society

Chapter 6: Hitoshi Shinso: Rising

Summary:

We're starting a new arc with the Sports Fest! Most of Class 1-B didn't advance to the tournament bracket, so they consider betting on who'll win each match. However, this gets interrupted when Monoma hears from his parents about the Hero Killer...

Notes:

I def see Monoma and Pony as BFFs. They can learn a lot from each other's experiences, as Pony grew up in the U.S., which is like the superhero capital. As a result, she'd also be more familiar with those who'd support Stain's anti-hero actions. Meanwhile, Monoma is also familiar with how Pro Heroes are linked with profit and the economy, which certain Shiketsu students will further showcase in later chapters.

“We had a sports festival back in America,” Pony was telling Monoma, “but it was mainly, ya’ know, sports.”

Monoma was half-listening; his pale gaze surveyed the gathered crowd. Traditional events like the Olympics had become obsolete compared to what Quirks could accomplish; if U.A. had a literal sports fest like the name suggested, would all these spectators have shown up for that too?

Pony bumped into him, spilling some of the popcorn she’d convinced the business students to supply. “Oof!” She rubbed her button nose. “But yeah, no one’s gonna watch a bunch of high schoolers play sports. But beating each other to a pulp? That’s the good stuff.”

Monoma smiled down at her. “You know what people in Japan would say?” He leaned down to whisper into her ear.

Hiryu Rin scurried toward them, his braid flapping behind him. “Oy! Monoma, are you teaching Tsunotori things that will get her in trouble?”

Pony made finger guns and declared, “That’s the shit!”

Rin’s face reddened—and after a month of intensive hero training, Monoma knew it wasn’t from exertion. He loved scandalizing the morally upright, uptight international student.

Slinging an arm around Pony’s shoulders, Monoma assured, “Pony can’t get in trouble; Japanese isn’t her first language.”

Rin placed a hand on his hip. “Then you’ll get in trouble for teaching her such things!”

“I can’t get in trouble, I’m rich.”

Rin snorted and looked away in annoyance. Manga Fukidashi sprinted toward him. “Hey Rin! This is your first sports fest in Japan, right? It’s too bad we didn’t make it to the tournament bracket, but you should still enjoy it to the fullest.”

Rin leaned on the bleacher railing. “Take me away from here and I will have my enjoyment.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Rin swatted him. “Obviously not!” He scooped up a handful of popcorn when Pony offered it. “Tell me the business students brought better, less dry snacks.”

“Even better—Monoma, you come too, Awase and the others were looking for you.” Fukidashi’s speech-bubble head tilted so the speech arrow pointed at the boys clustered around the cocky business students.

Monoma cocked his head as an invitation for Pony to join them too, though the boys might be an even worse influence on her. Wasn’t that what friends were for, ultimately? Admittedly, Monoma hadn’t had many if any friends before U.A., but he had seen his classmates pull each other away from their studies and even skip school.

In a program as competitive as U.A.’s hero course, no one dared skip school or fall behind; rumors circulated earlier in the school year that one of the teachers would expel the bottom-ranking student after each test, and at one point had even expelled his whole class. Monoma would bet good money it had been Mr. Aizawa, Class 1-A’s scary, sleep-deprived homeroom teacher.

Monoma was grateful that Mr. Kan was a lot more supportive and engaging as a teacher, structuring lessons and training drills to promote collaboration among Class 1-B. And Monoma liked his friends and classmates; they studied together, often under Yui Kodai’s or Juzo Honenuki’s tutelage, and the others never expressed annoyance when Monoma Copied their Quirks to train. He was gradually increasing how long he could hold each Quirk for.

Next year, he’d be the one on the battlefield. And he’d win the whole damn tournament.

One of the business students was calling for bets as the first match got set up. Kosei Tsuburaba stared at the bookkeeping record with wide, dejected eyes. “I suck at betting.”

Sen Kaibara elbowed him. “This one’s a given—someone from Class 1-A against someone from general studies! Even you can’t lose your money here, Tsuburaba.”

Yosetsu Awase glanced at Monoma. “Hey, don’t be too mean, Kaibara—the general studies kid is the guy Monoma likes!”

Monoma’s eyebrows twitched. Yell it louder so our teachers can hear, why don’t you?

The business students stared at Monoma with distaste, and Pony tugged on the sleeve of Monoma’s jumper, pouting. “You like someone, Monoma? Why don’t I know about him?”

Setsuna Tokage laughed; Monoma looked at her in surprise—standing next to Togaru Kamakiri, she blended in with the group. “Sweet Pony, isn’t it obvious? He looks at this kid smitten every other day at lunch.” She sighed with a playful smirk. “It’s a star-crossed love story between a hero student and someone from general studies.”

Monoma harrumphed. “He’ll be a hero student too! The sports fest is an opportunity for students from general studies to be recruited into the hero program, and I’m sure they’ll recruit him after this—I’d bet on it and collect from the rest of you with interest!”

The others stared at him. Tokage cleared her throat and spoke first. “No one’s betting against you, Monoma.”

Kaibara added, “Do you even know the guy’s name?”

Monoma turned around to look at the tournament bracket. The screen showed a close-up of Brainwash Boy—who needed a better nickname than something that gave the same initials as Binoculars Boy, who had tried to push Monoma out a third-storey window in middle school—and Monoma stared, impressed. The boy’s heavy eyebags and angry eyebrows gave him an intense, determined look.

Monoma turned back and replied in triumph, “Hitoshi Shinso.”

Tsuburaba whispered to Awase, “He totally just looked.”

Kaibara rolled his eyes. The business students snickered, earning a swatting from Pony and Fukidashi. Rin declared that betting was an unsavory activity and marched away, followed by Fukidashi, who waved at the others and vowed to convert the morally righteous international student.

Kamakiri joined Monoma at the railing as Shinso and the plain-looking kid from Class 1-A walked onto the battlefield. “That’ll be you next year. You were hella close this time, Monoma.”

“‘Close’ doesn’t cut it,” Monoma retorted. As Kamakiri returned to join Tokage and the others in pestering the business students, Monoma turned slightly away from the battlefield—but he couldn’t take his eyes off Shinso. That intensity, the determination to go beyond what everyone expected of him—it reminded Monoma of himself.

~***~

Eijiro Kirishima and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu were taking the arm-wrestling contest way. Too. Seriously. But since they were hero students using their Quirks to settle the tie from their earlier tournament battle, the crowd ate it up.

Next to Monoma in the bleachers, Pony yawned. “Arm wrestling, whoop de doo. If I wanted to watch boring ol’ sports, I’d be back in America.”

“Lighten up, Pony, and cheer your lungs out for Buff Tetsu.”

Pony yelled encouragement at her classmate, busting Monoma’s ears in the process. Itsuka Kendo, Jurota Shishida, and Manga Fukidashi started a synchronized cheer, only for Buff Tetsu’s steel arm to splinter and the metallic boy to succumb to defeat.

Kirishima roared in triumph, earning a returning roar of approval from the crowd. Monoma could barely hear Tetsutetsu complain he should’ve taken more iron supplements, and Reiko Yanagi behind him murmuring, “He didn’t hear our cheering for him. Spooky.”

“Next time,” Monoma declared, “our Tetsutetsu will get the upper hand for sure!”

When the crowd calmed somewhat, hyped for the last match of the first round—the violent Katsuki Bakugo against Ochako Uraraka, which spelled trouble—Monoma noticed his phone buzzing with texts from his parents.

He tapped Pony’s shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

Pony waved at him. “Get me more popcorn, ‘kay?”

Monoma found some privacy and quiet in the tunnel, which fortunately still had signal. He called his parents. “Did something happen with the company?”

His mother answered first. “The best thing since merging the support-item department into Detnerat!”

Monoma sighed in relief. “All right, I’m glad things are going well. Listen, I’m still in school, so—”

“But listen to this!” his father burst out, too excited to listen. “You know how the Hero Killer Stain-whats-his-face has been stamping around putting heroes out of commission? Heh. Heroes out of commission.”

Monoma sighed again, this time exasperated. After Mr. Kan had warned them about the notorious killer’s rampage a few days ago and emphasized the dangers of hero work, Class 1-B unofficially decided to avoid talking about it as a whole. It was too discouraging to dwell on, that people out there hated Pro Heroes for doing their job. Kendo brought it up often though, never one to back down from something controversial but worth discussing. Monoma and Pony spoke about it too, and Monoma appreciated that he got to hear about anti-hero sentiment overseas from someone who lived through it.

“Then why be a hero?” Monoma had asked.

Pony stared at him with wide eyes across the small café table. “Maybe they have a point, ya know? But sittin’ around complainin’ about it won’t do anything—it’s from the inside where I can make the biggest difference, ya follow?” 

And in his distraction, she swooped in and stole a bite of his waffles.

In the present, Monoma’s father blabbered, “Since Stain’s ideology is catching on, we’re planning merch based on his iconic look! As soon as he’s no longer an active threat and only his ideals remain, we’ll release the merch to make the most profit!”

Does he forget I’m training to be a Pro Hero, the very person Stain’s ideals condemn?  

“That,” Monoma told his parents, barely able to contain his anger, “is the worst idea ever.” He hung up.

Monoma sank onto the ground, his back pressed against the tunnel’s cold steel. After a few seconds, he noticed someone standing next to him, leaning back against the tunnel. Shinso murmured, “What does someone like you have to be depressed about?”

Monoma exhaled. “I like you, Shinso. But not right now.” He stood up, ignoring Shinso’s startled look—which he’d ordinarily think was pretty cute—and returned to his classmates.

Chapter 7: The Hero Killer

Summary:

Monoma and some of the other students of Class 1-B decide to sneak out to search for the Hero Killer! They infiltrate Hosu City, pick out disguises, and meet up with a fellow student who wants to join their doomed mission...

Notes:

This is probably the most out-there arc in this fic, in terms of fitting with the canon. But my original plan of showing all ten final exam battles in detail was really boring, especially since we already know how they all end. This was a lot more fun to write, even if we also pretty much know how it'll end. :)

“This,” Manga Fukidashi announced, the boys gathered outside in shorts and short-sleeved shirts despite the evening chill, “sounds like it could get us in heaps of trouble.”

Togaru Kamakiri elbowed him, his elbow blades fortunately sheathed. “Don’t you like trouble? It’ll be like in your yakuza manga.”

Kosei Tsuburaba’s wide eyes glanced side to side. “Are we actually dealing with yakuza? Aren’t they, like, extinct now?”

Yosetsu Awase rubbed his hands. “We’re going up against someone more dangerous than an old-timey yakuza or even the Villain League, Tsuburaba—we’ll be battling Stain the Hero Killer himself!”

Monoma winced, and Sen Kaibara knuckled both Tsuburaba’s and Awase’s heads, his Gyrate Quirk fortunately not activated. “Will you two idiots shut it? It’s bad enough our parents think we’re celebrating the Sports Fest with classmates while U.A. thinks we went home hours ago; the last thing we need—”

“Howdy, boys!” Pony greeted, louder than necessary. She sidled up to them in a tank top and shorts, her school uniform stashed safely away.

Awase and Tsuburaba, rubbing their heads ruefully, started chatting with her, but Kaibara and Kamakiri stared at Monoma in dismay. The heteromorph spoke first: “Her? Why’d you invite her along?”

Monoma gave a half smile. “I figured I owe her for not telling her about Shinso. Besides, Horn Cannon is the only long-range Quirk in our group besides Tsuburaba’s and, well, Fukidashi’s.”

Fukidashi shook his head. “Comic is risky enough to use in a place as crowded as Hosu. If you want any deniability at all, it’ll have to be a no-show for me.” He mimed zipping his lips and even let his speech-bubble head black out for a few seconds. “I won’t snitch, though.”

While walking back to the auditorium functioning as a banquet hall for Sports Festival participants — though realistically, only hero students showed up — Fukidashi passed by Setsuna Tokage, and they waved at each other. Fukidashi gestured toward the others, and Kaibara rolled his eyes. “He won’t snitch, he says.”

Awase squinted. “No, she’s in civilian clothes—is she joining us?”

Kamakiri rubbed a nervous hand through his mane as Tokage skipped toward them, the frills of her sun dress fluttering over her shorts. 

Monoma mimicked his tall green friend. “Her? ” He turned to their newest companion. “Good to have you, Tokage. Your Quirk will come in handy.”

Tokage licked her lips, which Kamakiri imitated probably without even thinking. “I know. It’s why I’m coming, to make sure you lot don’t get in trouble.”

Monoma appraised the group. Setsuna Tokage, Quirk: Lizard Tail Splitter. Next to her, Togaru Kamakiri, Quirk: Razor Sharp. Looking annoyed as usual, Sen Kaibara, Quirk: Gyrate; he had managed to nick an extra copy of his finger armor from the support course workshop, which he put on now. Chatting with him, Yosetsu Awase, Quirk: Weld. And managing to look both nervous and excited, Kosei Tsuburaba, Quirk: Solid Air. Lastly, holding up the perfume bottle that would throw Shishido off their scent, Pony Tsunotori, Quirk: Horn Cannon.

Monoma nodded. “Let’s get going.”

As they ran through the forest bordering U.A., Pony spritzing the perfume along their path so they couldn’t be followed, Kamakiri said, “You sure about this? It isn’t our fight.”

“Kamakiri,” Tokage chided her boyfriend, “we’re training to be Pro Heroes. Stain attacks Pro Heroes. This is very much our fight.”

“Then why are we sneaking out?”

“You can back out,” Awase said. “Seriously, man, no judgment.”

Monoma’s fingers curled into fists. “There are people out there who hope to profit off Stain’s celebrity status. But if we show the world how dangerous he is, they’ll think twice about celebrating him.”

“Seriously?!” Awase blurted. “Are we supposed to just act as bait?!”

“Not at all,” Monoma assured him. The hill sloped sharply from here, so they slid down on their sneakers. “We’ll subdue him so I can Copy his Quirk. Then we’ll bring him out in public so I can use his Quirk on him with everyone watching! Of course, we’ll have disguises.”

They paused at the edge of the road. A car passed by, and then all was quiet. Kaibara cleared his throat. “I’d like us all to think about this awful mess of a plan. Really, think about it.”

Monoma gritted his teeth. Yes, he knew it was a stupid plan. But he was only going through with it because his friends were capable of getting out of the way when things would get messy; he’d Copy Tokage’s Quirk first to assist their escape and make sure they didn’t get hurt. As for himself, he didn’t care. As long as the world knew—

Pony gasped, as though just realizing something. “We’ll have disguises! Oh, I like this plan.”

~***~

Hosu City had a bustling nightlife, which the group got a taste of even before leaving the train station — street performers put up an act of dastardly villains in vivid costumes drunkenly half-chortling, half-singing — so the group had plenty of options to choose from. Most of them chose their disguises quickly: Awase and Tsuburaba threw on thrift-shop hoodies, dime-a-dozen face masks, and sunglasses; Kaibara found a white cloak and gas mask; Pony was decked out like a cowgirl, complete with the hat, a bandana covering half her face, and even chaps as though she was riding a horse; and Kamakiri looked like a three-headed plague doctor, two side beaks fitting his pincers while the end of his cloak trailed behind him.

“You’ll trip on that,” Awase warned. Kamakiri unsheathed his elbow blades to trim the cloak, the jagged cut revealing the ripped skinny jeans he’d also picked out.

Monoma and Tokage took longer, browsing through thrift-shop evening wear.

“You realize,” Kaibara commented when Monoma held up a sparkling purple gown for Tokage, “we’re going into battle.”

Tokage declared, “After this failed mission, I want to go clubbing!”

Kamakiri placed an arm around her shoulders, and Tsuburaba elbowed Monoma. “She’s pretty blunt, but we’re all thinking it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Monoma retorted. “We’re clearly underage and no club would be fooled otherwise.”

Kaibara and Awase exchanged a look. “Even he admits this mission is doomed.”

Finally, Tokage settled on a leotard with matching leopard-print sleeves, leggings, and masquerade mask. Monoma, unable to decide, picked three different phantom masks, two fur-trimmed capes, and a pair of bold tiger-striped pants. He stuffed the extra masks and cape into a duffel bag. Though he paid for everything he took, he couldn’t help but think, Phantom Thief.

Outside, passersby glanced at them but looked away quickly. Pony tugged on Monoma’s arm and remarked, louder than necessary, “Hey Neito, isn’t that your crush?!”

Inside a Hot-Topic-esque shop, Hitoshi Shinso browsed through the decadent clothing items. He looked like a regular in his leather jacket, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he tried on various chain bracelets. Tokage whistled, alarming Kamakiri. “That look would suit him.”

Monoma strode into the shop, remembering his disguise too late when the cashier shrieked. He walked right up to Shinso and stared up at him, then down, imagining the taller boy in leather and fishnets, thorn and diamond piercings, maybe even silver chains around his forehead like a crown. Setsuna Tokage was right—Hitoshi Shinso would look absolutely lethal.

It was only when a couple customers giggled and left, entertained for the evening, that Monoma realized how creepy he must have looked. He took off the frightening mask and scowled. “Why didn’t you react?”

Shinso stared back at him through narrow, heavy eyes and replied simply, “I’m very, very tired.”

“Okay, fair. You were awesome at the Sports Fest. Sorry if I was rude earlier—here, put on a smile.” Monoma offered him a smiling phantom mask from his bag.

Shinso didn’t move. “Why the hell are you dressed like that?”

“I,” Monoma said, clinging onto as much of his remaining dignity as he could, “am Phantom Thief.” He winked. “Call me your hero, ‘kay?”

Shinso didn’t react. Just then, Awase marched in, his face red beneath the sunglasses and mask. In a grandiose, All-Might-like voice, he announced, “I am here to stop you from further harassing this poor general studies student—and yes, I drew the short straw. But seriously, Stain will have maimed all the heroes in Hosu City and moved on at this rate.”

Now Shinso looked alert. “You’re going after Stain the Hero Killer?”

Monoma blurted, “No, we’re going after Stain the Ketchup Seller. Of course we’re—you know what, forget you saw me.”

Shinso grabbed Monoma’s wrist, imprinting the blond boy’s chain bracelet into both of them. “I want to come too.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Monoma protested, but Shinso snatched up the phantom mask and bought fishnet sleeves, fingerless gloves, and heavy chains—did he plan to use those as a weapon or something to bind the Hero Killer, or were they just for show? Monoma didn’t mind either way. He even tolerated the cashier’s stifled giggles. 

As they left the shop, Shinso added, deadpan, “Maybe he does also sell ketchup. That could explain the red stains.”

Monoma laughed, and Tsuburaba stared at them like they were idiots. All eight of them must have been foolish enough to be in Hosu City at night hunting down the Hero Killer. And even though Monoma had come up with the plan, he felt like a fool when the Hero Killer leapt from a rooftop and landed in front of them.

Chapter 8: Phantom Thief

Summary:

Monoma, Shinso, and a handful of students from Class 1-B encounter Stain, and the battle begins! They manage to figure out Stain's Quirk, but can Monoma actually use it? What's more, their battle reveals a dark truth about hero society...

Notes:

I realized belatedly that Tokage's alias system probably would've worked better if the group didn't have three people whose last names start with T and two whose last names start with K. :P

The first thing Monoma thought was that their disguises had actually worked, and Stain must have mistaken them for minor heroes. The second thing he thought was that they were screwed if they fought in the open, with all these civilians around—and Shinso.

Monoma tapped Tokage’s shoulder to Copy her Quirk. But just as he split his limbs, ready to shove the Hero Killer into a quiet alley and carry Shinso away, Stain cast them a disdainful glance and then sprinted away.

Awase blinked. “Did he just…?”

In unison, the disguised students ran after Stain. Monoma struggled to put himself back together so he didn’t look like a pair of running, tiger-stripe-clad legs with the rest of his body dismembered. Small bells on the sides of his phantom mask chimed as the whole mask itself rattled, threatening a brain injury by the end of the night. Passersby cheered them on and recorded them on their phones, crying out that a group of revelers was pursuing the notorious Hero Killer. If Monoma and his friends failed here, they’d amount to nothing more than just another viral video of anonymous hecklers in the background of Stain’s rising ideology.

Stain took a sharp turn into an area where fewer passersby had smartphones and even fewer actually cared; one civilian, wearing a grease-stained shirt, looked up from his drink to watch the chase with bleary eyes. Monoma leaped over a fallen garbage bin and almost slipped on an oil spill. His fur-trimmed cape blew behind him as he picked up speed and hollered, “Coward! We’re so much better than your run-of-the-mill revelers! We’re training to be—”

Kaibara elbowed him. “Idiot! Don’t say that out loud—not after the trouble we went through to disguise ourselves.”

Monoma clapped a hand over his mouth for a second before removing it to breathe more easily while running. His near slip-up would have gotten U.A. in trouble too. And Shinso wasn’t even actually a hero student—

Damn. Now Monoma paused, turning around to check on Shinso. The general studies student was a few blocks behind, having just made it into the ghetto and looking like he might keel over from the exertion. He took off the extra phantom mask Monoma had given him to yell something.

“Mono—M!” Tokage cried out, catching herself.

Monoma barely had time to dodge, splitting his body on instinct so Stain’s sword sliced through him but didn’t cut any skin. Instead it cut through the mask, slicing it neatly in half. The mask’s cheap material crumpled in on itself, and the glass bells shattered on the uneven asphalt.

Covering his face with one hand, Monoma whipped out the last phantom mask—a contorted open frown, like a silent scream. “Call me Phantom Thief!” he snapped.

“This again?” Awase groaned.

Kaibara shouted, “A, get down!”

Awase ducked, barely avoiding Stain’s sword. Kaibara caught it between his armored fingers, the drills grating against the blade until Stain pushed through and nicked him.

As Kaibara stumbled back, Stain brought his sword to his mouth… and licked the boy’s blood off the blade. Pony squealed in disgust, Awase and Tsuburaba gagged, and Monoma cringed.

Kaibara tumbled, unable to brace himself. His gas mask made his face unreadable, but while his white cloak moved with his breathing, he didn’t get up.

So this is the Hero Killer’s power.

“Hero students,” Stain snarled. “I don’t care what your names are; I don’t even know the names of most of the heroes I ended. It isn’t your names that matter, but your deeds, and no one ever acts like a true hero—like All Might.”

Pony blinked. “All Might?”

Monoma clenched his fists and stood in front of Kaibara, who still wasn’t getting up. “I don’t care about All Might, or even most other heroes, but we’re better than what you say we are. We’re here to protect the heroes you’re targeting, and the civilians who’d be swayed by your madness.”

Tokage murmured, “Mo—M.”

They really needed to pick out hero names soon. For now, Monoma used their new alias system and hollered, “T1, get K1 and S out of here! K2, cover her!”

Kamakiri muttered, “Why am I K2?”

Tokage split her body below her neck into too many smaller pieces to count. As fingers and arms and feet alike carried away Kaibara and flew toward Shinso, she yelled, “T2 and T3, I’ll be an extra pair of eyes and ears for you! The rest of you, don’t get close until he’s disarmed!”

Tsuburaba blew a huge gust of wind at Stain, blowing the Hero Killer’s iconic dirty-white-and-blood-red scarves and the ends of the marketable sash around his eyes. Then the air solidified, slamming into Stain’s face before shattering against his sword. Tokage hollered directions as the distance between them and the villain grew. Stain grimaced when solid air bruised his hand, and then he used his sword to deflect Pony’s horns. The Hero Killer lunged at Tokage’s head, but Kamakiri intercepted him. “Don’t mess with our head!”

Tokage spluttered, “Our head?!”

“You’re our leader!” Kamakiri lashed out with his elbow blades, two against Stain’s one sword. For a split second, they looked evenly matched. Then Pony’s horns struck Stain’s shirt above his shoulders, knocking him back. He kept a firm grip on his sword though, and when Kamakiri lashed out with all his might, it was his own elbow blades that snapped right off.

The heteromorph howled in agony; Monoma wondered if it was like ripping out nails. Stain wrenched the horns out of his clothes, and Pony cried out in frustration.

When the Hero Killer licked his lips, impulsiveness overtook Monoma, and he lunged at his opponent, caution be damned. If he could just touch the filthy man—

“Get back!” Tokage warned, and Pony screeched in horror.

Monoma Copied Stain’s Quirk right before Tsuburaba blew the Hero Killer back. He shuddered when Stain brought the blood-soaked sword to his mouth—was that his blood? Monoma’s head suddenly felt light, and he brought a hand to his stomach. It was wet. And his hand was drenched in red.

Monoma’s heartbeat quickened, and he fell, pressing the back of his hand to his head. “Oh, what happened to me?”

“Phantom Thief!” a less familiar voice shouted.

Shinso?

It took all of Monoma’s strength to croak out to Tokage, “What’s he doing here?”

“I snuck back,” Shinso said, matter-of-fact; his phantom mask concealed his expression, but Monoma suspected he’d have an excellent poker face. He knelt next to Monoma, his long chains draped on the cracked pavement. “The police should be coming in about five minutes, Pro Heroes a bit after. For now, my Quirk can help.”

Although Shinso was holding Monoma's hands, the hero student couldn’t Copy his Brainwash Quirk. What had Stain done to him and Kaibara? It couldn’t be permanent, right? They were too good to succumb here, in a dingy alley, their hero careers ended before they could even begin.

Stain cackled. “Even you admit it! In a place like this, heroes will arrive long after the police.”

The Hero Killer’s cracked mouth froze in a sneer with the word police. His off-white sash concealed his eyes, despite the slits, but Monoma knew they’d be glazed over like Izuku Midoriya’s had been in the tournament—a stronger but more delicate effect than Stain’s Quirk.

Awase asked the question Monoma was thinking: “Why are the heroes coming later?”

“This is a ghetto,” Shinso pointed out. “That’s just how it works.”

Tokage muttered, pulling out her phone, “That’s so not right.”

Monoma didn’t understand. This area still had civilians who needed heroes like anyone else.

Shinso squeezed his shoulder, stood up, and marched toward Stain, unafraid of the Hero Killer’s bloodied sword as he bound him in decorative chains. “I want you to answer a few questions, Hero Killer.” Monoma shivered at Shinso’s calm, deadly tone. “First, identify and explain your Quirk.”

Stain spoke in a rasp, more so from his mind resisting than his body struggling. “Bloodcurdle. When my tongue… makes contact… with someone’s blood… I can activate my Quirk… and paralyze them.” Sweat dripped from his jaw. “It only lasts a few minutes.”

“Deactivate it now,” Shinso commanded.

Monoma gasped. He stood with a flourish of his cape, ignoring his dizziness. “Phantom Thief has returned!” He swaggered toward Stain, trying not to tense when he arrived within the sword’s reach. Reaching to the side, he snatched Awase’s sunglasses, Copying Weld in the process; Awase scowled but didn’t protest. Monoma popped off the lenses and welded them onto Stain’s eyes, the sash scratching against his fingers.

Monoma laughed and took off his mask to run a hand through his hair, not caring he was getting blood in it. “You may have cut me, but I have your Quirk—Bloodcurdle!” He smirked, trying not to show how uneasy he was. “Now, how do I get you to bleed?”

Tsuburaba shifted his weight. “You wouldn’t—”

Shinso commanded, “Stain the Hero Killer, cut yourself down with your sword.”

Stain moved slowly, slowly, slowly turning the sword on himself.

Pony exclaimed in glee, “I get to watch a real-life seppuku!”

Oh no no no. Monoma grabbed Shinso’s arm. He had lost hold of Tokage’s Quirk, and his mouth tingled as he Copied Brainwash. “Stop.”

Stain didn’t stop. Of course—he hadn’t replied to Monoma.

Shinso repeated the order, and this time Stain froze, the tip of his sword touching his torso. His goosebumps looked like warts.

Monoma didn’t let go of Shinso. “We’re aiming to be heroes. That means no one dies—not us, not any innocent bystanders, not even villains.” Now Monoma released Shinso and addressed Stain. “You were wrong. Heroes arrived before the police, because we are here. And we are so much better than whatever you can think of.”

Kaibara returned just then, and he launched a powerful double kick against Stain, knocking aside the Hero Killer’s sword—and freeing him from Shinso’s Brainwash.

Stain broke free from the chains and snarled at the eight aspiring heroes, blind but out for blood, as sirens drew near.

 

Chapter 9: Return to U.A.

Summary:

The conclusion to the battle against the Hero Killer: Stain! There is hope for hero society yet. Internships fly by in a breeze, and Kendo gives Monoma a heads-up of what to expect in the final exam...

Notes:

"Isha" means "doctor." Yes, there's a side character named Dr. Doctor.

Monoma surveyed the situation: he, Tokage, Awase, Kaibara, Tsuburaba, Kamakiri, Pony, and Shinso were gathered in the ghetto of Hosu City, wearing disguises, though Monoma had taken off his phantom mask after welding sunglass lenses onto Stain’s eyes. As for the Hero Killer, he swayed, attempting an intimidating stance despite his makeshift blindness and fallen sword. He growled when police sirens sounded closer.

Kamakiri panicked. “We need to get out of here.”

“But we’re not the villains,” Pony argued.

“We can’t be here when the police show up.”

“We also can’t run away,” Monoma pointed out, exhausted. His blood, his and Awase’s fingerprints on the lenses, every piece of exoskeleton that had splintered off with Kamakiri’s elbow blades—there was too much damning evidence if the U.A. students fled.

“Vigilantes are outlawed,” Tokage added. “We need to be accountable.”

The other boys nodded, but Kamakiri shook his head, backing away. “You don’t understand—the police—I—”

Stain roared, having found his sword during the distraction. Kaibara took a step forward, ready for another round against the villain, but then colourful lights dazzled around them, stunningly vivid against the oil-soaked surroundings. And then the U.A. students were thrown into the air.

~***~

Monoma, his classmates, and Shinso floated atop rings of radiant, dazzling light that flew through the night. Most residents of Hosu City didn’t bother to look up, though a few cried out in surprise when they saw eight teenagers, some in odd costumes, flying far above on rings of light.

Tokage cheered. “I knew it!”

“What happened?” Shinso demanded.

“I called Majestic after you called the police, and he still arrived first. I don’t have a particular connection to him; I just thought his Quirk, Magic, would aid our escape.” She grinned. “Doesn’t this refute what Stain said about Pro Heroes not caring?”

Monoma smiled back at her, pressing his extra cape against his wound. “No one’s betting against you, Tokage.”

“The police…” Kamakiri mumbled. “Why are we heading to the police station, of all places?”

“Kamakiri,” Tokage chided, “we’d need to file a witness report anyway. Why are you so reluctant?”

Awase added, half-jokingly, “Are you a wanted criminal or something?”

Kamakiri stared back at him. “Stop pretending to be blind. I’m a heteromorph.”

That didn’t seem to be an issue when, in the police headquarters, the Chief of Police introduced himself with a woof. Kenji Tsuragamae had a beagle’s head, a good doggo with dark brown and cream-coloured fur and a speckled muzzle.

Monoma was feeling delirious by now, and he slumped against the wall. “See, Kamakiri, you had nothing to worry about! Woof.”

Kamakiri’s pincers flared, and Mr. Tsuragamae repeated, “Woof?”

Monoma laughed. “Good dog!”

Kaibara snorted, Pony giggled, and Shinso’s mouth twitched.

“Monoma,” Kamakiri said in a strained voice, “please shut up.”

Monoma obliged when his eyes rolled back and he fainted, the others exclaiming in shock.

~***~

Monoma awoke in a hospital room, the others swarming his cot, having changed back to their school uniforms. Mr. Kan, Class 1-B’s homeroom teacher, was there too—and so was the Chief of Police, Mr. Tsuragamae, which made Monoma wince. What had he said to the dog-headed police chief before losing consciousness?

Pony yelled, “He’s awake! Get the doctor!”

Tokage split the lower half of her face while the rest of her body remained next to Monoma, cutting some fruit alongside Shinso. Neither of them was as adept at it as Monoma’s personal assistant Alfred, but Shinso was even worse; the apple slices looked like angry baby pineapples. Monoma smiled up at the purple-haired boy and accepted the ugly-cut fruit. It was no less delicious.

A white-haired doctor arrived. “Good morning, Monoma. My name is Dr. Isha, and I am in charge of your care. You lost a lot of blood, but fortunately avoided a concussion when you fainted.”

Monoma held up his hand. “Shouldn’t at least one of my parents be here before you go on?”

Dr. Isha looked sympathetic. “We reached out to them immediately, and they sent a representative. Alfred Butler has received a full medical report and will relay it to them at their earliest convenience.”

Oh. On one hand, Monoma was glad his parents hadn’t seen him like this. But it’d be nice for someone besides Alfred to care about his well-being; Alfred was paid to care.

Dr. Isha continued, “Do you have any other pressing questions?”

Monoma’s body stung. “Will I have a scar?”

“A clean cut with stitches across your torso,” Dr. Isha confirmed. “It won’t impair your mobility or hero training. I will be back with another copy of your full report.”

Monoma responded with a distressed groan. Pony patted his shoulder. “Chin up, pal. You’re still pretty.”

Shinso commented, “What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’re a swimsuit model or something.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?”

Mr. Kan cleared his throat. “Now that Monoma is awake, the rest of you may leave so Mr. Tsuragamae can speak with him. Shinso, Mr. Aizawa will be in the lobby soon.”

Monoma blinked. “What does Class 1-A’s homeroom teacher want with Shinso?”

“That’s between them.”

Monoma’s classmates wished him well, and then Monoma was left alone with Mr. Kan and Mr. Tsuragamae, who stared at him unnervingly.

Monoma fidgeted. “Uh, sorry about earlier.”

“Woof. Watch your words next time, young man.”

Monoma wouldn’t, and he suspected everyone in the room knew it, including everyone who had just left.

“What happened with the Hero Killer is a grave incident, young man. You were fortunate no one got seriously hurt.”

“I have a scar,” Monoma retorted, “and I didn’t even defeat the villain myself!”

“Scars fade, Monoma,” Mr. Kan assured him. “Your classmates and Shinso told me what happened; you made the right choice not injuring Stain.”

Monoma sighed. He knew Mr. Kan was right, but he hated that he’d gotten himself hurt for nothing. “As long as Stain got caught, it’s fine. I won’t take credit until I become a fully licensed hero.”

Mr. Kan and Mr. Tsuragamae exchanged a look. “Uh, actually, woof, he got away.”

“WHAT?!?!” Monoma’s outburst alarmed Dr. Isha and a few nurses. He draped the back of his hand against his forehead and almost fainted again.

~***~

After the doctor’s report, a non-disclosure warning from the police chief, and a stern lecture from Mr. Kan, Monoma went home for the weekend. He hoped his parents would express concern after Alfred’s report, but his mother had been too busy with merch design, and his father had simply waved his hand dismissively, warned him to be careful, and after a few minutes, asked if Monoma was sure he wanted to be a Pro Hero.

Alfred brought up a tray of sliced fruit and oolong tea, claiming it was from Monoma’s mother. Monoma didn’t really believe him, but he pretended that everything was fine, his family was fine, he was fine. He was better than fine.

Alfred hesitated. “This may be out of line,” he said carefully, “but why did you and your friends do something so reckless?”

Monoma sipped the tea, then added two sugar cubes, ignoring Alfred’s insistence that sugar had already been added. “Isn’t it obvious?” Monoma replied with a grin. “We’re heroes.”

~***~

Before class started, Awase, Kaibara, and Kamakiri kept exchanging looks and hushed whispers; two rows back, Pony, Tsuburaba, and Tokage did the same, with Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu clueless between them. They glanced back at Monoma, who merely smirked. In the second row, Nirengeki Shoda stared at them with wide eyes, sensing their secret. Kendo caught Monoma’s eye and scowled, silently demanding to know what mischief Monoma and his friends had gotten into.

Monoma braced himself to tell her.

Weeks passed, and he hadn’t told her, or anyone else in his class. After the initial excitement wore off, all that remained from the incident was an occasional half-joking comment about the Hero Killer. Things moved on: Class 1-B picked out hero names—Monoma decided to keep Phantom Thief—and went on their internships. Monoma spent most of the internship on photocopy duty, but at least he got to read on interesting intel, including a report of Stain’s capture. He hoped he and his friends had, somehow, indirectly made it happen.

In the cafeteria, he’d try to say hi to Shinso sometimes, but the general studies student never reacted, and his classmates told Monoma to stop bugging him. Gradually, Shinso didn’t go to the cafeteria as often, or he’d only show up near the end of lunch. Monoma hoped he wasn’t scaring him off.

“Not everything is about you, friendo,” Kendo told him, rolling her eyes. “He’s probably busy; we all have finals coming up, after all.”

“Finals will be a breeze.”

“Yuyu Haya, a third year in the hero program, said it’ll be robo-villains like the entrance exam.”

Monoma tensed, remembering how he had barely scraped by in the entrance exam.

Kendo smiled. “A breeze, right?”

~***~

END OF THE STAIN OF HERO SOCIETY ARC

NEXT ARC: The Start of Summer

Chapter 10: Shihai Kuroiro: Woe

Summary:

The final exams begin! Contrary to Kendo's intel, the students of Class 1-B must work in pairs to defeat U.A.'s distinguished faculty...

Notes:

Initially, I planned to go from the U.A. Beginnings arc straight to the final exams, which would span at least five or six chapters to cover each battle in detail. That got boring fast—we all already know how the battles end. I kept Kamakiri and Kaibara vs Snipe cuz I liked the choreography, as well as Kuroiro and Komori vs Cementoss cuz Kuroiro's story was fun. Since I wrote part of the final exams arc before shortening it and adding the Stain arc for more Shinso spotlight, I already had Kuroiro's story drafted, so I decided to keep it as is :)

It’ll be a breeze, they said.

It was not.

Just a bunch more robo-villains to destroy!

Nope.

Monoma laughed nervously as All Might stood in front of him, the steel weights doing little to make him less intimidating. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being in the presence of the Number One Hero?”

All Might’s laugh boomed across the waiting area of the Beta Battlezone. “Have no fear, young man, for I am here!” He didn’t offer Monoma a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Your teacher thought hard about who to pair up with whom and against which faculty member. You received one of the highest grades on the written component, just like in the entrance exam, and I expect similar results on the practical component!”

Similar to the written component or to the practical part of the entrance exam? thought Monoma bitterly. He’d almost failed that, even if his classmates pretended to have forgotten. All Might still didn’t offer Monoma his hand.

Finally, with a not-so-innocent grin, Monoma offered All Might his own hand. “I appreciate it, All Might. I’ll definitely win against you!”

All Might laughed again, not taking Monoma’s hand. “I know how your Quirk works, young man. To make it a fair exam that continues to reflect real-world circumstances, I suggested to the rest of the faculty that you wouldn’t be allowed to Copy anyone’s Quirk before the match begins. After all,” he continued, his teeth blindingly white when he beamed, “it’s not like you’ll always have a classroom of aspiring heroes with powerful Quirks at your disposal when you graduate and work as a pro. Principal Nezu and the others agreed. If you demonstrate someone else’s Quirk besides that of your assigned partner during the exam, you will automatically fail!”

Monoma froze. One eyebrow twitched. He supposed it was fair—Reiko Yanagi and Yui Kodai couldn’t bring extra props either—but they’d have the arena surroundings. The only available Quirks for Monoma to Copy would be his partner’s and All Might’s—and if he was close enough to Copy All Might’s Quirk, the exam would already be over: the manacles would be on All Might’s wrists, or All Might would knock him out with a well-placed insert-foreign-state-here smash.

Monoma leaned against the wall in the waiting room as his classmates crowded around the monitor. Why bother? They could see just as well from the back.

In the arena, Nirengeki Shoda and Pony Tsunotori discussed last-minute plans—or, more accurately, Shoda attempted to communicate last-minute plans while Pony poked her horns and whistled. Despite how nervous or nonchalant they acted, Monoma had no doubt they’d pass with flying colors, even as their opponent Principal Nezu cackled with the sadistic glee of a creature that despised humankind.

“How did someone who hates people end up as the principal of one of the best hero schools in the country?” Yui Kodai mused, joining Monoma at the back as he pulled out his pocket watch, opened it with a flourish, and then snapped it shut and put it away. 

Monoma repeated the gesture, giving his wrist a workout, and replied, “The answer is simple, lovely Kodai.”

Kodai frowned. “Do tell.”

Monoma snapped his pocket watch shut a third time. “When all’s said and done,” he explained, “Nezu gets to send us to the frontlines knowing, statistically, at least 70% of us will be forced into early retirement or meet an untimely demise.”

Kodai’s partner Reiko Yanagi peeked from over the black-haired girl’s shoulder. “Spooky.”

Without a word, Kodai strode to the door to the battlefield.

Yanagi shuffled closer to Monoma and asked, “Which ending do you think you’ll have, Monoma?”

He gave her a half smile and gestured toward Kodai, who tapped her foot, waiting for Yanagi to join her. 

“For the record,” Kodai said with a toss of her hair, “we think these extra restrictions are so unfair. I mean, Emily and I can make do with whatever Rocketti and Mines leave for us, but you’re stuck with your partner…”

A horn blared, announcing Pony and Shoda’s result. Principal Nezu chuckled, his paws bound in manacles. Pony waved at the camera while Shoda looked dazed, as though wondering how he and Pony had emerged victorious.

The rest of Class 1-B also performed excellently. Kodai and Yanagi had no problem improvising with the construction debris in the arena, which spiraled around Thirteen and eventually clogged up her Black Hole. Monoma didn’t think that could actually happen to black holes, but he supposed a black hole created by a human would have human limitations, as Quirks did.

Setsuna Tokage combatted Present Mic’s shockwaves by riding Kosei Tsuburaba’s solidified air. Yosetsu Awase Welded Hiryu Rin’s scales on Ectoplasm’s clones until the teacher cried out in surrender, perplexed by scales sticking out of his orifices. And Ibara Shiozaki used her Vines as a shield against Midnight’s sleep-inducing Quirk while Manga Fukidashi attacked from a distance; a giant speech bubble sent Midnight flying with a squeal of pleasure.

Monoma got distracted when Sen Kaibara knocked his knuckles against his head—fortunately, without activating Gyrate. Monoma rubbed his head ruefully. “What?”

Kaibara snapped his fingers, their armor making the sound even sharper. “Stay alert, Monoma. Just ‘cause you’re going last doesn’t mean you can fall asleep, especially when Kamakiri and I are up now.”

Togaru Kamakiri grunted through his pincers. Monoma smiled at them. Except for himself, these two were the last in the group that battled Stain to take the exam now.

On the battlefield, Snipe drew his guns. In a drawl resembling Pony’s, he called out, “They may give you thirty minutes, but in my book, a true victory occurs in thirty seconds. Can you boys win?”

Neither of them dignified Snipe’s taunt with a reply. Kamakiri snapped his arms downward, making his elbow blades pop out, while Kaibara held his arms in a fighting stance. His support gear activated, the drill armor over his fingers spinning louder than construction equipment.

Snipe’s dreadlocks shifted as he must have spoken more, but Kaibara’s support gear drowned everything else out.

In two seconds, Snipe twirled his pistols and removed the safety in the same motion.

In three seconds, Kaibara and Kamakiri charged at Snipe.

Bullets whizzed by in all directions like in an old-school Western flick; Monoma swore he saw a tumbleweed bounce by. Kamakiri deflected the bullets with his elbow swords, then ducked as Kaibara leapt over him. The spinning armor over Kaibara’s fingers grazed along one of his blades — Monoma winced at the noise, like nails over a chalkboard but amplified — and then Kaibara landed on one spinning foot, then another. He kicked away one of Snipe’s pistols, sending a bullet careening into a cactus and trapping the gun inside a tumbleweed.

Ten seconds.

Snipe pointed his second gun at him, and Kaibara blocked with his gyrating arms, sending bullets flying in four different directions like the deadliest X.

When it sounded like Snipe ran out of bullets, Kamakiri lunged at him. Sword struck gun, gun smacked sword, and the strangest melee ensued as Snipe struggled to reload while fending off Kamakiri. His cowboy hat blew away, and he looked up just in time to see Kaibara pounce on him.

Monoma gave his friends a high five when they returned. He raised his pocket watch and declared, “I’ll beat that time.”

Back on the battlefield, the next pair seemed to have more difficulty.

~***~

SHIHAI KUROIRO

The world was darkness and horror, and I was the woeful shadow inhabiting it.

My name is Shihai Kuroiro, and I am the Scheming Hero: Vantablack. Through an unfortunate series of mishap after mishap — hiding under a falling robot in the entrance exam to get into U.A., sneaking after some of the other boys and seeing a mysterious heteromorph who would later break into the school, evacuating the school in response to a villain alarm, facing the media repercussions of Class 1-A getting attacked by villains at U.S.J., losing woefully in the sports fest, having my internship interrupted by a false alarm about the Hero Killer: Stain — I now found myself in the most pitiful situation in my 15+ years of awful living.

I might actually fail the practical portion of the final exam of my first term at U.A.

It wouldn’t have been the first exam I’d have failed—oh, shadows, far from it. Like calls to like, and darkness calls to darkness, such that every unlucky thing that could happen to a student during exams season was bestowed by darker powers to befall me. In my first year at middle school, I studied for the wrong subjects, left my pencil case at home, and brought my older brother’s driver’s license instead of my student ID. In my second year, I threw up from stress the morning of the first exam, brought colored pencils instead of lead, and was accused of cheating because a draft from the window blew my neighbor’s paper onto my desk. And last year, my shoe got stuck on gum and it distracted me the whole time, I was accused of cheating again because I couldn’t sleep well — can you blame me? — and my eye kept twitching, and I slept through half of one of my exams. Also, my train to the entrance exam for U.A. was delayed, I almost got lost trying to find the campus, and I got the zero-point robots mixed up with the real robot villains for the first 20 minutes.

It's a miracle I made it into U.A. at all.

Now, there I was, dressed all in black, the only non-black parts of me my silver wristbands for control and navigation in the shadows, my white sneakers reinforced with flexible steel, and my messy white hair, which kept giving me away. 

A desperate voice cried out, “Kuroiro, to me!”

Shemage was easy to find, as a bright mushroom ought to be among dark foliage. Kinoko Komori’s red mushroom-style hat and dress with white polka dots stood out from the gray concrete and blurry shadows, even as the concrete lifted like an ocean wave and threatened to wash me away.

I ran toward her, trying to run faster than Cementoss could bend the concrete. If it weren’t for the heavy weights on his wrists, I’d stand no chance at all. I sprinted on the moving cement, ducked into a roll under a falling pillar, slipped into a shadow to dodge another concrete structure, and then got my face flattened against a solid slab of hardening cement.

Chapter 11: The First Failure

Summary:

The final exams continue! Afterward, Class 1-B goes to the mall to hang out at the start of their summer break. And on that day, villains lurked, preparing their attack...

Notes:

The end of this chapter corresponds to when Tomura Shigaraki approaches Deku at the mall. I liked that scene cuz it helped set up Tomura's growth; one of my fave parts about the series is the villains developing alongside the heroes. This fic aims to shed some light on side character development, particularly Monoma :)

Monoma recoiled as if he’d been the one who’d face-planted cement. Several of his classmates groaned in sympathy.

Kuroiro took the hit like a champ. He staggered back but remained standing, smearing blood across his face with his gloved hand.

“Kuroiro!” Komori exclaimed, bouncing on overgrown mushrooms to reach her teammate. As she approached, more and more mushrooms burst into existence, their fumes obscuring Cementoss’s view. The cement block-shaped instructor sneezed, and spores sprouted in the cement’s cracks.

Kuroiro waved Komori away, insisting he was fine. He swayed and bent over as if to throw up, and Monoma wondered if the Scheming Hero: Vantablack had a concussion. Then he straightened up, nodded at Komori, and melted into the cement.

“Go!” Komori formed a path through the cement with her mushrooms, cracks branching across the ground. Kuroiro used the overlapping shadows of the mushrooms to travel straight to Cementoss, who keeled over from his hacking cough.

In the waiting room, Kendo tapped her knuckles against Monoma’s shoulder. “You got this, friendo.”

Monoma forced a smile, hating how sweaty he was getting just watching his classmates battle. “You got this more, Kendo.”

The horn blared, announcing Kuroiro and Komori’s victory. Kendo then pulled Kojiro Bondo after her; the glue-tube boy fidgeted, glue leaking out of his pores. His voice trembled as he dared to ask, “What if we fail?”

Monoma laughed before Kendo could reply. “Don’t you know who your partner is, Bondo? Do you think Itsuka Kendo has ever failed in her life?”

Kendo glared at him.

“She won’t let you fail,” Monoma assured.

On the battlefield, Power Loader’s machinery roared, but the support course instructor was no match against Kendo and Bondo’s teamwork: Kendo’s turquoise qipao flared around her legs as she leaped over Bondo’s head, dodging the spray of glue as she flew and activated Big Fist at the last second to wallop Power Loader’s bulldozer.

Pony leaned on the wall next to Monoma, drinking from a juice box to replenish her sugar content. No wonder she’s so energetic, Monoma thought. “Ya know,” Pony commented, “your partner won’t let ya fail either. Ya got this, Phantom Thief!”

Monoma smirked. “Obviously.”

But first, Jurota Shishida and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu were up against their homeroom teacher. As the boys marched into the arena, Shishida’s stomping made the ground tremble, while Tetsutetsu sounded like a Medieval European knight trying to get his bearings.

“We got this in the bag, eh, Real Steel?”

Tetsutetsu cracked his neck. “You bet! I always wanted to beat up Mr. Kan.”

Kendo almost choked; Pony cracked up. Shishida nodded so hard his glasses became crooked. He adjusted them with his knuckles, but that only made them more crooked. “Yeah, he’s a mean, nasty teacher!”

“Keeps telling us to do better!”

“Threatened to give us homework over the break!”

“Makes his tests insanely hard!”

“So hard, it’s not fair at all!”

Kendo sighed, covering her face with one hand. Monoma couldn’t help but agree with the boys, though. This was an unfair exam.

Tetsutetsu slammed his fists together, the decisive echo amplified by the construction arena. “We’ll show him!”

Shishida crouched with a sniff. “Then we’ll all be off to training camp!”

Vlad King stood in the middle of the arena, his weight-clad hands on his hips. From his stormy expression, he must have heard every word—or, just as likely, that was simply his natural expression.

The horn blared. Tetsutetsu bellowed a battle cry, and Shishida roared. The violent shaking seemed to activate some of the construction equipment. And Vlad King yelled encouragement for his students, or maybe taunts—at this point no one could hear anything coherent.

Juzo Honenuki took off his helmet to reveal a disturbingly toothy grin. “So what’s the plan, Monoma?”

Monoma stared blankly back at him. “The plan,” he repeated.

“Yes. I heard All Might forbid you from Copying anyone’s Quirk outside the arena.”

“I have a plan.”

“Great!” Honenuki brushed long fingers through his long sandy-blond hair. “You’re more of a strategist than I am—I tend to go with the flow, the way my surroundings do when I activate my Quirk.”

“My plan,” Monoma said, “is to Copy your Quirk.”

Honenuki nodded. “Yes, I assumed that much. What’s next?”

Monoma laughed nervously. “My plan,” he repeated, “is to then activate Softening!”

Nearby, Kaibara snorted; Tsuburaba’s eyes widened. Pony spluttered into full-blown, maniacal laughter, almost ramming her horns into Honenuki. When Monoma turned to Kendo for support, she gave him a look of concern and exasperation.

Honenuki put on his helmet. “You make it sound like we’re screwed.”

Monoma’s breath hitched, his blood boiling. The last time he had felt this way was in middle school, when his teacher had criticized his choice of school. This time, though, any criticism would be deserved.

The horn blared, announcing yet another pair’s victory, and Honenuki patted Monoma’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, my friend—just follow my lead!”

Five minutes later, Monoma was sinking in his own trap of softened, unstable ground. A ramshackle building tilted toward him, and he stretched out his hand, ready to soften the structure to save himself.

A proud bellow declared, “You have plenty to fear—for I am here!” So this was All Might acting like a villain.

“I’m coming!” Honenuki hollered on the other side of the arena. Monoma was pinned in the middle, and it’d be a race to see who reached him first. Honenuki was fast, but their opponent was All Might.

Monoma wrenched an arm free, but before he could resume his flailing in another vain attempt to free himself, the ground hardened. He gasped, his chest abruptly compressed. Pain cracked across his torso as he felt his ribs fracture. Something must have also punctured his lung, because when he inhaled, he heard a high-pitched wheezing and faint rattling. He coughed out blood and vaguely heard Honenuki yell out a warning.

All Might got to him first.

Monoma grabbed his opponent’s arm but struggled to Copy his Quirk—it was as if there was nothing. But that was impossible. Japan’s top hero couldn’t be Quirkless!

All he could hear was his own struggle to breathe. Right at the impact of All Might’s insert-foreign-state-here smash, Honenuki activated his Quirk to re-soften the ground and scoop Monoma up.

The surroundings continued to soften, and darken…

~***~

The cherry-flavored lollipops in the infirmary didn’t make him feel better. An apology from Honenuki, as if what had happened was his fault, didn’t make him feel better. All Might checking on him and bringing him a katsudon bento didn’t make him feel better. None of that changed the fact that Monoma had failed.

~***~

With exams over, Class 1-B celebrated the start of their summer break at the local mall, dressed down in their street clothes. Monoma still accessorized, with a bejeweled watch on one wrist and string-and-leather bracelets on the other. He couldn’t help but smile when Pony Tsunotori squealed at the intricate miniature train display near the entrance. Hiryu Rin sniffed, proclaiming that China’s bullet trains were far more impressive.

“Rin, hon,” Pony chided, “it’s a baby train.”

Setsuna Tokage and Togaru Kamakiri each carried two bubble teas. Monoma could guess what had led to the extra drinks; the two green-themed teenagers kept exchanging coy smiles, and Kamakiri blushed blue. They offered the extra bubble tea to the exchange students.

“Boba!” Pony exclaimed. She stabbed the straw through the top in a swift motion, and her cheeks puffed as she slurped up the sweetened milk tea. “I once fit 32 pearls in my mouth—one stuck to each tooth.”

Rin shuddered. “No wonder Americans have cavities and diabetes and heart problems.”

The three stooges — Yosetsu Awase, Sen Kaibara, and Kosei Tsuburaba — strolled toward them with their own bubble tea, completing the squad. Monoma nudged his petite blonde friend. “You’ll have to stay in Japan to avoid America’s problems.”

Pony gave him a friendly wink. “And I’ll get caught up in Japan’s problems—why else would I study here?”

They’d all get caught up in the storm of villains rising. For now, Pony got caught in the storm of the Class 1-B girls on a mission. Itsuka Kendo raised a hand to greet Monoma. “Hi, friendo; bye, friendo.”

Yui Kodai and Reiko Yanagi dragged Pony and Tokage after them. Shihai Kuroiro was following Kinoko Komori, not so much an honorary girl as someone to carry all the bags because it’d make Komori happy. Only Ibara Shiozaki didn’t join them. She clasped her hands in front of her like in prayer. “I shall forsake material possessions and find a Christian shop in this otherwise worldly shopping centre.”

“A Christian shop,” Rin remarked, “where you’ll then admire material possessions.”

Manga Fukidashi snorted. “Come on, buddy, we gotta hightail it to a manga shop before her divine wrath smites you.”

“I prefer manhua.”

“Close enough! I’ll have you fully converted by the end of summer.”

The others were also wandering away until only Monoma and Honenuki were left at the entrance. Honenuki crouched so he was at eye level with the train display. “I could stare at this for hours.”

“You’d look suspicious if it breaks.”

“It won’t. It’s unnatural for things to just fall apart.”

“Entropy suggests otherwise.”

Honenuki glanced up at him; with his teeth outside his mouth, his appearance unnerved Monoma, though he’d never admit it. “Entropy,” Honenuki said, his voice soft, “is unnatural itself. It’s the most insidious villain, infesting all other forces that would act like villains. Order is the natural state of things, and disorder motivates villainy—I have to believe that, as the son of the Minister of State for Disaster Management and as an aspiring Pro Hero. Otherwise, what exactly are we fighting?”

Monoma swallowed. He looked away, not wanting Honenuki — a recommended student, someone practically born to be a hero — to see his resentment. Humans, he thought, overhearing yelling nearby. An angry, wronged customer, or an angry, wronged shopkeeper. Passersby muttering about the unwanted noise. A teenage girl giggling at the scene, her lipstick smeared and her dyed-blonde hair messy. Though she looked to be one or two years older than Monoma and his classmates, she wore a middle-school uniform that was too small for her. Her deviant, devious appearance made her seem like she’d be a news story.

Humans. Because in the end, every villain was a human.

A heteromorph with a shadowy body strode toward the girl and tapped her shoulder with a dark, wispy tendril. He acted like a caretaker, but Monoma recognized the man who had trespassed on U.A. property at the start of the school year.

Human? Surely this one wasn’t.

Monoma’s phone beeped, as did most others nearby, creating a cacophony that rattled the miniature train display. An official public safety notification appeared on the screen—a villain alert.

Chapter 12: Tour of Class 1-B

Summary:

Skipping over the summer training camp since it wouldn't really differ much from what was already shown in the anime and manga, we now get to explore Class 1-B's dorms! To connect the students, Mei Hatsume develops a secure comms system that can't be audited by a third party. However, due to Monoma's scheming, Class 1-A gets excluded from the system.

Notes:

Monoma's mischief bordering on bullying enables the inclusion of Chitter (not Twitter) as a plot device without deviating too much from canon :)

Neito Monoma felt like a giant who had stepped into a farm of fantasy ponies. Such was the decorated dorm room of his best friend Pony Tsunotori, who was picking up figurines and introducing them by name.

Monoma sat on her chair, one leg crossed over the other, his foot bouncing. Each pony’s name had two unrelated English words; how did she remember all of them? The power of otaku was truly frightening.

Pony sat cross-legged on her bed and bumped two ponies together. Monoma couldn’t fathom being so careless with collectibles.

Someone knocked on the door. Pony exclaimed, “Kissing!” 

That didn’t stop Itsuka Kendo from swinging the door open. Monoma raised an eyebrow. “She just said she was—Pony, darling, what did you say?”

Pony waved her pony figurines. “Kissing.”

Kendo frowned. “There’s no one here to kiss.”

Monoma gestured to himself. “There’s a beautiful face right here.”

“Yep, no one at all.” Kendo stuck her tongue out at him. “Don’t hole yourselves in here, friendos. We’re doing a dorm tour, and as class rep, I insist we do it as a class!”

“Mr. Kan already gave us a tour of the dorms,” Pony pointed out.

“But now we’re moved in and can do a proper tour,” Kendo insisted, dragging both blonds out.

Monoma twisted out of Kendo’s grip, a feat only achievable because of Pony’s squealing and fidgeting distracting the taller girl. “Give me a minute to get my affairs sorted.”

Kendo rolled her eyes. “No one says that.”

Pony waved at him. “Okay, Monomin, go hide your yaoi.”

Monoma rapped his knuckles against her forehead. “I own no such thing.”

After an idiot in Class 1-A had gotten himself kidnapped by the League of Villains, U.A. installed a dormitory system for all students, regardless of program. Monoma thought it was all unnecessary; the upper years and non-hero students had nothing to do with the incident, and it was obvious the traitor was from Class 1-A. He had no concrete evidence—just intuition and a firm belief in the integrity of his own classmates.

Mei Hatsume from the support course developed an encrypted communication system across the dorms, since all messages sent through the civilian network would be audited. Through Hatsume’s Chitter network, Monoma could tell the other first years wanted to organize a party that excluded the hero students. He could understand excluding Class 1-A — he’d distracted Hatsume with an extra support item request before she could add the inferior hero class to the system, and by the time she returned to her work station, another one of her “babies” demanded attention — but Class 1-B was basically party central! Monoma’s classmates were the life of every party, not that they had any. Such was the busy life of a hero student.

Monoma hit send — Chitter actually gave a little birdsong — and then joined his classmates in a party of their own making, doing up half of the buttons of his cardigan on the way. Kendo smiled with relief, and he laughed; did she think he’d skip hanging out with his classmates?

Kendo cupped her hands together, resembling Present Mic when she rallied up Class 1-B. “Now that everyone’s here, we can start the real Class 1-B dorm tour!”

As the class rep, she went first. Monoma squinted, taken aback by the dazzling lights.

The boys chorused, “Whoa.”

Kendo stood with her hands on her hips, proud to show off her alt-lifestyle dorm: shiny dark wallpaper, stage lights, spikes on the bed frame, and, the crème of the crop, an actual motorcycle.

Monoma propped himself up on the motorcycle like a damsel riding a horse. “How’d you get this through security?”

“A girl has her ways.”

Monoma doubted Kendo was the type to beat up authority, even if she had no qualms about shutting him up every time he hyped up their class. He raised an eyebrow.

Kendo smiled. “Okay, I submitted a form saying this is for my mental health. Take care of your mental health, friendos!”

Setsuna Tokage split her body so she could pull them to her room. While Kendo was an urban gal, Tokage went with a country aesthetic: tumbleweed decorations, a rack for cowgirl hats, a display of cowgirl boots and decorative firearms, a garden of cacti.

“Don’t touch that,” Tokage warned when Pony poked a friendly-looking cactus—so friendly it shot a needle that narrowly missed Pony’s eye.

Tokage cleaned up the drop of blood on the blonde girl’s eyebrow. “Warned ya.”

The next room was Yui Kodai’s, but Kodai insisted on not letting anyone else enter. For her privacy or for her classmates’ safety, Monoma couldn’t tell.

Kodai exchanged a look with Kinoko Komori, who perked up, her bangs bouncing in front of her eyes. “Oh! Come see my room—it’s way cooler than Kodai’s,” she added with a chuckle.

Several of the boys stared at Kodai’s closed door longingly, but the girls pushed them toward Komori’s room, which actually was cooler than the other rooms, at least literally. Kuroiro ducked inside, doing a poor job of hiding his eagerness.

With all the shadows from the dim lighting and the fungi, it was certainly a room Monoma imagined Kuroiro would want to spend a lot of time in. Komori bounced on the larger mushrooms with a gleeful cackle. After some hesitation, the other girls joined her, succumbing to giggles.

Manga Fukidashi sniffled. “I might be allergic.” The others backed away, as Fukidashi’s sound-effect sneezes could be injurious.

Kendo elbowed him. “Don’t you dare!”

Monoma laughed, combing fingers through his hair. His heart skipped a beat when he thought his hand brushed against spores, but he kept his voice even when he remarked, “How can you be allergic to your own classmate?”

He took a step forward, felt a mushroom squish under his slipper, and almost fainted.

Ibara Shiozaki cried out, “This will not do! We must cleanse ourselves—Class 1-B, to my shrine!”

Her long white night dress billowed behind her as she all but glided to her room, her classmates following like disciples.

Holy radiant light washed over Monoma’s eyes, and he squinted to see what divinity lay before him. Instead of a bed, Shiozaki had brought in a golden altar for her resting purposes. Vines draped around the center of the room, and a stuffed dove perched on the pillow.

Jurota Shishida pointed at the bird. “Is that food?”

Shiozaki’s green eyebrows twitched.

Tetsutetsu whacked his shoulder. “Idiot—it’s obviously a sacrifice.”

Shiozaki’s eyebrows twitched more, and she cast a prayerful pose.

Reiko Yanagi crept up behind the boys. “If you think that’s a sacrifice, come to my room. I’m in desperate need of a sacrificial human male.”

The boys shuddered. “Did you hear that?”

“It looks like we’re done touring all the girls’ rooms.”

“Time to check out the boys’ rooms!”

“Already?” Yanagi smiled. “Spooky.”

Boys, Monoma learned after a solitary childhood, sucked at decorating. Yosetsu Awase had a workshop with a place to hang his sweaty headbands. Sen Kaibara had a workshop with a non-secured place to keep his lethal support gear. Togaru Kamakiri had a workshop with a bin that failed to catch shavings from sharpening his pincers. Kosei Tsuburaba had a workshop—just a workshop, with a minimalist design.

Meanwhile, Manga Fukidashi’s room looked like a used bookstore, with manga crammed into every imaginable corner. Monoma brushed his fingers over the complete Chainsaw Man series; Pony immediately picked up the last volume of Attack on Titan and flipped to the end. Yanagi thumbed through what looked like a horror manga, entire pages full of chimeric abominations and close-ups of faces at dramatic angles. Hiryu Rin proclaimed there was only one place where one kept the best selections, and peered under Fukidashi’s bed.

Fukidashi kicked his friend out and tackled him into his room. “Aya!” Rin exclaimed. “That’s not the proper way to enter a room arranged for optimal fengshui!”

To Monoma, it looked like an ordinary bedroom, maybe arranged to look more spacious.

Meanwhile, Tetsutetsu boasted a crammed workout room completely made from metal. The boys marveled over it while Kodai scoffed and Shiozaki lamented the vanity it encouraged.

“We’re training to be Pro Heroes!” Tetsutetsu protested.

“Yeah!” Kendo agreed, supportive of her classmate. “Tetsutetsu has the spirit!” She enlarged her hand and punched the steel punching bag, immediately wincing as her knuckles bruised and became even more swollen.

“Great punch!” Tetsutetsu exclaimed. “Here’s mine!” He swung with all his might, and the 200-pound obelisk of glistening metal walloped Shishida’s face.

Monoma winced. Poor Nirengeki Shoda, who’d done nothing wrong, took responsibility and brought Shishida to the infirmary. A shame; Monoma was curious how the vice class rep decorated his dorm.

Honenuki seemed to have spared no expense in decorating his own dorm. Each corner of the room represented a different biome: bamboo and fresh grass to the east; soft, sparkling sand to the west; a glistening waterfall in the north; a six-foot-tall replica of Mt. Fuji in the form of a soda fountain in the south. The walls were painted deep blue, the ceiling adorned with constellations.

Tokage whistled. “Even I don’t know how you pulled that off in only a few hours, Honenuki.”

Hiryu Rin sniffed. “Rich people.”

Monoma laughed nervously. Honenuki grinned as he poured them a cup of soda before following the others into Shishida’s room.

“Who Let the Dogs Out” played in Monoma’s mind, courtesy of Pony’s playlist. As Class 1-B explored the kennel that functioned as a teenage boy’s room, Monoma began hearing “Dogland,” with a final bow wow before the class wandered back out.

Kojiro Bondo clasped his hands together and blocked his doorway. Kendo smiled kindly. “We don’t have to see your room if you don’t want us to.”

Kodai nodded. “We respect your privacy.”

“But not our tastes,” Tetsutetsu complained.

Kendo punched his arm. “Your décor put our classmate in the infirmary, friendo.”

Bondo stood taller. “I want to show you,” he squeaked out, his timid voice in contrast to his massive size. “I was working on something earlier in the day, and I’m excited to—”

When he opened his door, liquid glue shot out by the gallon.

It took Class 1-B two and a half hours to clean up the mess in the hallway, and by then, Monoma was too exhausted to give a tour of his room. After getting ready for bed and wishing his classmates a good night, he was ready to collapse in bed.

But at 10:26 p.m., the night was only just beginning, as a figure cast in shadow leaned against the railing of Monoma’s balcony.

 

Chapter 13: Chitter

Summary:

All the students have been moved to dorms for security purposes, and Shinso decides to pay Monoma a visit...

Notes:

I heard somewhere that romances work best when you hear from both sides, so I decided to include Shinso perspectives going forward—not as much as Monoma's point of view, but enough that we get to know what Shinso thinks of Monoma and how that evolves over time. ^^

Hitoshi Shinso was one step closer to joining the hero program upon moving into the student dorms mandated by U.A.

It wasn’t as much as the many steps closer he was after his showing at the sports festival, then teaming up with students of Class 1-B to battle Stain, and his training with Mr. Aizawa, but it was still one step closer. 

And Shinso would turn this step into a giant stride. His new dorm room became a hodgepodge of his interests, passions, obsessions. The black electric guitar he had worked countless family jobs to buy was propped up on the wall as the center of this madness. Leather articles of clothing and fishnets stretched in tatters around the instrument to give it an aesthetic flair. Surrounding those were crookedly taped calendars and timetables outlining his courses, training regimen with Mr. Aizawa, independent training for weights and cardio, extracurriculars balancing the light music club and metal fan club, and the release schedule of 20 seasonal anime he was keeping up with—on top of everything else.

Shinso lifted a 15-pound weight with one hand and read All Might’s fifth memoir with the other; the memoir, obviously, wasn’t written by All Might himself, but the author had drawn from decades’ worth of interviews and speculative content. Shinso collected and read books detailing the lives of various Pro Heroes, from the classic Crimson Riot to the rising star Hawks. He didn’t like bookshelves, so these books were stacked in haphazard piles up to five feet tall. Heroes never wrote their own books, but the authors generally managed to capture the subject’s spirit: All Might’s books were fun to read, uplifting when Shinso needed a pick-me-up; meanwhile, something about Endeavor’s books disturbed him, as though being #2 had cost the fire user a heavy sacrifice and he still didn’t get what he wanted. Unfortunately, no one had written about Mr. Aizawa, so Shinso’s desk was cluttered with looseleaf pages as the beginning of a manuscript for his mentor.

The chittering box in the wall alerted Shinso to the neglected manuscript—and the message on Chitter itself. Mei Hatsume had installed a student-wide communication system, but through a series of mishaps, Class 1-A was excluded. Shinso kept meaning to tell Deku about it, but he didn’t want to be a bother; hero students must be too busy to accept the dorm party invitations that cluttered Chitter anyway.

The newest message was from a hero student, though. Shinso recognized the sender—Neito Monoma, the boy from Class 1-B who had provoked Bakugo during the cavalry battle. Phantom Thief. Shinso shivered, remembering the eccentric teenager wearing a theater mask as he battled the Hero Killer: Stain. Yet Monoma could be kind too, like when he’d saved Shinso at the entrance exam. That one gesture became null and void, however, with the endless teasing since they’d enrolled at U.A. Shinso already knew Monoma’s Quirk was more powerful; did he have to rub it in?

The door slammed open, kicking up the loose manuscript papers. Gita Ryoki burst in, her long brown ponytail bouncing behind her. “What does Neito Monoma want with you this time?”

Gita was Shinso’s best friend in the general studies program and his bandmate; they both played guitar. And she knew all about Shinso’s issues with Monoma.

More of the general studies students crowded into Shinso’s room, and he closed the door behind him to push them all out. Was he gatekeeping his training regimen and readings? Maybe. His seasonal anime also weren’t their business.

As Shinso’s classmates chattered — chittered? — about Monoma’s weird message, Shinso recalled another technical mishap of the communication system, resulting in messages being broadcast to the whole school—excluding Class 1-A, who dodged many distracting bullets.

Gita stared up at Shinso with wide, two-toned brown eyes. “You’re not seriously gonna sneak into Class 1-B’s dorm, are you?”

Shinso grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a hero student’s dorm. Might as well check it out.”

Gita frowned. “He may be a hero student,” she admitted, “but he’s also a boy, and he’s definitely not straight. There are only so many reasons he’s inviting you over.”

Their classmates crowed. Shinso suppressed a sigh. Did Monoma have to make fun of him so publicly?

~***~

Shinso stood on Monoma’s balcony, annoyed it was late enough to be chilly and wishing he’d worn something warmer than a graphic T-shirt, sweatpants, and slippers. His fingers itched to hold a cigarette, something to kill time, but he didn’t want to get kicked out of U.A. a month after Mr. Aizawa started training him. Also, Pro Heroes didn’t smoke; they needed to stay fit. Shinso paced the balcony, got tired, and leaned against the railing just as the door slid open and Monoma appeared.

Monoma dressed in summer fashion: a polka dot shirt unbuttoned over a plain white T-shirt, khaki shorts, string bracelets with beads and shell fragments, stylishly frayed sandals. He smirked.

Shinso rubbed the back of his neck. As infuriating as Monoma was, he was also damn cute.

“You look cold,” Monoma commented.

“I am cold.”

“I invited you over. Why didn’t you come in?”

“I can’t just walk into your room.” Shinso smiled hesitantly. “I’m a vampire.”

Monoma gestured with a flourish. “You’re too hot to be a vampire.”

“You just said I looked cold.”

“Hot and cold, in all the sexiest ways.” Monoma led Shinso inside.

All thoughts of how obnoxious and perverse and mocking Monoma was disappeared when Shinso stepped into Monoma’s room, kicking off his slippers on the way. His feet sank an inch into the plush rug, and he hopped onto the wooden floor, which was heated. Clocks filled up the room, one ticking too fast, another ticking backward. While Shinso had posters of metal-studded heroes and rock musicians, Monoma decorated artistically, with slim Western figures, some in dresses that showed off curves, others with fedoras and trench coats that gave an air of intrigue. Interestingly, there were no posters of Pro Heroes.

As Monoma chatted about gaming the system and using Hatsume’s device to host private parties — Shinso didn’t have the heart to tell him they’d be as private as the whole school, except the faculty and maybe Class 1-A — Shinso wandered toward the bookshelves. While he didn’t like structural shelves himself, he admired others’, and he could tell this was made of expensive wood. But the books were what mattered most.

Shinso brushed his fingers over the spines, many of them worn from being opened over and over. Books about self-care, fashion, business, psychology, history—none of them memoirs, none of them about modern society. Actually, there was one— Meta Liberation War by Chikara Yotsubashi, one of the few books that looked untouched.

“That one’s a gift,” Monoma explained. He stuck out his tongue. “From my parents. Technically, it was my personal assistant Alfred who gave it to me, but he said it was from them.”

“You have a butler?”

“Personal assistant.”

“A nanny?”

Monoma shook him. “Per-so-nal—ah, forget it. Were you looking for anything in particular? If it’s porn you want, Manga Fukidashi has the goods. Hiryu Rin has smutty light novels as well—and you don’t want to know what Jurota Shishida reads.”

“I was reading The First Symbol of Peace —All Might’s fifth memoir.”

Monoma raised an eyebrow.

Shinso rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m an All Might nerd—who isn’t? Well,” he admitted, noting the lack of books on Pro Heroes in Monoma’s room, “you don’t read much about Pro Heroes, it seems. You think you’re too good for it?”

“Something like that.” Monoma beamed, his teeth radiant-white. “I’d rather have people read about me!”

Shinso was both excited for and pitied the sap who’d write Monoma’s memoir—the first of what would be many, both because he imagined Monoma would have a long career as a Pro Hero, and because Monoma would be the type to demand multiple books be written about him. He glanced at the papers on Monoma’s desk; good god, was he writing a memoir for himself? “Did you ask me to come over just so you could brag?”

“No—but if I did, would that be so bad?” Monoma wrapped an arm around Shinso’s shoulders and led him to his bed, which was, surprisingly, twin-sized. “I wanted to talk, and talking includes what commoners think of as bragging but is really just me stating my accomplishments.”

Though nowhere near as big as his ego, Monoma’s bed was soft, and Shinso felt himself sinking. Monoma would destroy his back like this, but it was so comfy… 

Gita’s warning echoed in Shinso’s mind, almost drowning out Monoma stating more of his accomplishments, both past and future. Shinso had been wary of Monoma mocking him, but somehow this — sitting on Monoma’s bed, close enough their knees brushed, Monoma’s silver-blue eyes sparkling with a future Shinso craved — felt more dangerous. What did Monoma really want?

What did Shinso want?

The clocks ticked loudly. Shinso remembered Mr. Aizawa timing him on drills. And he knew what he wanted.

Shinso got off the bed, almost knocking into Monoma. When he reached the sliding door, Monoma exclaimed, “Am I that scary?”

Shinso couldn’t help but turn around, only to find Monoma reaching toward the damned communication device, already planning on sending a Chitter message. “I’ll just invite you over again, and we’ll try—”

“Chitter broadcasts to the whole school even if you try to send a private message.” When Monoma looked up sharply, Shinso took a deep breath. “Except for the faculty and Class 1-A, but that still includes the upperclassmen, my classmates, your classmates—”

“Then tonight—”

“Yeah, pretty much everyone knows.”

Monoma’s face reddened. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“You kept talking about yourself.”

“Oh, don’t make this all about me.”

Shinso raised an eyebrow. “That’s a first.” He opened the sliding door. “Don’t embarrass yourself any more; don’t contact me again.”

With that, Shinso closed the door behind him, leaped off the balcony, and slipped into the night—which would’ve been a lot easier with more training. Scrambling for footing and falling on his butt on soft grass wasn’t as heroic or romantic.

~***~

THEME SONG: “Moongazing” by Kenshi Yonezu

~***~

END OF THE START OF SUMMER ARC

NEXT ARC: The Provisional License Exam

Chapter 14: Provisional License Exam, Part 1

Summary:

With summer reaching its peak, the provisional license exam arc begins! Class 1-B encounters students from Ketsubutsu in the first round.

Notes:

The Shiketsu students we're familiar with—Meat Guy, Wind Guy, and Camie—won't be appearing in this arc since Class 1-A and Class 1-B are in completely separate test sites. The same applies for the Ketsubutsu students we know and love (oof Turtle and, well, Vibrator), but coming up with a bunch of OCs, unique Quirks, and iconic costumes would've been too much effort, so all the Ketsubutsu students are from Port Mafia and all the Shiketsu students are from the Bloodhounds in Bungou Stray Dogs. The crossover begins!

We should erect a spiritual naturalism. Realize it and it will be another glory, another perfection, another power. Naturalism, however, should try to put more emphasis upon the spiritual values of human beings. Miracles should not be explained in terms of sensualism. 

—Ogai Mori, Vita Sexualis

~***~

Neito Monoma had to admit—both in stocks and in exams, he sometimes took too much risk for his own good.

Now he was almost eliminated from the first round of the provisional license exam, with two of his targets having been hit. He thought he’d been clever, putting a target next to his armpit—just barely on an exposed area, but close enough to the Achilles’ heel of a protagonist from foreign literature. But as soon as he raised his arm to throw a ball to hit someone’s third target, another sneaky student hit his weak point. And another student hit a second target by a fluke, Monoma too shocked from the first hit to block or dodge.

At least with risk came reward, and Monoma had eliminated one of the silly Shiketsu kids whose Quirks he borrowed, which now manifested as a magnificent dagger sticking out of his forehead like a lethal unicorn horn.

Monoma was keeping track of the Quirks he held. First, Big Fist, which the class rep of Class 1-B, Itsuka Kendo, let him Copy every time their groups met up; this was the third instance. Second, Sword, a self-explanatory Quirk from the dork who called himself the Sword Hero: Plum Blossom—not to be confused with any sword he manifested, which he also called Plum Blossom. And third, an unknown Quirk he’d Copied by accident, startled when a petite redhead who called herself Teru-chan went right up to him. Without having seen her actually use her Quirk, and with so much at stake, he was too wary to use the third Quirk.

The P.A. system crinkled, and a tired voice drawled, “I am obligated to inform y’all that with the 51st student having passed the first round, the exam is more than halfway over… What’s this? Ochi Fukuchi from Shiketsu High has eliminated six people at the same time, using all his balls at once. Wow. Some people have too much energy.” Yokumiru Mera from the Public Safety Commission yawned. “The sooner the exam ends, the sooner I can return to my nap…”

Monoma clicked his tongue, annoyed. He despised over-achievers like that Shiketsu kid. Now it’d be even harder to find people left to eliminate—but, ironically, it was also a boon. With way more students than could actually pass, an over-achiever eliminating a few extra nobodies technically increased Monoma’s and his classmates’ odds.

“Monoma,” Awase said, his voice strained, “what’s the plan?”

Monoma, Awase, Tsuburaba, Kaibara, and Kamakiri — the squad — along with Tetsutetsu, Kuroiro, and Shiozaki — how had the pious girl gotten stuck with them? — were surrounded by a group of students from Ketsubutsu who had the higher ground. How did Monoma’s group end up in this situation?

He blamed that cocky over-achiever.

Monoma gave his classmates a wild grin. “We outnumber them! We’ll win this and pass.”

Tetsutetsu pounded his steel chest. “Yeah!”

A tall teenage girl in a pink kimono, the outfit complete with a cherry blossom pin securing her orange bun, stretched out a hand. A gigantesque gold woman loomed over the group, wielding a magnificent golden sword. Tetsutetsu took the hit as Monoma fumbled twice to turn Plum Blossom into a longsword emanating from his hand. It looked like a worm compared to the familiar’s, but it’d have to do. Monoma duelled with the giant gold swordswoman.

The ginger girl’s classmates cheered for her. “You go, Jin-sama! We love you, Jin-sama!”

<Ketsubutsu second year Koyo Ozaki. Hero name—Jin-sama. Quirk—Gold Demon. She can turn her family’s wealth into a familiar. Unfortunately for her, stocks crashed during the entrance exam, so she was unable to make it into U.A. Fortunately though, her family’s stocks are currently sky-rocketing!>

Unfortunately for us, Monoma thought with gritted teeth as the familiar shattered Monoma’s sword — poor Plum Blossom — and sent him hiding behind Shiozaki’s wall of vines.

“Real Steel, distract the familiar! Vine—”

“Do not order me,” Shiozaki interrupted. “I know obedience is a virtue, and I apologize for my lack of teamwork in this fight, but I am called on to punish our opponents’ leader.”

A young man with long, greasy black hair caressed what looked like a doll. His well-dressed junior leaned toward him like he was going to whisper, only to announce loudly, “The prickly-haired chick looks like she wants to kill you, Mori.”

Mori cleared his throat. “My hero name, Nakahara.”

“With all due respect,” Nakahara said with a tone that implied no due respect at all, “you can’t really expect me to call you that.”

<Ketsubutsu third year Ogai Mori. Hero name—Vita Sexualis. Quirk—Elise. When Mori was born, he seemed to have a fraternal twin that had eluded all ultrasound technology. However, as both children grew, it turned out the little girl was her so-called brother’s Quirk! And a few years before middle school, she stopped growing entirely!>

Monoma grimaced. “Yuck. Okay, Vine, deal with the pervert. Vantablack, take the guy with the shadow familiar.”

Kuroiro’s uncanny grin was white against his black silhouette. “On it, Phantom Thief.” And he vanished into shadows to battle the Shadow Summoner.

<Ketsubutsu first year Ryunosuke Akutagawa. Hero name—Rashomon. Quirk—Shadow Summoning. He can create shadows out of nothing! They all emerge from his back like wings, and his coat helps amplify them.>

“Real Steel, shield me from the gold familiar while I go after Ozaki.” Everyone in Ketsubutsu, it seemed, had a familiar-based Quirk. It must be a trend. “Everyone else, deal with Nakahara!”

Awase, Tsuburaba, Kaibara, and Kamakiri groaned in unison.

<Ketsubutsu first year Chuya Nakahara. Hero name—Tainted Sorrow. Quirk—Gravitas. While Uraraka from Class 1-A negates the effects of gravity, he controls the very force itself!>

Monoma felt like he was forgetting someone from Ketsubutsu, but then Elise was spewing candy like bullets, and everyone was on the move. Shiozaki used her vines to launch herself out of the deep pit to confront Mori. Meanwhile, Monoma was having a harder time climbing the sheer rock. When he jumped for a hand hold, Ozaki’s familiar swung her sword at him.

Tetsutetsu leaped in front of him but got knocked out, gold superior to steel. Monoma activated Big Fist to block the massive chunk of gold, and swore vehemently when the blade sliced all the way from the tip of his middle finger to his wrist.

As Big Fist faded and Monoma’s hand returned to normal size, his blood spurted. Monoma would’ve fainted if not for the sudden pull of gravity—he flew toward Tainted Sorrow.

Monoma laughed maniacally. “Thanks for sharing your Quirk, Sorrow!” He swerved to avoid a ball launched at him, but it kept following him. When his fingers brushed Nakahara and knocked off the short boy’s hat, the ball swerved to his hand. Too late, Monoma remembered his injury.

Nakahara grimaced. “Gross, you got blood all over it. That ball’s yours now.” He backflipped to dodge Monoma’s attack, picking up and dusting off his hat along the way.

“You’re my opponent!” Ozaki bellowed, her familiar sweeping Monoma toward her as the boys reached Nakahara.

Tainted Sorrow was a formidable combatant, but even he struggled against four skilled fighters with impressive teamwork. Tsuburaba’s Solid Air froze Nakahara’s Gravitas, and Awase prepared to weld a weight that would handicap their opponent—but then the weight flew away as though from reverse gravity. “What…”

“Oy!” Kaibara and Kamakiri were also pulled away.

A gangly boy with a scar across the bridge of his nose controlled all things metal: the chains and armored plates as part of his hero costume, Awase’s and Kaibara’s support gear, even Kamakiri’s elbow swords.

<First year Michizo Tachihara. Hero name—Midwinter Memento. Quirk—Ferrokinesis. He can manipulate anything metallic! In a post-industrial society, that’s basically everything! Imagine the terror he’d impose on villains if his Quirk becomes precise enough to manipulate the iron in blood…>

“Another Ketsubutsu pest?!” Monoma exclaimed. Still, he didn’t think Tachihara was the one he was forgetting.

As if on cue, an explosion blew up the whole pit.

Chapter 15: Provisional License Exam, Part 2

Summary:

The provisional license exam continues! The first round comes to a conclusion, and the second round begins. We know everyone in Class 1-B made it, but which Ketsubutsu and Shiketsu students will they encounter? And what tricks does Monoma have up his sleeve for the rescue portion?

Notes:

I know we saw the Shiketsu uniform as navy blue, but I can only imagine the Bloodhounds in their burgundy uniforms, so that's the color I went with for the Shiketsu students in this test site. We'll explore why Shiketsu has two uniform colors in a later chapter. :)

The dancer held a wooden lion head … and was locked into a room with the mask and told to practice. At first she was overwhelmed by her surroundings and danced rather timidly. As she became more engrossed in the task her steps quickened. Fascinated against her will, she took up the lion head and danced a tentative movement. Gradually the spirit of the lion entered into her and took complete charge of her limbs.

—Ochi Fukuchi, “Mirror Lion”

The explosion shook up the cliff edge, and Monoma almost slid down after the heavy debris. Dammit, now his costume was all dusty. When he’d find the culprit, he’d… he’d… he sneezed, a surprisingly strong tang of lemons in the air.

A boy cackled, his voice nasally. He wore a white lab coat and gripped bright yellow bombs—were those lemons?

<Ketsubutsu second year Motojiro Kaiji. Hero name—Lemonist. Quirk—Citrus Bomb. Through a series of chemical reactions using the oils from his skin, he can convert citruses to explosives! Since heroes need an iconic image, he exclusively uses lemons.>

The other Ketsubutsu students groaned. “Ugh, seriously, Kaiji? You almost made us fall!”

Kaiji screeched, “It’s Lemonist! My hero name is Lemonist!”

When Akutagawa frowned, his whole forehead crinkled. “That sounds racist.”

Mori shrugged, his arms wrapped around little Elise’s waist. “He does only use lemons.”

Shiozaki clasped her hands. “‘Before you remove the speck in your neighbor’s eye, remove the log from thine own eye.’”

When Akutagawa became enraged, his whole face contorted, and the shadow from his back became crooked, almost demonic. “How dare you insult my senpai?!” He tried to lunge at Shiozaki, but a dark force yanked him back.

Kuroiro grinned. “You’re my opponent, Rashomon. It has been dictated by fate and our complementary Quirks.”

Shiozaki declared, “And the sinner called Vita Sexualis is mine to punish!”

Kuroiro snuck up to Akutagawa, blending in with the Shadow Summoner’s own shadow, and eliminated his fate- and Quirk-dictated opponent. 

At the same time, Shiozaki used her vines to snatch Elise away from Mori. She cradled the little girl carefully, though she extended none of that compassion to the opponent who disgusted her. When Mori was eliminated, he collapsed to his knees, utterly devastated. Monoma remembered that as a third year, this had been Ogai Mori’s last chance to take the exam as a high school student. He’d be on his own from here, and the odds were always stacked against anyone who took a different path.

Monoma dodged the descent of a familiar’s gigantic gold sword. Ozaki snapped, “Keep your eyes forward, boy! Have the dignity to face me when I eliminate you!”

Monoma smirked. “I don’t care about being as honorable as a samurai.” He ran up the flat edge of the familiar’s sword and kicked off the titanic being’s helmet. Plum Blossom, a borrowed sword protruding from his injured hand, lasted just long enough to slash the familiar’s eyes.

As the titan’s scream ruptured everyone’s ears, Plum Blossom faded—just in time for Monoma to upgrade the borrowed Quirk. Since Monoma’s family had made decent bank selling Stain merch — against Monoma’s wishes, not that his parents cared — he could generate an impressive gold… well, it somewhat resembled a sword.

“With a Quirk like mine,” Monoma explained, “battling in a noble way isn’t an option for me.”

As his lumpy gold sculpture shielded him from Ozaki’s familiar and wrath, he slipped behind her to throw the ball at her third target—right on her back, which her familiar would’ve protected if not for Monoma’s Copy.

“Fighting dirty,” Ozaki gasped, “will only get you so far.”

He winked. “And maybe that’ll be far enough.”

She closed her eyes, accepting her defeat. Unlike Mori, she had one more year—one more year to hone her samurai style or learn to fight like a ronin.

Monoma waved at his friends, who were still battling gravity-wielding Tainted Sorrow and metal-manipulating Tachihara. “Don’t take too long!”

Another of Kaiji’s lemons exploded, but Tetsutetsu took the hit and used the distraction to eliminate Lemonist. “Right behind you, boss!”

As Monoma and Tetsutetsu headed to the lobby, they saw a teenage boy who looked like he could be a Todoroki, with red streaks in his white hair. However, his eyes were pitch-black. His military-like uniform identified him as a Shiketsu student; students could apparently choose between navy blue and burgundy, and all the ones at this test site had selected the latter. He lifted a long, slim finger to his lips with a smile and then disappeared in a poof of light dust.

~***~

The lobby contained the dozens of students who had passed the first round, meaning there were plenty of loud, obnoxious showoffs. Among them, the loudest, most obnoxious showoff was the over-achiever who had eliminated three times as many opponents as was required—Ochi Fukuchi.

“Bow to the most superior hero student in all of Japan! I will be the next symbol of peace! Remember my hero name—Mirror Lion! For like the king of beasts, I will be the king of heroes!”

Monoma felt a bump on his elbow and turned to see the vice-class rep of Class 1-B, Shoda. “You know, Monoma, he kind of reminds me of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Shoda,” Monoma chastised his classmate. “I’ll be more than a king as Phantom Thief!”

Shoda’s eye twitched, his mouth stretched in annoyance. Monoma thought the vice-class rep should get that checked.

Awase, Tsuburaba, Kaibara, and Kamakiri strolled into the lobby, battered but victorious. Monoma extended his arms in a flourish. “You made it!”

Kamakiri grunted. “Obviously.”

“You defeated Tainted Sorrow and Tachihara?” Not that Monoma doubted his friends, but those first years from Ketsubutsu were formidable.

“I wish. Nah, they got away. Pretty sure they’re in this lobby now too.”

Monoma waved dismissively. “What matters is that everyone in Class 1-B passed.”

“I can confirm that,” Kendo said, joining the group. “I was hoping we’d all make it in the first 50, but being in the first 60 isn’t too bad either.” She clicked her tongue when she saw Monoma’s hand, and pulled out a first-aid kit. “You should’ve gotten that treated as soon as you got here.”

Tetsutetsu punched Monoma’s arm, oblivious to the fact that he was still in his steel form. “We did just get here! We passed by this guy from Shiketsu who did this wicked disappearing act just outside. Hey, Monoma, you still got the Quirks you Copied from those Shiketsu kids?”

“I miss Plum Blossom already, and I only have a few seconds left with—what was it, Soul Gasp?”

“Dude! You have to test out that Quirk!”

Monoma ignored Kendo’s protests and glanced at Fukuchi, who was loudly explaining to a group of girls that his name was Mirror Lion, not Mira Ryan. Yui Kodai looked unimpressed.

Monoma swaggered toward Fukuchi — who was much taller than he’d expected — and brushed a hand over the older boy’s tough bicep, activating Soul Gasp.

Fukuchi stared at him in horror. “That’s my kohai’s—” 

And then Fukuchi became a kohai himself, regressing to a middle schooler who barely reached Monoma’s shoulders. How the tables have turned, Monoma thought with glee.

“—Quirk! You stole her Quirk!” Young Fukuchi squeaked, his voice cracking.

And then the effect ended, and Fukuchi returned to normal. Monoma was keenly aware of how much taller and bigger Fukuchi was than him, and backed away with his hands up in mock truce. “I prefer to say ‘borrowed.’ Really, it’s not even that—more accurately, I Copied her Quirk. It’s like how corporate tries to frame piracy as thievery, but it’s not. It’s piracy.”

“So you claim to be a pirate?”

“Not at all. My hero name is Phantom Thief.”

“Aha! You are a thief!”

Kendo pulled Monoma away by the ear. “Sorry about him, Ryan.”

“It’s Lion! Mirror Lion!”

Kendo sighed as she bandaged up Monoma’s hand. “Can’t you learn to get along with other hero students?”

“This exam is a competition, Kendo.”

She looked at him. “Maybe, but the second round will require collaboration.”

~***~

Monoma was impressed by how Kendo got all her insider info — first the final exams at U.A., now the provisional license exam — but this time she was right; the second round focused on rescue, for which teamwork was essential. Kendo had a knack for triage, and she coordinated first-aid efforts with the confidence and skill of a trained medic. Kodai’s Quirk enabled surgical precision when treating the actors’ injuries—although the casualties were actors from Help Us Company, the injuries were real; Monoma wondered how much H.U.C. paid them to get hurt. And Bondo, with a ready supply of glue from his Quirk, got to shine here. Monoma Copied their Quirks for a while and then wandered away from the first-aid tent, wanting to show the examiners he was capable of more.

While Kendo led the first-aid sector, Honenuki led the recovery efforts, guiding the hero students in safely removing casualties from collapsed buildings and debris; having done an internship with the Ministry of State for Disaster Management, he was well-suited for the role. Yanagi’s Poltergeist worked well with Tachihara’s Ferrokinesis as the duo carefully lifted debris off of and away from fallen casualties. Fukuchi propped up a rusty bar to use as a lever.

Monoma blinked. “That won’t hold for long.”

Fukuchi flicked a stray curl away from his feline eyes. “Watch, ye of little faith.” To the bending, creaking beam, he ordered, “Roar, my fellow beast! Show thine strength!”

The rust popped off, as rust does, and the flimsy-looking bar buffed up into a construction-level prop, strong enough to move the collapsed building so rescuers could run in.

<Shiketsu third year Ochi Fukuchi. Hero name—Mirror Lion. Quirk—Strength Multiplier. He can take any object and increase its strength by a hundredfold! It only works on inorganic objects, a limitation he boasts as his own muscle growth is by pure effort!>

Monoma’s eyes widened. Now this was a Quirk he could—

Fukuchi grabbed Monoma’s wrist before Monoma could touch him, and threw him to the ground. The rocky terrain and sheer force knocked the wind out of him.

Fukuchi growled in an ominously low tone, “Did you think I’d let you steal my Quirk and make me fail too?”

Chapter 16: Provisional License Exam, Part 3

Summary:

This is the conclusion to the provisional license exam arc! What does Monoma do to pass? And how do the students from Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu fare? Their dynamics set the stage for exciting future interactions...

Notes:

Shiketsu's burgundy cohort functions a bit differently: students are expected to wear their uniform as a hero costume unless doing so would significantly hinder their ability to use their Quirk in combat and other practical applications. This ended up happening cuz I couldn't imagine the Bloodhounds in anything but their fancy military uniforms, but we'll learn more about Shiketsu's unique system in a later chapter. :)

Neither pursuing nor being pursued,

I stand under a barren tree. I’m watching

my silhouette, now marooned on a spotless snow

…

In a plaintively nasal voice it sings tunes of long-gone

summer flowers never to return.

—Michizo Tachihara, “Midwinter Memento”

Neito Monoma’s Quirk required close proximity to an opponent—close enough to touch them, even if they were a dangerous villain. And since he’d always wanted to be a Pro Hero, it’d make sense for his greatest fear to be villain-related, no?

Well, Monoma had conquered that back-of-the-mind, barely-there fear earlier that summer when he and his friends snuck out after the sports festival to confront Stain.

No, Monoma had a much greater fear: heroes—righteous heroes with their righteous anger when he Copied their Quirks and stole their glory. And Ochi Fukuchi, the arrogant third year from Shiketsu now looming over him, looked very, very angry.

Monoma understood, actually. In a typical school exam, what he was doing would be flagrant cheating. But this wasn’t a typical school exam; the provisional license exam tested students’ potential to be Pro Heroes.

Monoma crooked his elbow over Fukuchi’s wrist to twist it, causing Fukuchi to stumble—right into Monoma’s knee. Monoma pulled himself into a standing position, Copying the older student’s marvelous Quirk in the process.

A spiteful part of him wanted to beat down Fukuchi by taking a random piece of debris, activating Strength Multiplier, and turning this third year’s own Quirk against him with much physical force. He could hear Kendo’s chiding voice like an older sister. Can’t you learn to get along with other hero students?  

This exam tests students’ potential to be Pro Heroes.  

Monoma offered his hand. “Let’s work together to rescue some casualties.”

Fukuchi glared at him, his feline eyes conveying a deadly threat.

“Please don’t break my fingers,” Monoma added with a nervous laugh.

Before Fukuchi could reply, the ground rumbled. The third year roared, “EARTHQUAKE!!! Everyone get to safety!”

“Not an earthquake!” Juzo Honenuki hollered. “It’s—”

The ground ruptured, revealing Master Driller and his henchmen. The Drill Hero finished Honenuki’s warning with a mighty bellow. “—Master Driller and his villain gang!”

Fukuchi tossed a bent pipe toward Monoma and activated Strength Multiplier on a slab of concrete for himself. “You want to work together? Then team up with me against these villains!”

“Not so fast!” Chuya Nakahara sprinted to join the duo. Had he run all the way across the arena just to get to battle mock villains? He held out a gloved hand for Monoma to Copy Gravitas. “I’m taking these guys down, and you guys can back me up.”

Is every school besides U.A. this snobby? Monoma wondered.

Fukuchi chuckled. “Aw, let’s all hold hands and fight with the power of friendship!”

Monoma and Nakahara replied in unison with a firm “No.”

“First years,” the older boy grumbled, then charged toward the mob before the mock villains could swarm the rescue tent.

Monoma combined Strength Multiplier and Gravitas to swing the heavy chunk of metal to deal solid damage against the mob. Two villains down, then three more, then another two, four more—a glorious wallop took out half a dozen at once!

Monoma dropped the oversized pipe, almost crushing his fallen opponent’s skull. He leaned over, exhausted. His fingers were blistered and his muscles were sore. He should’ve found someone with a regenerating Quirk, or some sort of strength-based Quirk like that annoying kid from Class 1-A.

Someone tapped Monoma’s shoulder.

Monoma blinked. “You’re the guy who can disappear. Are you a Todoroki?”

The ends of the boy’s white hair looked like they’d been dipped in blood. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he raised a white-gloved finger to his lips. “Not a Todoroki, but that’ll be our secret, ‘kay?”

<Shiketsu first year Saigiku Jono. Hero name—Disappearing Hero: Born From Dust. Quirk—Disintegrate. He can dissolve into dust and reform himself anywhere in a 10-foot radius from his original location!>

Jono rested a slender hand on a collapsed building with seemingly no way of reaching trapped casualties. “The second half of my ability comes from an intricate understanding of my mind and body. I’ve put myself in a coma at least half a dozen times and been declared missing almost half as many times. Try to Copy my Quirk and you might not be able to piece yourself back together!” He brought his finger to his lips again. “But that’ll be our secret, ‘kay?”

With that, he vanished in a poof of light. A cloud of dust seeped between the cracks, and then Jono was in the collapsed building.

“What an idiot,” a cocky voice remarked.

Monoma recognized Michizo Tachihara, hero name Midwinter Memento, who had helped his fellow Ketsubutsu students in the first round of the exam. “I know, right?”

“So he got in. How the hell does he expect to get the HUC-tors out?”

“Exactly!”

Tachihara glanced at him. “I’ll let you share my Quirk, Ferrokinesis, if you agree to use it on equal grounds with me to help old Crusty Dusty.”

All three of them were the same age, but with the burgundy military-like uniform that Shiketsu students wore, Jono really did seem older. Monoma smiled wickedly. “What if I outshine you with your own Quirk, Memento?”

Tachihara leaned forward — the chains and armored plates of his costume clinked, and he was close enough that Monoma could see the taut fibers of scar tissue over the bridge of his nose — and whispered so the examiners couldn’t hear him. “I’ll kill you.” He then stood straight with a friendly smile. “Deal?”

Nearby, Chuya Nakahara bellowed obscenities when Master Driller sent him flying; Gravitas, as it turned out, was not an invincible Quirk. Monoma draped the back of his hand over his forehead. “Is everyone from Ketsubutsu this crazy?”

Tachihara raised a dark orange eyebrow, awaiting Monoma’s response.

“Fine—deal.”

Monoma and Tachihara worked together to raise the building. Jono was carrying a long-haired casualty. “Finally! Took you two losers long enough.”

At once, the H.U.C. actor broke character to berate him. “Insulting your allies discourages cooperation and hinders rescue efforts! Points deducted! As for the two of you, your colleague is right—what took you so damn long?! Points deducted!”

Monoma, Tachihara, and Jono froze—but only for an instant, and then Monoma declared, “Let’s stop dawdling, people! Bring the casualty to the rescue tent, where Battle Fist is triaging patients. You’ll be in good hands, ma’am!”

Monoma continued flitting between different areas, Copying new Quirks and assisting in the rescue efforts in various aspects. He was a jack of all abilities.

~***~

At the end of the exam, score reports were distributed. Without a ranking system, Monoma didn’t know where his 82 stood. Kendo got a solid 95 for her consistent leadership, optimism, and composure even in the face of grisly injuries. The recommended students Honenuki and Tokage also scored well for their ability to multitask, while Kodai’s and Bondo’s feedback inquired about their rescue abilities beyond first-aid.

After making sure everyone in Class 1-B passed — which they obviously did — Monoma wondered how students from the other schools had fared. 

“Whaddya mean I lost points for fighting?!” Chuya Nakahara yelled. “I did the very important job of protecting my colleagues by fighting villains!”

“But you lost,” Master Driller pointed out. He clapped Nakahara’s back. “Besides, what does it matter? You still passed!”

“Barely,” Nakahara muttered.

Jono folded his report into neat quarters. “I may have passed, but I will continue to reflect on my weaknesses and strive to improve myself.”

Tachihara nodded, though he was scowling.

“Bwhahaha!” Fukuchi chortled, throwing his arms around Jono and Tachihara. “Teru-chan and Tetcho Suehiro may have been unfairly eliminated by that copycat, but the rest of us passed with flying colors! Great job, my kohai!”

A cheer went across a group of students in the same burgundy uniforms as Fukuchi and Jono—but also a few students in hero costumes, including Michizo Tachihara.

Monoma gawked. “You’re from Shiketsu?!”

Tachihara beamed. “Yeah, I have a costume exception for this exam ‘cause of the nature of my Quirk. Good working with you, Copycat!”

“Call me Phantom Thief.”

“We’ll work together again soon, I’m sure.”

“Of course, we’re both provisional license holders.”

Fukuchi chuckled. “Not only that, Phantom Thief. Shiketsu and U.A. are in the process of planning a joint training session!”

Jono elbowed him. “That’s supposed to be confidential, senpai.”

“Oh, what does it matter? They’ll know in a few months anyway!”

“Don’t get me in trouble, Mirror Lion.” Jono disappeared in a spray of light dust like celebratory confetti.

As the students chattered and congratulated each other, Monoma gazed at the mass of students and examiners. Even though most of the Shiketsu students present were first years — like U.A., Shiketsu encouraged their students to take the exam starting in their first year, and like U.A., most passed the first time, resulting in only a few upper year students returning — they moved with military-like confidence and precision. How had Monoma not noticed that in Tachihara?

The joint training session would certainly be interesting.

~***~

END OF THE PROVISIONAL LICENSE EXAM ARC

NEXT ARC: High School Heroes

Chapter 17: A Date With a Hero

Summary:

With the provisional license exam over, we return to Shinso's perspective as he enviously watches the hero students receive their licenses—and gets asked out on a date! Although his last interaction with Monoma ended rockily, both boys are willing to put the incident behind them and get to know each other more...

Notes:

The way I interpreted Monoma and Shinso's relationship, they get along well cuz ultimately, they're willing to put up with each other. :)

By the way, "Gita" is the Japanese word for "guitar" since that's how she and Shinso connected, and "Ryoki" means "wingman."

“You’re torturing yourself,” Gita Ryoki warned, tying her long brown hair in a ponytail for the day.

It was the morning after the provisional license exam, and Hitoshi Shinso had caught the mailman delivering an important package to the dorms. His training with Eraserhead had wrapped up, as the Class 1-A homeroom teacher wanted to oversee the license delivery for his class.

“That’ll be me soon,” Shinso had said.

Eraserhead patted Shinso’s shoulder without a reply.

“Right? That’s why you’re training me, isn’t it?”

“The exam is held twice a year,” Mr. Aizawa grumbled, as though twice a year was two times too many. “Even if you transfer to the hero program—and that’s an if, mind you—you’d only have a few months to prepare to compete with second and third years.”

“I can do it,” Shinso insisted. “Your other students did, didn’t they?”

“Careful now, I’m not your teacher.”

“Yet.”

Mr. Aizawa grinned. “See if you still want me as your teacher after a few more months of training.” His smile faded as though from envisioning more months of extra work. “Besides, two of my students failed the second round of the exam.”

Back in the present with his best friend and bandmate Gita, Shinso wondered if anyone from Class 1-B had failed. From what he’d seen at the sports festival, Class 1-B seemed less competitive—and yet there was a strong sense of camaraderie among them. He couldn’t imagine their class rep or Monoma allowing anyone to fall behind or screw up badly enough to fail.

“You’re thinking of that blond guy again,” Gita noted.

“What?”

Gita scrunched up her face. “You have this super-focused yet super-distracted look, like you both want to see him and can’t stand his presence. That last part is understandable, the guy’s a snob. And when they receive their licenses — whoop de doo — they’ll all be snobs, the whole lot of those hero students.”

Shinso looked at her. “When I become a hero student and get my license,” he said, meeting her light brown eyes, “do you think I’d also be a snob?”

Gita stared back at him with concern. “But you’re not a hero student.”

“Yet.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “I know Mr. Aizawa has been training you, but are you really sure about transferring programs? Besides how difficult transferring itself is, you’d also be behind…”

Shinso rubbed the back of his neck. “Have a bit of faith, Gita.”

Gita opened her mouth as though to chide him more, but then the hero students were pouring out to grab their licenses from the mail. Some were even eating breakfast or brushing their teeth while walking, and Shinso had to admit, their fingers looked grubby as they tore open the packaging like little kids opening gifts.

A familiar voice exclaimed, “Well, look who it is!”

Monoma sashayed toward Shinso and Gita, somehow looking put-together in a rumpled pink shirt and gym shorts. He smelled like mint and a cinnamon bagel, though his hair was still unbrushed. “My favorite general studies student!” He squinted at Gita. “And who are you?”

Please be civil, please be civil, please—

“Gita Ryoki, also from general studies.” Shinso’s best friend held out her hand.

Monoma shook it with a grin. “Lovely Miss Ryoki, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. By the way, what lotion do you use? Fall is coming, I despise dry skin, and you seem prepared.”

“I’ll share my recs on Chitter tonight.” She glanced at Shinso, trying to stifle her smile. Shinso suppressed a sigh. Now that Gita liked Monoma, Shinso was going to have a harder time complaining about him.

Monoma slung his arms around both general studies students’ shoulders. “Our provisional licenses came out, did you know?”

“I heard from a little birdie,” Gita said.

Shinso tried to play it cool. “I didn’t know.”

Gita, of course, had to spoil his coolness. “The little birdie was Shinso.”

“You like hearing the sound of your own voice, don’t you, songbird?” Monoma sounded like he couldn’t care less—after all, today was all about the hero students, wasn’t it? It seemed like most days were. He opened the package with a clean flick, though his hair tickled Shinso’s ear in the process. “Voilà! Isn’t it magnifique?”

Shinso stared, hoping his fascination wasn’t too obvious. While the license included obvious details like Monoma’s full name and birthday, the hero name — PHANTOM THIEF — was the most prominent part—that, and the photo. Monoma looked hella hot. He was also smirking at the camera.

“Are you allowed to do that?” Shinso couldn’t help but ask.

“Do what?”

Shinso waved vaguely. “Your photo.”

“Am I allowed to look hot? Obviously.” Monoma waved his license with a flourish, as though he were the only first year with one, though from the sounds of it, his whole class was now licensed. “Am I now allowed to go out and do hero work? You bet!” He turned his smirk on Shinso. “Am I also allowed to take you out?”

Shinso blinked. It almost sounded like—

Gita caught on fast. “Absolutely not.”

Shinso pointed out, “Technically, unlike Shiketsu, students are allowed to go out.”

Monoma beamed. “Look at you, doing your research. Well?”

Shinso felt mocked. Monoma was obviously making fun of him, wanting to gloat that he now had his hero license. And with 100% of his class and 90% of the other hero class also having a license, going out with one of them wouldn’t be as ego-inflating; a cursory glance across the courtyard indicated who in Class 1-A hadn’t passed, and Shinso doubted Bakugo or Todoroki would be willing to indulge Monoma’s obnoxious mischief.

Still, he’d get to hang out with an actual hero student, and if he was lucky, he might even see Monoma actually flaunt his hero abilities. What a learning opportunity that’d be!

Shinso rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Sure, why not?”

~***~

Shinso had almost forgotten how much Monoma liked hearing his own voice. Downtown on a weekend was crowded as usual, but despite the chattering, babbling passersby, Monoma could spin downtown so it seemed like he was the only person in the world.

Shinso liked hearing Monoma’s voice, even if he could barely follow Monoma’s line of thought. Something about a new fantasy trilogy neither of them actually had time to read, something about a live action adaptation that existed only for face value, something about antiques. Oh, Monoma was pulling him into an antiques shop.

Shinso didn’t like antiques. Everything looked fragile and only served to remind him of how young he was. Like this road sign! So rusty you can barely read the hiragana! And this typewriter! It existed from over a hundred years ago, and yet technology had remained stagnant, frozen mere decades after the typewriter went out of style, because who needed progress when you had power?

Shinso glanced at Monoma. “How’s your manuscript coming along?”

“Hm?”

“For your memoir.” Because only Neito Monoma would start writing his own memoir as a high school student.

Monoma’s blue-gray eyes brightened. “You remembered! I lost it at the summer camp, actually.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Nah, I have a digital backup, I just didn’t have time to work on it with the exam and all.”

“That’s fair.” Shinso rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a sting of envy. “Any ideas on what you’ll add?”

Monoma plopped onto an ornate plush armchair, and Shinso was astonished it didn’t keel over and collapse—not that Monoma was heavy — for a hero student required to train regularly and build up muscle, he was quite slim — but Shinso thought everything in this shop looked brittle and breakable. Monoma gestured for Shinso to take the other armchair, then kicked off his sneakers to prop his feet up on the ottoman. His socks were mismatched, one red and one pale blue. Since the rest of his outfit was put-together with mellow, neutral tones, even for his string bracelets, Shinso thought the splash of mismatched colors was kind of attractive.

As Shinso was deciding whether he could also lean back and put his feet up — the ottoman looked both big enough and too small for two pairs of feet — Monoma said, “I want to write about the exam, especially the second round. Surprising, yeah? Like, you’d think the first round would be more exciting, with action and the threat of failing more imminent because you’d know immediately. But actually, I thought the second round did a better job testing us as prospective heroes. What real-life situation would you have six balls, need to be the third person to hit two different people, and avoid getting hit three times yourself? There were good hero students who just got unlucky because they chose to battle me and my classmates instead of running away.”

There it was. Shinso was wondering when Monoma would hype up himself and the rest of Class 1-B. He smiled bitterly, feeling another twinge of envy. He wanted, so desperately, to be a hero student too.

Monoma fiddled with a centerpiece, bits of fluffy, fake leaves shedding on his fingers. “The second round forces people to work together. The hero commission celebrates Pro Heroes as individuals single-handedly rounding up villains and racking up popularity points, but that’s not real life, is it? And for people like us—”

Shinso stood abruptly, and the rest of the fake plant’s leaf fluff fell apart in Monoma’s hands. “Talk about something besides yourself and your stupid memoir.”

Monoma raised an eyebrow.

Shinso almost clapped a hand over his mouth, mortified. After all, he’d asked Monoma about his manuscript. And he was getting insider info on the provisional license exam.

Monoma’s surprised expression turned into a cocky smile. He got up too, though he left behind his shoes. “All you needed to do was ask, songbird.” He grabbed Shinso’s wrist. “You’ll be amazed at how much stuff is in this shop, it’s almost as big as a house!”

Shinso didn’t bother pointing out that what they’d seen already spanned his family’s apartment. He kicked off his boots — his own socks had smiley faces — and ran after Monoma, both of them skidding over the dusty wooden floor and swerving to avoid crashing into breakables. Shinso laughed, wondering when was the last time outside band practice he’d had this much fun.

Chapter 18: A Normal School Thing

Summary:

Summer draws to an end, and the school festival arc begins! Class 1-B brainstorms ideas for their chaotic play...

Notes:

Balancing Monoma x Shinso, Monoma's individual development, and Class 1-B's group dynamic is fun ^^

“This is a normal school thing!” Class 1-B exclaimed.

Their homeroom teacher Mr. Kan had written “SCHOOL FESTIVAL” on the blackboard, and it was up to the class to decide on their booth. Kendo and Shoda stood at the front, ready to write their classmates’ ideas; Kendo claimed the chalk, and Shoda would be copying everything on a tablet. It seemed like an inefficient process to Monoma, who figured there’d be a smartboard, or at least they could just take a picture of the board when they were done. But the vice class rep needed to look important, and Kendo had claimed the actually-important role.

A hand in the front row shot up, and Kendo gestured to the student. “Awase, what’s your idea for our booth?”

“Get this—a support item workshop.”

From a few rows back, his friend Tsuburaba called out, “We’re in the hero program, Awase, not the support program!”

“No, he has a point,” Kaibara argued. “What are heroes without our support gear?”

Kendo answered, deadpan, “Heroes without support gear.”

Still, she wrote Awase’s idea on the blackboard, and with a sigh, Shoda copied it onto the tablet.

From there, the ideas poured forth. Kamakiri and Tokage proposed a combat tournament (“Too dangerous for non-hero students,” said Mr. Kan), Kuroiro, Komori, and Yanagi suggested a haunted house with fungi and ouija-summoned ghosts (“Too dangerous for everyone.”), Pony and Shishida wanted a petting zoo (“Not feasible.”), Tetsutetsu, Fukidashi, Honenuki, and Bondo wanted a wreck zone where students could go wild and destroy stuff (“Definitely not feasible!”), Kodai and Rin wanted a maid-and-butler café (to which the rest of Class 1-B said, “Respectfully, no.”), and Shiozaki proposed a church service (“Again, respectfully, no.”).

Monoma raised his hand. “How about a play? We can make sure it fits all of our interests and everyone will have a role they want, whether it’s on stage or in the crew.”

Kendo took a picture of the board and then erased it; Shoda sighed as he started a new page on his digital notebook, fully aware of the role he had. Now the blackboard read, “SCHOOL FESTIVAL PLAY.”

Fukidashi’s hands slammed his desk when he stood up. “If we’re doing a play, it has to be one of Shakespeare’s! The bard is legendary!”

Tetsutetsu pumped his fist. “Hell yeah!”

Rin muttered, “If it’s fujoshi material, I’m out.”

Fukidashi threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s Shakespeare.”

“Isn’t he, like, history’s biggest fanfic writer?”

Kodai raised her hand. “I nominate ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ Students love a tragic romance.” Meaning she loved a tragic romance.

Yanagi said, “I dunno, Yui. ‘Hamlet’ is way cooler. There’s even a ghost! And the ending is so tragic.”

“That,” Rin retorted, “is fujoshi material.”

“How would you know?”

Tokage piped up, “I think ‘King Lear’ was Shakespeare’s best-written tragedy; certainly ‘Macbeth’ would be the most fun to adapt. But it’s a school festival, so do we really want to do something depressing?”

Kamakiri suggested, “Then how about a comedy like ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’? I could be Oberon and you can be Titania.”

“And Monoma can be Puck!”

Monoma grinned. “I’d make an excellent Puck.”

With one elbow propped up on his desk and his head resting on his palm, Honenuki said, “I don’t know, guys, I prefer the Harry Potter series.”

Everyone who had voiced support for Shakespeare earlier turned to face Honenuki. Just before Fukidashi could lunge across the classroom and strangle him for such blasphemy, Kaibara said, “Wait, he has a point. Like, Shakespeare was from centuries ago. Harry Potter is way more modern!”

“Harry Potter is also technically from another century,” Komori pointed out in a tactful tone.

Pony argued, “But it’s fantasy, and everyone goes crazy for fantasy!” Meaning she went crazy for fantasy.

Tetsutetsu pumped his fist again. “Hell yeah!”

Shiozaki wrung her hands. “I am uncertain, my classmates. Weren’t those books banned by a foreign country? Should we be adapting a series that was banned?”

Pony stuck out her tongue playfully. “Do you want us to adapt the Bible?”

“It would be a massive but fulfilling undertaking, so long as we remain respectful.”

Yanagi rested a hand over her heart. “I so stan Dumbledore.”

Shishida sniffed. “How can we talk about fantasy without bringing in The Lord of the Rings? Gandalf is the GOAT!”

Yanagi moved her hand to the other side of her chest like she had a second heart. “I so stan Gandalf.”

Pony looked at her with dramatic hurt. “What happened to Dumbledore?”

Fukidashi added, “What happened to Shakespeare?”

Kuroiro murmured, “I actually prefer sci-fi over fantasy.”

Tetsutetsu pumped his fist a third time. “Hell yeah!”

Kamakiri turned around with a scowl. “So which is it?”

Monoma raised his eyebrows. “Ender’s Game? Or more along the lines of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? ”

Honenuki perked up with another idea. “I, Robot.”

“Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics?”

“But as the Three Laws of Heroics!”

“The first law seems moot, you know, with us fighting villains.”

“The second law definitely applies though, ya know, ‘cause of the Hero Commission.”

“But does the first law override it?”

Honenuki smiled.

Mr. Kan put in, “Careful, now. You’ll all eventually be working for the Hero Public Safety Commission, even if indirectly.”

Honenuki gave a mock salute. “We love the HPSC!”

Tetsutetsu cheered with actual sincerity, “Hell yeah!”

Kendo said, “I have no idea what you boys are talking about, but I’ll write these ideas down anyway.”

Pony leaned back in her chair so she was balancing on the back two legs. “Don’t worry, I never know what Monomin is talking about at any given moment.”

Kuroiro sulked. “I was thinking more like Star Trek. You know, like, ‘Lucas, I am your father.’”

The class stared at him. Komori giggled, and Honenuki looked like he wanted to lunge across the classroom and strangle Kuroiro.

Kendo’s mouth twitched in a smile. “I’ll write Star Wars, then. And we’ll definitely have the ‘No, I am your father’ line somewhere.”

“These are all fantastic ideas,” Mr. Kan said, “but how will you incorporate all of them into a cohesive script?”

Monoma grinned. “Leave that to me, Class 1-B.”

Chapter 19: Romeo and Juliet and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Return of the King

Summary:

The school festival begins, saved by Deku, though unbeknownst to Class 1-B, and the curtain rises for Monoma's chaotic magnum opus of a play!

Notes:

This was insanely fun to write! To keep it within one chapter since it's ultimately not the focus of the arc, scenes are abridged or skipped over. And since the play is more about comedic Class 1-B antics and Monoma's creative genius(?) than actual plot or storytelling, it works out. :)

Shinso wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Monoma invited him to watch Class 1-B’s play at the school festival. Technically Monoma had invited the whole school except Class 1-A by broadcasting it on Chitter, the dorm’s secure-if-not-private comms system that Mei Hatsume kept promising to fix but always got distracted by other projects. She was like a mom with too many kids.

Shinso also wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he saw the title of the play: “Romeo and Juliet and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Return of the King.”

“Isn’t that Harry Potter?” one of his classmates remarked.

“I’m pretty sure the first part’s from Shakespeare,” another replied with the haughtiness of someone who didn’t realize they were stating the obvious.

“Then who’s the king?”

Gita Ryoki glanced up at Shinso. “Are you gonna check it out?”

“I want to,” Shinso admitted, a hand on the back of his neck. Apparently Monoma had one of the lead roles, though apparently there were also several lead roles. A play by heroes would certainly be informative!

Gita punched his arm with a smile. “You can take my break too, then, but you’ll owe me.”

Shinso grinned at her. “I’ll be sure to find a candy apple for you, Gi.”

~***~

ACT ONE

Scene: Romeo and his friends are on horseback in the woods. Of course, Class 1-B has neither the budget nor the space (nor the training nor the horses) for actual horseback-riding, so the five boys use broomsticks with stuffed horse heads glued on (glue courtesy of Bondo).

Characters: Romeo Montague (Neito Monoma), Harry Potter (Yosetsu Awase), Ender Wiggins (Sen Kaibara), Alyosha Karamazov (Togaru Kamakiri), Moses (Kosei Tsuburaba)

Harry: It is rather strange to be on a horse after years of being the Gryffindors’ star Quidditch player, chasing after golden snitches while riding a broomstick. Mm, I do want a spot of tea when we return home, cheery mates.

Ender: It’s even stranger to be back on Earth after centuries in outer space fighting a war against hapless aliens while my compatriots and I thought we were playing a video game. Everyone I know is long dead, and the four of you from the future are the only ones I can call “friends,” whatever value that word has.

Alyosha: It symbolizes everything, just like family. My dad may have been a scoundrel, my older brother may have been accused of murdering him, and my other older brother may have been the mastermind who later had a mental breakdown, but they’re still family!

Moses: It would be a crime to covet another family, and such a deed would be so offensive I would break these stone tablets I’m carrying as a gesture of my wrath, which is a fraction of true divine wrath and the punishment that awaits us in Hell. But anyway, enough about us—Romeo, Romeo, how fares thou?

Romeo: Oh, my dear friends, today is a terrible day, for I have been dumped by my lover!

Harry: Oh no! Which one, cheery mate?

Romeo: The one called Rosaline.

Ender: Rosales?

Romeo: No, just Rosaline.

Alyosha: Roselia?

Romeo: I call them all “Rose,” just to be safe.

Moses: Such is the consequence of consecutively dating similar women, like divine retribution. But fear not, Romeo, for you now have the chance to be a hero and summon some good karma! Look yonder, someone needs rescuing!

Scene: A boy with the appearance of a peasant is threatened by an evil dragon!

New characters: Oliver Twist (Nirengeki Shoda), Qin Shi Huang (Hiryu Rin)

Oliver: I’m being threatened by an evil dragon! Someone, save me!

QSH: Mwahaha! Special move—Scale Bullets! Pyu pyu pyu!

Oliver: Ow, ow, ow! Stop—shooting—real—scales!

Romeo: Fear not, lowly peasant, for I am here!

Romeo touches Ender’s and Alyosha’s shoulders and then charges the Imperial Dragon. Blades protrude from his elbows and gyrate at a wicked speed, deflecting the scale bullets. Romeo and the Dragon spar, blade against scale armor. The duel lasts several minutes while a copyrighted action song plays in the background; some audience members go on their phones. Finally, when the song ends, the Dragon lies down.

Oliver: Thank you for rescuing me from the evil Imperial Dragon, my hero! I’m actually a wealthy lord who sometimes cosplays as a peasant for nostalgia’s sake. In return for your heroic deed, I shall introduce you to some members of high society!

Scene: Ladies of high society attend a fancy banquet. Of course, Class 1-B neither has the budget nor the time (nor the culinary skills nor the actual food) for a real banquet, so pictures of fancy food are displayed. The pictures are in black and white.

New characters: Juliet Capulet (Yui Kodai), Rosalind Lang (Setsuna Tokage), Grace Blackthorn (Reiko Yanagi), Calla Tuoleimi (Itsuka Kendo)

Calla: I can’t stand these forced social events. I may be a princess, but I’m a warrior at heart, and I’d rather be riding a broomstick horse in the woods. Ugh, look at the riffraff Lord Twist brought. I bet they were riding broomstick horses in the woods but for some reason would rather be attending this stupid play—I mean banquet.

Grace: They’re gentlemen, are they not? I think they’re rather handsome, like my older brother who isn’t actually related to me by blood but who I think of fondly as a blood relative—spooky, I know.

Rosalind: What the fuck, is that Romeo fucking Montague?! He had the nerve to cheat on me with another Rose! I bet he got our full names mixed up too. And sure, I also cheated on him with a man who later turned out to be a traitor, but still. What the hell is he doing here?

Juliet: I heard he rescued Lord Twist from the Imperial Dragon, making him a potential candidate for the mission I have in mind. We might as well introduce ourselves, ladies.

Grace: But there’s only four of us.

Calla: Don’t be shallow, Blackthorn.

Juliet: Half of us are engaged to other men anyway.

Rosalind: Let’s break their hearts, ladies.

Scene: Oliver gets nervous when the girls approach but pretends that he intended to introduce them all along.

Romeo: Rose!

Rosalind: Hmph.

Alyosha: My lady, displeasure doesn’t suit your fair countenance.

Rosalind: For you, good sir, I’ll allow a slight smile.

Romeo: Ladies, to what do we owe the pleasure?

Rosalind: And my scowl returns.

Juliet: I have a mission for you, gentlemen. Count Paris has been kidnapped by evil forces and must be rescued.

Harry: Not to sound like a dunce—

Ender: —but why don’t you go rescue the count?

Grace: We have other social functions to attend.

Romeo: If I fulfill this mission, Lady Capulet, will I have your hand in marriage?

Juliet: Count Paris is my fiancé.

~***~

ACT TWO is full of adventures and action, with concrete sound effects and impact (courtesy of Manga Fukidashi). Harry turns a vague glue monster’s power against him using Weld. Ender and Alyosha team up against a vague shadow creature called Rashomon and an iconic mushroom simply called Toadstool; despite the synergy between Gyrate and Razor Sharp, Ender and Alyosha succumb to the power of fungi in the dark. Romeo spars valiantly against the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, who is actually one horse-person, though Pony Tsunotori controls four horns; instead of activating Copy, Romeo fights only with an elegant sword. And Moses uses Solid Air to launch his stone tablets at a mighty Beast, the heavy props shattering against poor Jurota Shishida.

Only a hero program can get away with actual physical abuse in their school festival booth, so long as it’s against other hero students. Monoma makes a note to involve Class 1-A next year.

In case the first act wasn’t clear about it, dialogue in the second act reveals that the heroes have no idea what they’re doing. Thus, they must consult a wise priestess named Maria Magdalena, who then directs them to a wise sage. And that’s when the remaining trio — heroic Romeo, crafty Harry, and disproportionately violent Moses — find out that Count Paris is dead.

~***~

ACT THREE

Scene: Romeo, Harry, and Moses enter a crystal-filled (courtesy of Reiko Yanagi) cavern where a wise old sage resides.

New character: Wise Sage (Juzo Honenuki wearing a fake beard)

Sage: …

Others: …

Sage: Line.

Fukidashi: You have one line.

Bondo: “I am…”

Sage: I am Dumbledore!

The sage’s fake beard twitches, and he hastily adjusts it. From backstage, Fukidashi loudly clears his throat.

Sage: I mean Gandalf! I am Gandalf! And Count Paris, who you are looking for, is the Ghost of Azkaban. His spirit will return to haunt the courts of high society.

Harry: Then we must make haste to return there, cherry mates!

Romeo: But before we do, we should have our futures told! We are, after all, in the presence of a wise sage.

Moses: This is blasphemy!

Sage: The desire to know one’s future stems from the hope of salvation. Thus, Young Romeo, I will tell you this—your salvation will come by joining your father, the King of Gondor. He will be your greatest ally, your truest supporter—your path to glory and power.

With that prophecy all but forgotten seconds later, the trio make haste back to the court. Rashomon, Toadstool, and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse wreak havoc outside a magnificent ten-foot-tall castle. In the tradition of setting up the hero’s climactic confrontation, Harry and Moses stay behind to battle the villains. Rosalind, Grace, and Calla join them to help even the odds, though the Four Horsemen are formidable and Rosalind grieves for Alyosha. Calla’s Big Fist almost takes down the whole set.

Scene: Qin Shi Huang’s dragon corpse guards a tower, where Juliet is trapped and forced to watch helplessly as a monstrous villain lunges at Oliver Twist, who is once again cosplaying as a peasant. Romeo leaps to save him a second time.

New character: Count Paris, the Ghost of Azkaban (Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu)

Romeo: I am Romeo Montague, heir to the throne of Gondor! Release my fair Juliet, you fiendish Count Paris, Ghost of Azkaban!

Paris: Romeo, Romeo. You must have heard about your father from Dumble—er, Gandalf. Do you really think your father is the King of Gondor? And that you could possibly be the heir to a mighty kingdom? No! I am your father!

Romeo: No-o-o-o!!!

Romeo falls to his knees in despair.

Chapter 20: Celebrating U.A.

Summary:

With Class 1-B's play concluded, Monoma and Shinso decide to check out the rest of the school festival!

Notes:

"Uranai" means "fortune-telling," and "Kessho" means "crystal." :)

Monoma recorded audience responses on an old-school clipboard but grinned when he saw Shinso outside the Beta Zone that had functioned as Class 1-B’s theater. “You came!”

Shinso rubbed the back of his neck—did he know that made him even hotter? “Yeah, I had some time to kill, so I decided to check out your play.”

“You had almost two hours to kill? Does general studies not have a booth or something?”

“It didn’t make sense.”

“No booth at all? Not even selling takoyaki?”

“Why did Gandalf say your father was the King of Gondor?”

Monoma shrugged. He’d written “Romeo and Juliet and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Return of the King” in a delirious haze after a particularly grueling day of training. And his classmates had barely proofread it, just going along with it because it seemed fun. “Maybe Gandalf is a liar.”

“And why is it called ‘Return of the King’ if the king never showed up?”

Monoma smirked. “I like to think that Romeo is the real King of Gondor.”

“Then why is he in the title twice?”

Monoma shrugged, trying not to show his embarrassment at the dumpster fire that was his writing skills. “Who cares?” He held up his clipboard. “So hey, I’m conducting a survey on which booth U.A. students liked more—the dumpster fire that was Class 1-A’s concert or the theatrical masterpiece that’s Class 1-B’s play. A ten-yen for your thoughts?”

Shinso blinked. “Uh, your play, I guess?”

“Great! You were the tie-breaker. It’s official now—Class 1-B, as always, is superior to Class 1-A!”

“I could say something about the scientific method and bias.”

“You could.”

“But I’d rather enjoy the rest of the school festival.” Shinso’s hand drifted back to his neck. “Was there a specific booth you wanted to check out?”

With you? All of them, thought Monoma, but he played it cool. He grabbed Shinso’s hand. “How much time do we have before your lovely friend Gita Ryoki hunts us down?”

Shinso glanced at their clasped hands. “Half an hour at most?”

“Ooh, songbird, we are on a mission.”

Shinso slowly withdrew his hand. “Now that you mention it, I promised Gita I’d find a candy apple for her.”

“We’ll be sure to find one then. But candy can’t be the first thing we eat!” And Monoma was starving. Being a lead in a play that involved actual battling must have burned as many calories as training for a whole afternoon.

The two boys ran across the field, darting down aisle after aisle to try every different food available: seafood kebab, baby castella with custard filling, taiyaki with caviar stuffing, bao shaped to resemble All Might’s iconic V-for-victory hair.

Shinso stared at the lumpy bao dubiously. “What if they stuffed it with All Might’s hair?”

“How would they even get that?”

“All Might is a teacher at U.A., even if only for the hero program. Teachers shed.”

“Ew. But then, students shed too.”

“Maybe there’s student hair in it.”

“That’s a health hazard, songbird. Now shut up and take one.”

Shinso nibbled the bao. “I’m starting to get full—maybe we should slow down.”

“Okay, let’s find a booth without food—hey, a fortune teller!”

Shinso wrinkled his nose; Monoma wasn’t sure if it was from the bao or the fortune teller. “That’s a scam, you know.”

The business student managing the tent-sheltered booth had a third eye in the middle of her forehead. She said in a soothing voice, “My name is Uranai Kessho, and I would never cheat a fellow student. My Quirk is Crystal Sight—I can see the future with crystal clarity.”

“That sounds like Sir Nighteye.” Monoma had heard that the future-seeing hero had been killed on a mission to save a girl with a powerful Quirk from a yakuza-wannabe; the girl was now under U.A.’s custody. He wondered if Sir Nighteye had foreseen his own death. He hoped Nighteye had at least also seen a bright future for the girl he’d saved.

“Sir Nighteye,” Uranai admitted, “was stronger. You see, activating my Quirk requires a specific condition to be met.”

“Which is?”

Uranai held out a hand, palm up. “A thousand yen in my hand.”

Shinso snorted. “A scam.”

Monoma glanced at him. “She’s still our schoolmate.” He sat across from Uranai and handed over a thousand-yen bill. As soon as the bill was in the girl’s hand, she seemed taller, forcing Monoma to tilt his chin up to meet her gaze. What was the table set-up that accomplished this? Monoma’s knee bounced up and down.

The thousand-yen bill transformed into a crystal shard, like a mirror. Uranai held it up to Monoma’s eye level; she had to lower her eyes to look at it. In her low voice, she asked, “What do you see?”

Monoma, of course, saw himself. Shinso was in the background, his arms crossed, half turned away but watching from the side of his eye. Then, in front of Monoma, both boys in the mirror transformed like the thousand-yen bill. They looked at least five years older, and Shinso was stunningly hot in black leather gear and fishnet sleeves, an armored mask over the bottom half of his face. Monoma looked about the same—as dashingly handsome as always. Aged another five or so years, and both young men wore tuxedos and matching titanium rings. There was a dog, a silver-haired girl — was that Eri, the girl under U.A.’s custody? — the promise of a happy life. And then there was nothing. The mirror cracked.

Monoma screamed—he couldn’t help it. A mirror breaking with your reflection was the most dastardly curse.

Well, at least he didn’t have to see himself get old.

“What did you see?” Uranai asked again.

Monoma turned the question back on her. “What did you see?”

“The mirror shows two futures—mine on the side I’m looking at, and yours on the other side. I have seen my own future at least ten thousand times.”

“And what do you see?”

Uranai’s mouth quirked up in a hard smile. “It is a future, at least.”

“Does the mirror always break?”

Uranai didn’t answer. Monoma spun to face Shinso. “Did you see anything?”

Shinso shook his head and helped him stand up. “Why do you want to know your future so badly anyway?”

Monoma wasn’t sure. Honenuki’s words as the sage from the play rang in his head. The desire to know one’s future stems from the hope of salvation. What was he hoping for exactly?

Monoma smirked. “I like feeling good about myself.” He gave Uranai a second thousand-yen bill for her next client. As he and Shinso started heading to Class 1-C’s booth — a light musical café — Monoma said, “Too bad about the candy apple. What else do you want to get for Ryoki?”

Shinso checked his phone. “Someone on Chitter said they saw a couple people from Class 1-A making candy apples.”

Monoma stuck out his tongue. Of course Class 1-A had to act like heroes. Still, he accompanied Shinso to the makeshift candy apple booth.

A plain-looking boy — he had a stupid-sounding hero name, Monoma remembered, like Deck or whatever — smiled when he saw them. “Shinso, hi!”

Shinso grinned. “Hey, Midoriya.”

“And Monoma,” Midoriya added with a nervous chuckle. “I heard your play was a success.”

Monoma whipped out his survey. “Obviously! More people voted for our play over your silly concert.”

“Wow, um, congrats? Anyway, how can I help you guys?”

Shinso pointed at the candy apple Midoriya had finished making. “Can I buy that? It’s for a friend.”

“Um, this isn’t an official booth, so I can’t sell these—but I’ll make one for you for free!” Midoriya glanced at Monoma with a strained smile. “Do you want one too? For a friend as well?”

Monoma raised his eyebrows. “I’ll have one for myself, thanks.”

Although Midoriya insisted he didn’t need anything in return, they traded for the candy apples with extra All Might bao, and his elated expression surprised Monoma. Sometimes he wished he idolized a specific hero too. It’d make his goal more concrete than an abstract idea of what he wanted to accomplish.

And the candy apple was damn sweet. Monoma closed his eyes with a smile as he and Shinso continued their relaxed stroll. “Mm, you should’ve gotten one for yourself too, songbird.”

“Can I try yours, then?”

“Sure.” Monoma held it up for Shinso to bite into. Small candy pieces and wet apple crumbs dotted his fingers with the satisfying crunch.

Shinso licked his lips. “A bit too sweet.” He grinned and stole another bite. “I like it.”

As Monoma brought the candy apple back to his lips, he thought—wasn’t this like a kiss? Indirect but no less romantic?

Shinso had lied. Instead of having half an hour, he was actually supposed to have returned half an hour before the end of the play. But between the candy apple and Monoma’s flattery that Gita Ryoki should have entered the beauty contest, the general studies student was pacified.

As for the beauty contest itself, Monoma cheered loudly for Kendo, but in the end, an upper year hero student won. And as much as Monoma supported Kendo, he could see how Nejire Hado could captivate U.A. Shimmering light spiraled around her as she flew in the bright, blue sky.

Monoma yearned to Copy her Quirk and replicate that radiance. When he glanced at Shinso, wondering if the other boy was as enthralled by the spectacle, he almost startled. Shinso was looking only at him.

Chapter 21: The Best Gift

Summary:

With the school festival arc complete, here's the holiday special! U.A. is celebrating Christmas in their dorms, and it comes to no one's surprise that Shinso gets invited to Class 1-B's party...

Notes:

Monoma and Shinso's relationship is finally official! After almost a year of teasing, miscommunication, and the occasional date, the lovebirds are officially boyfriends. :)

By Christmas, pretty much the whole school knew about Shinso’s odd friendship with Neito Monoma. It came to no one’s surprise when Monoma invited Shinso to Class 1-B’s Christmas party.

Shinso smiled to himself. All year, he’d wondered if Monoma was making fun of him, and yet he hoped they could be friends—maybe even more. It was only in the joint training session between Classes 1-A and 1-B that Shinso realized his worries had been unfounded. He still didn’t really know what Monoma had been babbling about, but their teamwork showed how much trust Monoma placed on him. And no hero trusts someone they look down on, especially with a fierce competition at stake and an intense rivalry as fuel.

Gita was playing Christmas songs on the guitar for Class 1-C, but she looked up with a mischievous grin when Shinso walked into the common area. “Ooh, you’re going for it?”

“Him,” Shinso corrected. Monoma was a weird creature, but calling him “it” was a bit much.

“I meant the hero students’ party, but go for him too.”

Shinso stuck out his tongue. With a laugh, Gita started playing a romantic Christmas song, and the rest of their classmates shooed him outside.

Snow drifted softly onto Shinso’s hair and leather jacket; he probably should’ve worn a hat. It was already past 9 p.m., but the holiday festivities were just getting started in each dorm. Shinso looked up at Class 1-A’s dorm. Would he be joining Deku’s class in second year? He was friendly with both Deku and Kaminari, and Asui would be a great peer mentor with her leadership and patience.

When he heard their cheers and heavy thuds from a violent-sounding gift exchange, Shinso rubbed the back of his ice-cold neck and made his way to Class 1-B’s dorm.

“Merry Christmas!!” Class 1-B shouted in unison. Bondo and Tsunotori launched confetti poppers, though Bondo’s seemed to have gotten stuck from glue.

“Welcome to Class 1-B’s dorm!” Kendo announced in a deliberate tone—so they were all pretending Shinso hadn’t snuck into Monoma’s room several months ago. She put a Santa hat over his head with flair. The bright purple pompom had a beak like a songbird. 

Now that Shinso noticed, the pompoms on all of Class 1-B’s santa hats were stylized based on their Quirks: Kendo’s was a hand, Bondo’s was obviously a glue tube, Tsunotori had a probably copyrighted My Little Pony. Shiozaki’s was an intricate wreath of vines, Fukidashi had a speech bubble, Kodai used a ruler, and Yanagi — whose favorite holiday was clearly a different one — wore a mini ghost at the end of her witch-like hat. Then there were the other mascot-like pompoms: Tokage had a little lizard, Kuroiro’s was a shadow, Komori’s was a mushroom, Rin had a serpentine dragon that resembled a tapeworm, and Shishida had a cute doggo. The boys seemed to have coordinated: Awase wore a pinky-sized hammer, Kaibara wore a pinky-sized drill, Kamakiri wore a pinky-sized nail, and Tsuburaba’s must have fallen off; he was on all fours searching for it. Honenuki raised a glass of sparkling water when Shinso made eye contact; his “pompom” was a die, because natural disasters often seemed up to chance. Meanwhile Tetsutetsu just had a steel cube. Only Shoda had a normal pompom.

Shinso expected Monoma’s holiday outfit to have the most flair, and yet Monoma was nowhere to be seen. Kendo pressed two mugs of hot chocolate into Shinso’s hands and explained, “His Royal Dramatic Highness is sulking ‘cause he has a pimple.”

“The hell?”

Kendo rolled her eyes. “Go do something about him, yeah?” With her hands now empty, she clapped Shinso’s back. “And don’t stay there too long—Shiozaki’s starting a timer, and once five minutes are up, we expect both of you to be back here.”

Shiozaki clasped her hands together. “Let us remember what we are truly celebrating.”

Tetsutetsu grinned. “No school for two weeks!”

Komori stuffed her face with log cake. “Abhorrent amounts of unhealthy food!”

Honenuki took a sip of his sparkling water. “The subsequent increase in cardiac-related hospitalizations.”

Shoda patted his own belly with a look of concern. “Santa Claus not suffering a heart attack.”

Tsunotori pumped her fists. “The invention of flight-powered reindeer!”

Shiozaki looked at all of them in exasperation. “The time will come when all non-believers will face their reckoning.”

Shinso stood outside Monoma’s door, a little worried about his friend’s mental state with a classmate who denounced all things unholy. Almost too soft for Monoma to hear, he murmured, “Hey.”

“It’ll go away soon!” Monoma hollered back in a singsong voice, probably referring to the pimple Kendo mentioned. What type of skincare did rich people have that they could make a pimple go away within minutes?

Shinso grinned. Too soft for the rest of Class 1-B to hear, he said, “Doesn’t matter to me. Now open the fucking door.”

The door opened without hesitation. For a moment, Shinso felt guilty for using Brainwash on someone close to him. Bitterness also snaked up his spine from all the months Monoma had unwittingly made him feel bad—even if it was Shinso’s own thinking, the general studies attitude casting a shadow over all hero students’ intentions. Then he saw Monoma, and all the bad feelings dissipated.

There was no pimple. Instead, Monoma had the beginnings of a unicorn horn on one side of his forehead. Shinso smiled. “You’d look kind of cute as a unicorn. Now hold this,” Shinso ordered, passing one of the mugs of hot chocolate to him so he could poke the mysterious horn.

“Damn, your hand’s cold,” Monoma remarked, the effects of Brainwash broken from the freezing touch. His metallic blue-gray eyes blinked up at him. “Hey, songbird, you appeared pretty suddenly—did you Brainwash me to let you in?”

“I could use Brainwash to make you do more than that.” Shinso touched the horn and then ran his fingers through Monoma’s soft blond hair. Just as the horn faded and Monoma’s skin became smooth again, Shinso leaned in to kiss him.

Monoma’s lips were warm. Shinso pressed closer, but Monoma stepped back. “I like you a lot, songbird, but no one kisses well when they’re cold.” He raised his mug. “Bottoms up.”

Mortified, Shinso didn’t say anything as he bumped his mug against Monoma’s and then chugged the hot chocolate in a few hearty gulps. It tasted sharply of mint and spice, with a hint of yakult instead of regular milk. He wanted more.

He wanted more. Shinso leaned in for a second attempt of a kiss.

He could hear Kendo’s voice down the hallway. “Go ahead, Shiozaki, they didn’t even close the door!”

Monoma scooped up their mugs and shoved them onto his desk, where they’d probably leave circular stains on the latest draft of his manuscript. With a devilish grin, he grabbed Shinso and pinned him to the wall, dropping kisses along his jaw, beneath his chin, then down his throat.

Shinso closed his eyes and sank, letting Monoma support his weight. He stifled a smile when he heard Shiozaki’s scandalized yelp.

Then Kendo marched into the room and pulled Monoma away by the ear. She pointed at Shinso. “Bring the hat and mugs.”

The hat? Shinso noticed a Santa hat at the end of Monoma’s bed. The “pompom” was an ornate bronze clock face. With a soft smile, Shinso picked up the hat — his fingers brushed over Monoma’s crisp sheets — and both mugs by the handles, and followed Kendo and Monoma to the common area.

Shinso was swallowed up by the chatter surrounding him. He did his best to answer whenever someone asked him a direct question — did he have a hard time sneaking out, what did he think about Komori’s secret recipe for hot chocolate, what was he most looking forward to when joining the hero program — all the while missing how Monoma never expected him to respond. When Shinso spoke, Monoma treated it like a gift.

Kuroiro took the mugs so Komori could refill them; Shinso vaguely wondered what was actually in her secret recipe. Shoda passed around slices of log cake with eggnog sugar cookies and butter tarts. Shinso politely refused—he didn’t want a whole plate, and it was no wonder there were more cardiac-related hospitalizations in the holidays, though he hoped he could steal a couple bites from Monoma’s heapings. He’d be protecting his boyfriend like a true hero.

Shinso blinked. When did he start thinking of Monoma as his boyfriend? As Monoma grinned at him, he couldn’t help but smile back and stand closer.

Shiozaki proclaimed, “The holy plant demands that the two of you must now kiss—only if you both want to, of course. The holy plant shouldn’t put undue pressure on you.”

Shinso glanced up, and yep, he and Monoma were standing under mistletoe. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling warm all over. Monoma’s face was beet-red, the attention seeker surprisingly shy when he was actually the center of attention.

Shinso grabbed Monoma’s hand and pulled him to a more private corner behind the Christmas tree, which was leaning at a perilous angle from the unevenly distributed decorations; Tokage and Kamakiri immediately claimed the spot under the mistletoe. When Shinso cupped Monoma’s face with one hand, Monoma shivered despite the hot chocolate from earlier warming them up. 

Shinso leaned in, melting into the kiss. Monoma tasted sweet from all the holiday treats and drinks. Shinso kissed him deeper, wanting to devour it all.

The tree keeled over, exposing them to the world—or at least their classmates. Tsunotori cheered, and the others applauded them. Monoma pulled away, brushing his fingers through his hair with a triumphant grin, his cheeks flushed.

“I made you a gift,” Monoma said. He held up a crochet songbird eating a candy apple.

“It’s adorable.” When Shinso moved to accept the gift and peck Monoma on the cheek, the pompoms of their Santa hats collided. Shinso grinned. “You’re adorable.”

“I know.” Monoma wrapped an arm around Shinso’s waist and led him back to the middle of the common area, leaving Bondo to glue the tree back in place. “You also have a gift from all of Class 1-B.”

Honenuki’s eyebrows lifted, a silent message of Finally! Tetsutetsu pumped his fists and shouted out loud, “Finally!”

The class flocked together to the end of the hallway, and with a flourish, Monoma opened the door to an empty room. “This will be your room!”

“If you’re assigned to Class 1-B,” Shoda added nervously.

“You can decorate it however you like!” Monoma continued, ignoring his vice-class rep. “We’ll help you move in, of course.” Class 1-B agreed, gushing about everything they’d get up to when Shinso joined their class.

This was the best gift Shinso could receive.

~***~

END OF THE HIGH SCHOOL HEROES ARC

NEXT ARC: Springtime of War

Chapter 22: Rival Schools

Summary:

The new year begins, and with it, a new arc. Two months after the joint training session in the anime and manga, Class 1-B and Shinso participate in a second joint training session—this time, with Shiketsu!

Notes:

The provisional license exam arc in the anime/manga hyped up a potential joint training session with Shiketsu, so it was a bit disappointing it never happened. But hey, now there's more leeway for this fic! Since the Shiketsu students I introduced several chapters ago are based on the Bloodhounds from Bungou Stray Dogs, and I can only imagine those characters in burgundy (not navy, oh well), it results in Shiketsu having an intriguing and unique system for their hero students. :)

When Neito Monoma applied to hero schools last year, he always knew that U.A. was the only one for him. 

In Japan, the two noteworthy schools with hero programs were U.A. — literally “hero,” the letters didn’t stand for anything — and Shiketsu. All other schools were the equivalent of an American public school system; even Ketsubutsu was considered second-tier. The only institution in the whole country that could rival All Might’s alma mater was Shiketsu.

But Shiketsu was stuffy and snobby, and Monoma had enough of that growing up. Yet here he was, entering Shiketsu’s grounds like some sort of divine comedy.

As Mr. Kan led Class 1-B under the archway and through the pristine gardens, Monoma couldn’t help but loosen the tie of his school uniform. Like a proper class rep, Kendo hissed into his ear, “Fix your tie before we get yelled at, idiot.” Immediately after, she whirled on Komori, who was pointing at a log. Before the smaller girl could grow a mushroom and infest Shiketsu’s garden, Kendo exclaimed, “Don’t you dare!”

Monoma heard his favorite voice murmur, “I thought about applying here, actually.”

Hitoshi Shinso was accompanying Class 1-B on their second joint training session—the first had been with Class 1-A a couple months ago, and now they had one with Shiketsu, U.A.’s greatest rival. Like the hero students, Shinso carried a briefcase that contained his hero costume, though the briefcase was labeled “guest” instead of a number. His free hand rubbed the back of his neck.

Monoma placed a hand on Shinso’s back, just above his waist. “What kept you?”

“The uniform.”

Monoma glanced at him and then burst into snickers. He had to admit, though, Shiketsu’s uniform was absolutely fabulous. The first-year cohort greeted U.A. in two neat lines — on the right, Class A wore navy blue hats and elegant jackets with two columns of buttons; on the left, Class B wore a full burgundy garment: hat, army-like uniform, cape and all — along the school’s magnificent foyer. The whole hero program had arrived to greet U.A., from eager first years to resolute third years.

A boy as big as Bondo tipped his navy school cap to them with a mighty grin. “Hey, it’s U.A.! How are ya doin’?”

Next to him, a boy with narrow, almost squinting eyes swatted him. “Show some dignity, Yoarashi.”

On his other side, a doe-eyed girl giggled. “Loosen up, Seiji. This is why you never get any dates, you follow? You gotta loosen up them buttons!”

“Show some dignity, Camie. Also, our school forbids dating,” Seiji harrumphed, his face reddening. “It distracts from our hero training!”

Camie rolled her eyes. “That’s totes why you’re a single pringle, uh huh, not cuz no girl or boy thinks you’re—” She gasped when she saw Monoma, and leaned forward to say to him, “You’re hot. Boy, you can loosen up my buttons!”

Monoma laughed good-naturedly. “I’m flattered but taken.”

Camie glanced between him and Shinso, who wasn’t doing a good job hiding his borderline-jealous staring. “O-h-h-h.” She grinned. “If you ever want a girl to join your fun, hit me up. Or if you ever want a third boy, I can also—”

“Camie,” Seiji cleared his throat, his face now a lovely shade of beets.

Monoma wandered toward the burgundy side of the foyer, hoping to find a familiar face to balance the craziness of the navy class. It took him a second to recognize Tachihara, who was now in uniform. The metalbender had feigned to represent Ketsubutsu during the provisional license exam. Then there was the boy obsessed with his sword “Plum Blossom,” the girl whose Quirk turned people into lolis, and the Todoroki-haired boy with the disappearing act.

Shiketsu was just full of crazies.

~***~

Like the joint training session with Class 1-A back at U.A., the joint training session with Shiketsu comprised five team battles that would each last 20 minutes or until a whole team was captured. Unlike back then, three upper years from Shiketsu had been selected in advance to participate alongside the first years, based on their connections to students in U.A. The first was Camie Utsushimi, who had taken supplementary classes with Bakugo and Todoroki—because of course the only students in U.A. who had failed the second round of the provisional license exam were from Class 1-A. The second was Seiji Shishikura, who apparently had beef with Class 1-A, because of course if someone had issues with anyone in U.A., it’d be with Class 1-A.

Just as Monoma finished making fun of how Utsushimi’s and Shishikura’s “connections” were from Class 1-A, the third upper year was revealed: Ochi Fukuchi, who had almost fought with Neito Monoma from Class 1-B during the exam. Also, surveillance footage from the lobby in the exam hall revealed that Monoma had probably harassed him.

Several of Monoma’s classmates turned to face him. Kendo’s smile was strained as she remarked, “What was that about Class 1-A, buddy?”

The three upper years also balanced out the numbers, since Shinso would be participating in the first, third, and fifth battles. This is what it means to catch up, Monoma thought, casting a concerned glance at his boyfriend—who, incidentally, looked super hot in his hero costume. Although it was all black and emphasized practicality, with more pockets than most teenagers would know what to do with, it still showed style: the sleeves of his jacket ended just past his elbows, showing off fishnet sleeves tucked into fingerless gloves.

Shinso, to his credit, remained stoic, appearing neither worried nor naïvely excited. If he could pull this off, he’d have more stamina than most hero students, Monoma included.

With a faint smile, Monoma tapped his boyfriend’s Artificial Vocal Cords. “Show our rival school how strong you are, songbird.”

Shinso didn’t reply. He just touched Monoma’s hand in response and then walked out of the large waiting room to the battlezone.

While U.A. emphasized a simulation of real-life conditions, Shiketsu took pride in making their advanced facilities actually look like advanced facilities. The eerily shifting maze contraption, with floor-to-ceiling walls too smooth to climb, seemed to have come out of the horror that was The Maze Runner.

Manga Fukidashi raised a gloved hand in a casual greeting that contrasted his spiky speech bubble. He, Rin, Kamakiri, and Shinso rallied around Shiozaki as their leader. On the other side of the maze, four first years idolized second-year Camie Utsushimi. Notably, half of them wore their hero costumes with the navy Shiketsu cap while the other half wore the burgundy military uniform.

As much as Monoma wanted to watch Shinso move in his new hero costume, he focused on how the Shiketsu students navigated through their home turf. He definitely intended to copy what worked well for them. He also noticed interesting differences between Shiketsu’s Classes 1-A and 1-B—besides the uniform and colors. Each Shiketsu student, even the most nervous first years, moved with military-worthy precision. However, the two students from the burgundy class went beyond, plus ultra, weaving in and out with perfect synchrony.

Shiketsu was performing the grandest, highest-stakes experiment with half of an entire generation’s best hero students in Japan.

Of course, Shinso’s Brainwash threw a wrench into their formation. With one navy-capped student captured and Shiozaki having sacrificed herself for her team, the rival schools were evenly matched. There was less than a minute left on the clock.

Camie sashayed forward, flourishing her wrists like a sarcastic gesture of peace. Nothing seemed to change on the monitors, but it was clear she had created a hellish illusion. Fukidashi’s speech bubble became scribbled over from shock, Rin actually screamed, Shinso stumbled backward, and one of Kamakiri’s elbow blades scraped viciously against the maze wall. The abrasion tore the whole blade out.

Monoma winced. That had to have hurt like tearing a nail.

Shiozaki seemed to be praying in her cell. Her martyrdom had spared her from whatever horror Camie had crafted.

“We have to push on!” Kamakiri snarled, picking up his fallen elbow blade with a grimace and passing it toward Shinso. The purple-haired boy began wrapping part of his Capturing Weapon — a scarf modeled after Mr. Aizawa’s — around one end of the blade.

Rin cleared his throat. “Push past this hellscape, my compatriots!”

The scribble across Fukidashi’s speech bubble eased up as he took a shaky step forward. “Go beyond…”

Shinso’s voice rang clearly. “Plus ultra!” He wielded his new weapon as a scarf dart; with a quick flick of his wrist, the blade flew past its usual range, but with pinpoint precision as it hurtled toward Camie.

Camie’s classmates rushed to aid her, but Shinso’s teammates intercepted them.

Camie leapt above the blade, kicked Shinso to the ground in the same motion, and crushed the brittle sword with the heel of her boot. Before Shinso could get up, she planted a foot over his neck. “Silly boy,” she giggled. “Don’t you know, sweetie, your school’s slogan isn’t enough to save you?” She placed a finger on her bottom lip. “My illusion can look different for each person. So I wonder—what do you see?”

Shinso’s eyes widened.

Chapter 23: Joint Training Session

Summary:

The joint training session arc continues! Camie, Yoarashi, and Meatball Guy — the lovable (or not so lovable), familiar characters from Shiketsu — all get a spotlight as they battle students from Class 1-B.

Notes:

To make things a bit interesting, every match is randomly selected right before the battle starts. It gives the teams in the fifth match a bit of an advantage since they get more time to strategize, but not nearly as much of an advantage as in the original setup where all teams are announced at the start. The only matchups the students know for sure will take place are that Shinso will be up against the Shiketsu upper years since they take all the odd-numbered matches. :)

Monoma leaned forward, his eyes glued to the monitor displaying the first battle of the joint training session between U.A. and Shiketsu. With forty seconds left on the clock and Shinso pinned under Camie’s boot, things didn’t look so good for U.A. What’s more, the remaining members of Team U.A. — Shinso, Kamakiri, Fukidashi, and Rin — seemed to be trapped in a frightening illusion created by Shiketsu’s fabulous second year.

<Camie Utsushimi. Hero name—Illus-o-Camie. Quirk—Glamour. This Quirk has been honed so an illusion can appear different to each person even while the essence remains the same. As a result, the user can will opponents to imagine something scary, and everyone gets plunged into a personalized nightmare!>

“No!” Kamakiri roared. “I won’t allow it!” He snatched up his fallen elbow blade, slicing it away from Shinso’s Capturing Weapon with a sharp twist, and drove it toward Camie.

This distracted the upper year enough for Shinso to escape her grip and gather up his carbon-fiber scarf, now about half a foot shorter. Just as he lassoed Camie, a resounding buzz echoed across the labyrinthine battlefield, the corridors seeming to amplify the sound.

Monoma and Tsuburaba exchanged a glance. Although they might be assigned to different teams, Monoma wanted all of U.A. to win against Shiketsu, and he began scheming on how the maze acoustics could be a boon for Tsuburaba’s Solid Air.

<The battle ends in a draw!> an automated voice announced.

Shiozaki approached her teammates repentantly when they were back in the waiting room. “By allowing myself to be captured in an attempt to protect the rest of you, I have left you to the devices of Shiketsu’s terror.”

Fukidashi patted her shoulder. “No one blames you, Shio.”

Rin nodded, though Kamakiri kept glancing at Tokage as though she’d suddenly split apart and vanish. Monoma tapped Shinso’s hand. “What did you see out there, songbird?”

Shinso blinked. He shook his head and nodded at Mr. Kan and Ms. Minpei, the general training instructor at Shiketsu; both teachers would debrief the students together.

Mr. Kan beamed. “I’m proud of your teamwork and readiness to aid each other!”

Ms. Minpei dove straight to the criticisms, pointing a triple-jointed finger at Kamakiri. “You just damaged your ally’s support item on his first of three battles. In the real world, you would’ve handicapped him for the rest of the day’s missions until he can spare time to have his gear repaired.”

Kamakiri bowed his head to Shinso. “Sorry about that, man. I hope you don’t lose later ‘cause of me.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Monoma knew Shinso’s next teammates would take it into consideration and support him—unlike Class 1-A, Class 1-B actually cared about each student, making sure no one got left behind or shafted. Besides Shinso and the Shiketsu upper years set to battle at every odd match, teams were randomly assigned at the start of each battle. This made it harder to come up with a team strategy, though Monoma understood that adaptability and quick thinking were critical in the real world.

After the debrief, the second match was announced. Pony Tsunotori, Kosei Tsuburaba, Sen Kaibara, and Shihai Kuroiro were up against a quartet of Shiketsu first years with navy caps over their hero costumes—among them was Inasa Yoarashi, the laughing giant who, like a good sport, wished U.A. good luck.

His uptight senpai, Seiji Shishikura, elbowed him. “Yoarashi! Those are your opponents—and our rivals! Don’t wish them luck!”

Monoma gave Pony a high five. “You don’t need luck anyway—you’re gonna rock this battle.” With a mischievous grin, he added in a low voice, “And when you kick their butts, make sure you say…”

Kendo appeared behind him. “Stop teaching her bad words, Monoma.”

Pony waved at them with a giggle and skipped toward the arena, the heels of her hero costume like springs. On U.A.’s side of the maze, the team developed a well-rounded strategy around Tsuburaba as their driving force and Kaibara as their advance guard, with Pony and Kuroiro as key support. On the other side, Shiketsu’s “strategy” amounted to Yoarashi assuring his team he got this.

The blare of the horn marked the start of the battle. With a Cheshire-cat-like grin, Kuroiro blended in with the shadows—and with all the maze walls, there was plenty for him to work with. Pony launched two of her horns, with Kaibara balanced on them like they were air-skates. With a deep gust of wind, Tsuburaba propelled Kaibara across the maze.

Despite the breakneck zigzag motion, Kaibara managed to keep his balance, and used Gyrate to break through his opponents’ defenses. His rapidly spinning legs turned the horns into powerful drills. Pony launched two more horns as direct missiles, and Tsuburaba blew a picture frame of Solid Air that smashed through the other team’s shields and makeshift fortress. Within seconds, U.A. knocked out Yoarashi’s three teammates, who cried out, “Yoarashi!”

As if he was supposed to fix all their problems.

“I got this!” Yoarashi assured them—again, as if fixing his classmates’ problems was his job.

He tossed back his fur-trimmed cape, and with a second grandiose gesture, created a mighty gale. The winds lifted above the maze walls and picked up speed, shattering Tsuburaba’s Solid-Air picture frame and becoming a tornado. Kaibara got blown away. All four of Pony’s horns, and even Pony herself, got blown away. Shiroiro, somehow, got blown away, sucked right out from the shadows.

<Inasa Yoarashi. Hero name—Gale Force. Quirk—Whirlwind. He’s basically an airbender on steroids! Unlike airbenders, he consumes voluminous portions of meat; the protein fuels his winds.>

In one fell swoop, Yoarashi captured all four U.A. students. Pony vehemently recited a list of swear words and curses Monoma had taught her throughout the school year—the monitor automatically censored them, but the shocked expressions of everyone in the arena were glorious.

Mr. Kan facepalmed; Ms. Minpei’s eyebrows furrowed, and Kendo twisted Monoma’s ear. On the battlefield, Yoarashi recovered first, letting out a hearty guffaw.

Despite Team Shiketsu’s overwhelming victory this match, Ms. Minpei gave them a stern talking-to for their lack of coordination and over-reliance on one (1) teammate. It was decided that Seiji Shishikura would partake in the third match, and the self-righteous upper year vowed to lead the first years to a proper victory, whatever that meant.

Out on the battlefield, Kendo surveyed her team: Shinso, Komori, Shishida, and Bondo. It was an interesting combination—like, mushrooms and glue, an overgrown doggo and a giant fist, all packaged together with a voice that could control people, the ultimate puppetmaster. Kendo and Komori had also been on the same team in the joint training session against Class 1-A, and it looked like Kendo wanted to repeat their strategy. Meanwhile, Seiji Shishikura seemed to take great pride in bossing his juniors around.

As predicted, when the battle began, Shishida sniffed out their opponents. Komori infected that area with toxic fungi, a wicked grin across her face; she was tiny but deadly.

Seiji used the high collar of his hero costume to cover his nose. In a muffled voice, he commanded his team, “Don’t breathe!”

A rebellious team member retorted, “How are we supposed to not breathe?”

He immediately fainted from inhaling the spores. Monoma got the feeling that the navy cohort of Shiketsu wasn’t particularly adept at teamwork.

Kendo gestured for Shishida to pick up their fallen opponent and bring him to their cage. The rest of Team Shiketsu banded around Seiji, awaiting further orders. It would be tempting for Kendo to focus on taking down Seiji, but she didn’t underestimate Shiketsu. If anything, Team Shiketsu would probably fare better if they didn’t rely on someone trying to be a leader. Team U.A. left the troublesome job of dealing with Seiji to Bondo.

“Ha!” Seiji blurted, running a hand through his purple fringe—weirdly, his gloves only covered three fingers each, like he was pretending to be an archer. “What was your leader thinking? I can tell from one glance that you’re the useless one on the team—quite literally, merely the glue holding your team together! What do they expect you to do, cheer for them? Little boy,” he continued relentlessly, though Bondo towered over everyone on the battlefield, “I’ll turn you into sticky meatballs.” He adjusted his three-fingered gloves. “Let me warn you, this will be messy.”

Bondo nodded sagely. “Yes, it will be messy.”

He didn’t dodge Seiji’s attack.

Monoma had once watched an anime where characters plunged deep, deep, deep underground, and then were forced back all the way up. The descent is easy, as the saying went. And the ascent was torture. The change in pressure caused the characters’ organs to decompress, resulting in a horrific, blobfish-like appearance. The result of Seiji’s Quirk reminded him of that.

<Seiji Shishikura. Hero name—Shishikross. Quirk—Meatball. He can manipulate raw human flesh, which he swears isn’t as creepy as it sounds. He can then use his amputated flesh to engulf his opponents and turn them into disfigured, literal meatballs—which, he swears, isn’t half as creepy as it sounds.>

It was a truly disturbing sight, and Monoma was both repulsed and fascinated. When Seiji used his Quirk against Bondo, the resulting disfigurement burst Bondo’s glue-tube head, spraying glue all over Team Shiketsu’s commander.

Shishida took one for the team by transporting Seiji to the cell; the glue prevented him from being able to partake in combat afterward. From there, the battle devolved into a three-on-three free-for-all. Kendo captured an opponent despite his cactus arms being a bad matchup against her Big Fist; Shinso got captured by an opponent whose Quirk caused his Capturing Weapon to get tangled; Komori knocked out her opponent but the timer ran out before she could finish the capture.

There was a lot to unpack in the debrief, which Mr. Kan and Ms. Minpei treated like a verbal ping-pong game: “Lack of trust—” “Relegated to a glorified carrier pigeon—” “Lack of foresight—” “Didn’t think to use his teammate’s Capturing Weapon—” “Oh, so now it’s okay for Young Shinso’s Capturing Weapon to be soaked in glue before his third battle—” “I didn’t say it would be sustainable, merely a solution to keep more allies in combat—” “Not a numbers game, but one of strategy…”

Finally, the fourth match was announced, and by process of elimination, the fifth as well. Up next would be Yosetsu Awase, Yui Kodai, Reiko Yanagi, and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu. Their opponents were all in the burgundy cohort. Monoma would be more interested in analyzing the burgundy team’s coordination if it weren’t for his own matchup.

Third-year Ochi Fukuchi, who had been silent throughout the battles thus far, now glared at Monoma with unbridled spite.

Chapter 24: A Nefarious Plot

Summary:

The joint training session continues! After the fourth match, Monoma and his team are up against the Shiketsu students encountered in the provisional license exam. Monoma and his teammates formulate a well-thought-out plan to defeat Shiketsu, but making a plan and putting it in action don't always work out...

Notes:

"Renga Kawa" translates to "brick skin," making him the perfect matchup for Tetsutetsu, like Kirishima. :)

Awase, Kodai, and Yanagi strategized a combination attack. Yanagi’s Poltergeist would float some construction debris — fallen nuts and bolts and the like — to their opponents; Awase would dart in to Weld them; and Kodai would then sneak up to gigantify them, effectively trapping them for an easy KO. From there, any of them could transport their unconscious opponent to the cell: either using Poltergeist on the Welded item, or un-Welding or un-gigantifying it to transport their captive directly.

As for Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, he’d do what he did best and charge head-on, both a shield and a wrecking ball.

In the lobby, the final teams were also discussing potential strategies. Monoma could Copy four Quirks now: the first would last 15 minutes, the second 13 minutes, the third 12 minutes, and the fourth 10 minutes. It wasn’t ideal, but he and his team could make the most of it. Monoma gazed at each of his teammates: class vice-rep Nirengeki Shoda, recommended students Setsuna Tokage and Juzo Honenuki, future transfer student Hitoshi Shinso. Yes, he could Copy each of their Quirks and then steal an opponent’s Quirk halfway through the battle.

Or maybe he should snatch up one of the Shiketsu Quirks as soon as possible; the match didn’t need to last the whole 20 minutes—since it’d be Shinso’s third battle in the span of less than two hours, it’d be best to claim their victory ASAP.

Tokage lightly knocked Monoma’s head with her knuckles. “What are you thinking up in that noggin, Phantom Thief?”

Shoda shuddered. “Probably a nefarious plot we won’t like.”

Honenuki sat cross-legged on a table in the corner. “I might like it, ‘cause it probably matches one of the plans I’ve come up with. Same as Tokage, I’d wager. And come on, Shoda, your imagination can’t be that lacking.”

This was certainly an interesting matchup—four of them were solid leaders. And as for their opponents…

“I met each of them at the provisional license exam,” Monoma recalled. “Except for Saigiku Jono, I’ve Copied all of their Quirks too.”

Honenuki elbowed him. “Look at you, making friends in friendly places.”

Shinso frowned. “Most of them are glaring daggers at you, Monoma.”

Monoma chuckled nervously. “That’s how students in Shiketsu show affection.”

Tokage remarked, “The red-haired chick just gave you the finger.”

“Affection, am I right?”

Shoda whimpered. “We are so screwed.”

Honenuki snapped his fingers to grab their attention. “Tell us what you remember about each of them, and based on your information, we can choose the best strategy to start with.”

Monoma leaned forward. “Jono is the sneakiest but most harmless. Disintegrate lets him dissolve himself and reform in a nearby location—which gives him a massive advantage in a maze.”

Tokage’s eyes widened. “Monoma, if you Copy that Quirk and combine it with Honenuki’s and Shinso’s, victory is all but guaranteed. Not-Todoroki won’t know what hit him.”

Honenuki glanced at Monoma; they both remembered Monoma’s disastrous first attempt to use Softening. “It’ll be dangerous,” Honenuki warned.

“Let’s cover our other options,” Shinso suggested.

Monoma continued, “The dark-haired boy is Tetcho Suehiro. I’ll need to Copy his Sword for offensive capability. I can combine it with Michizo Tachihara’s Ferrokinesis for more versatility—Tachihara is the ginger; he got a uniform exception back in the exam.”

“I don’t get why they don’t wear their hero costumes more,” Tokage murmured.

Honenuki explained, “The burgundy cohort is a somewhat-new experiment—the third years are the first to have it implemented. Shiketsu partnered with the Hero Commission and the Japanese Army to train, well, militia heroes.”

“Here I thought it was a big fashion war.”

Shinso tipped his head to the side. “Why not just train them as soldiers?”

“Heroes receive more public support and are better for the economy,” Monoma realized.

“Tell us about the upper year—the Super Hero: Mirror Lion,” Shoda prompted. “After all, he’s only here ‘cause of his connection to none other than Neito Monoma.”

“I’ll need to Copy his Quirk as soon as possible too, preferably right before Sweet Suehiro’s Plum Blossom—that’s both his sword’s name and his hero name.”

“That’s not confusing at all.”

“Once I nab Fukuchi’s Strength Multiplier, my Plum Blossom will be bigger than Plum Blossom’s, er, Plum Blossom.”

Shinso covered his face with an exasperated gesture. Honenuki laughed; Shoda just looked so done with them all. Tokage tossed her long, dark green hair behind her. “And what about the chick?”

“Teruko Okura? Calls herself Teru-chan? Her Quirk, Soul Gasp, lets her turn people to children with a touch.”

“She’s their de-buffer,” Shinso realized. 

Honenuki nodded. “She didn’t make it to the second round of the exam, so we don’t actually know the details of her Quirk. We have to assume that when she activates it, our own Quirk also regresses—in terms of technicality, Monoma would be most affected.”

Monoma frowned. “Would I simply only be able to hold two Quirks, or would I get whatever Quirk I Copied in the past?”

Oddly, the first one that came to mind was Mr. Utagai, his middle school teacher who had doubted him. Now look at him! He was a hero student in one of the country’s best hero schools, participating in a joint training session with another top hero school. He cackled at the triumph.

Shoda looked at him in concern, but Tokage and Honenuki didn’t react—it was business as usual. Shinso wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and rested his chin on the blond boy’s shoulder. “I can handle Okura.”

“Teru-chan.”

“I’m not calling her that. Anyway, if she ‘debuffs’ me, it shouldn’t impair us, since my Quirk probably evolved the least.”

Monoma gave him an affectionate peck. “That’s ‘cause you’re perfect the way you are, songbird.”

On the monitor, the match had dwindled to a one-on-one battle between Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu and Renga Kawa, a boy whose Quirk — cleverly named Brick — hardened his skin to the texture and firmness of, obviously, brick.

Tetsutetsu wailed, “Why does this always happen to me? First Eijiro Kirishima, now Renga Kawa?? Why isn’t Steel unique???”

Steel collided with Brick, and both boys passed out. Ten minutes remained on the clock, but when it was obvious Tetsutetsu and Kawa were out of commission, Mr. Kan called the match so the students weren’t twiddling their thumbs in the cells.

“And we’re up.” Monoma grinned. “Team, let’s take down the Lion.”

“As well as the rest of our opponents,” Shoda added.

In the maze, the team finalized their strategy. Shinso recapped, “Let me get this clear—Honenuki will cripple their team, especially Ferrokinesis; I’m dealing with Soul Gasp; Monoma will Copy Strength Multiplier and Plum Blossom; Tokage will guard him since she’s the most immune to their Quirks; and Shoda will handle Disintegrate ‘cause that’s all we thought up.”

“We’ll back each other up as needed, of course.”

“Right.” Shinso turned toward Monoma. “Which two Quirks will you be Copying here?”

“Twin Impact, obviously—otherwise what’s the point of having a fancy sword with hundredfold power?” Monoma tapped his chin, thinking it through. “Artificial Vocal Cords make Copying Brainwash absolutely pointless, and Softening and I have a messy history.”

Tokage stuck out her tongue, triumphant. “I’ll have a fellow scout!”

Shinso’s fingers twitched as though he’d been about to reach out to Monoma before remembering they had an audience. “Having virtual immunity against opponents you need to get close to is the best play.”

The horn blared, a few seconds before Monoma had expected. His heartbeat spiked up, adrenaline coursing through his veins—an addictive sensation for aspiring heroes. Monoma held out his hands, palms up, for Tokage and Shoda; with the briefest touch, he Copied their Quirks. 

He set his first two stopwatches. One tick encompassed two pumped-up heartbeats—and then, as he activated Lizard Tail Splitter, an infinite echo of heartbeats.

Tokage reported the situation briskly, her mouth hovering next to their teammates as they ran through the maze. “They split up! Mirror Lion will approach from the middle path in three turns, Teru-chan from your left; Plum Blossom and Midwinter Memento are staying together farther behind.”

“Good strategy,” Honenuki acknowledged.

“What about Jono?” Shinso called out.

“I don’t see him.”

“You won’t believe this,” Monoma joked, “but the Disappearing Hero has actually completely disappeared.”

Just as he said it, the Disappearing Hero: Born From Dust appeared in a blinding display of light right in front of him. Dust particles swarmed between his severed body parts. He couldn’t help it—by reflex, he Copied Disintegrate.

Tokage screamed, “Monoma, get away from there!”

But Disintegrate demanded to be activated. Monoma succumbed to the pull of dispersed particles.

 

Chapter 25: U.A. vs. Shiketsu

Summary:

The epic battle between Monoma's and Fukuchi's teams continues! Having accidentally Copied Disintegrate and foiling his own plan, Monoma is forced to adapt—but will he be able to wield Jono's unique Quirk? And what scheme does Fukuchi's second-in-command have in mind?

Notes:

Initially the second half was going to have 12 chapters, like the anime structure of 13 episodes in the first cour and 12 in the second. But then it got too long so I split it into two chapters—extra chapter yay! Monoma and Shinso both get POVs here, and their story will extend past the anime at the end of the final chapter. :)

<Saigiku Jono. Hero name—Disappearing Hero: Born From Dust. Quirk—Disintegrate. The user dissolves an infinite number of particles, which can phase through any material! Reforming takes a deep understanding of oneself.>

Neito Monoma existed in a state of nothingness, of void. He was dust, he was nothing—and he was everything, all at once. When he thought of it, Disintegrate turned him to a bunch of particles that could disperse, meaning there was more Monoma than ever. He could drive Class 1-A crazy!

Kendo would have a hernia.

Now, how to re-materialize? Jono had warned that it was a difficult endeavor, but Monoma took on the challenge every time he Copied an unfamiliar Quirk. He learned fast, he adapted, and he knew how to make the most of his new plaything. That was how he’d gotten into U.A.; it was how he’d flourished—until now. He couldn’t very well imagine putting every last particle back in place till he reformed Neito Monoma. Besides having always hated puzzles, Monoma had only the crudest understanding of human anatomy—even his own, and his body was the most magnificent of all.

In this disembodied state, he couldn’t properly see or hear anything in his surroundings—just a bunch of blurry shapes and distorted yelling. How was the rest of his team faring? He’d botched the plan; after Copying Disintegrate, he only had room for one more Quirk until the match was more than halfway done. Tokage would kill him.

If he hadn’t just killed himself, turning into a bunch of particles with no way of returning to normal.

Twelve minutes. That was how long the third Copied Quirk lasted. If it boiled down to it, Monoma could simply hover in this state of nothingness until the Quirk faded and he returned to normal. Surely that was how the Quirk worked, right? Or would he be stuck like this forever?

~***~

Hitoshi Shinso’s heart almost rocketed up his throat. Monoma had just… disappeared. Camie’s illusion poked at the edges of his mind, but Shinso tamped it down. He couldn’t afford to get distracted or freeze up. Jono hadn’t reappeared either; maybe he and Monoma were battling in another area of the maze.

It’d be more plausible if it weren’t for the light particles floating where Monoma had been a moment ago.

The whistle of swinging metal alerted Shinso, who leapt back in time to dodge the arc of an elegant sword. Plum Blossom, Monoma had called it.

<Tetcho Suehiro. Hero name—Sword Hero: Plum Blossom. Quirk—Sword. The user can make a sword appear from any part of his body! Any. Part.>

“For someone who’s allegedly almost a year behind the rest of his cohort,” Suehiro remarked, crimson eyeshadow and dark mascara making his eyes pop, “your reflexes aren’t half-bad.”

Then swords popped out of his eyes, lancing toward Shinso. Two of Tokage’s severed parts flew to catch the blades, giving Shinso an extra second to maneuver his Capturing Weapon. The bladed scarf coiled around both Plum Blossoms, and with a sharp yank, Shinso snapped the swords in two.

Suehiro screamed. He’d sheathed his swords on reflex, but the jagged edges had cut the skin around his eyes. Blood mixed with makeup to create a visceral spectacle.

“Tokage!” Honenuki called out. “I’m going ahead!”

“On it, Honenuki!” Tokage responded to Honenuki’s unspoken request. Her mouth and one of her eyes scouted ahead while the rest of her remained to support Shinso and Shoda.

Where was Shoda?

Shinso whirled around in time to see a cackling Teruko Okura drag away a shriveled old man vaguely resembling a pale potato.

“Shit, is that Shoda?” Shinso blurted.

Tokage’s remaining eye widened. If her mouth were still with them, Shinso suspected she’d exclaim, “Is that Teru-chan?”

<Teruko Okura. Hero name—Teru-chan. Quirk—Soul Gasp. With a touch, the user can change anyone’s age, with lower and upper limits confined to their human existence. While U.A. has seen this Quirk make lolis and shotas, she can also turn people into withered husks!>

Shinso started toward them, but Suehiro stopped him, pinning him from behind with a sword-turned arm.

~***~

Monoma refused to not exist. He’d continue gracing the world with his amazing, beautiful presence. He wanted to keep training with Class 1-B, Shinso, and even these aggravating Shiketsu High students. He needed to show his parents, Mr. Utagai, and everyone who had ever doubted him that he could be a hero too.

Can you? a voice taunted. How can someone like you be a hero?

That wasn’t his voice. For all the resentment and envy he harbored, Monoma had never doubted his own abilities. His hero journey would be more difficult than those born with flashy Quirks, and maybe he’d always be relying on others, but if those others were his friends, was that really so bad? Class 1-B had cultivated an environment of collaboration and teamwork; they valued each other’s strengths and built on them to go beyond what any of them could accomplish on their own. Monoma had never doubted any of them, including himself.

Found you. Monoma willed his particles to swarm Jono.

How to go back? Monoma didn’t need to know a damn thing about anatomy or puzzles or any of that bullshit Jono had fabricated or implied to dissuade him from Copying Disintegrate. He just needed to know himself.

“You’re a thief,” Jono choked out, stuck in the cell. “You stole my Quirk and used it against me.”

From the other side, Monoma winked. “And you’re a liar—but then, aren’t all heroes?”

~***~

Shinso pushed Suehiro away from him, not caring that it resulted in an agonizing gash across his chest. For something with such a sweet name, Plum Blossom was not nice. Shinso wondered if that was the point. Everyone knew a weapon with a name like The Destroyer could inflict damage, but no one expected destruction from a flower. Despite the pain, he smiled. While “songbird” was just for Monoma, Shinso had an inkling of what he wanted his hero name to be.

Tokage regenerated new body parts to take on Suehiro, her old ones left behind. “Keep going!” she shouted.

Shinso understood. With only the Sword Hero here, Brainwash would be useless. Well, Shinso got the feeling that Suehiro might still fall for it anyway, but his ability was better used elsewhere. Besides, Tokage could handle Suehiro easily on her own; like Buggy from One Piece, she was impervious to Plum Blossom’s desperate strikes. She laughed almost as maniacally as Monoma.

Monoma. Shinso wanted to find him. But he’d seen the light particles float toward his team’s cell, meaning Monoma was capturing Jono, and again, Shinso’s ability was better used elsewhere—where everyone would gather. Remembering his earlier rounds of running around Shiketsu’s stupid maze, Shinso could now charge directly to the enemy’s cell.

Summoning Fukuchi’s mighty roar using his Artificial Vocal Cords, Shiketsu bellowed, “Are you just gonna stand there?!”

Tachihara’s feeble voice retorted, “I don’t know where you went, Mirror Lion, but get me out of here!”

Found you. Shinso made eye contact with Honenuki, who released Softening. Like a good boy, Tachihara began walking through the maze toward U.A.’s cell. Honenuki followed from behind to make sure he didn’t break free from Brainwash.

Okura, who had just locked up Old Man Shoda, exclaimed, “Tachihara, you fucking idiot!”

Light particles appeared next to Shinso, and the particles formed Monoma, in all his glorious beauty. He took off his suit jacket to wrap around Shinso’s bloody torso. “You’ll catch a cold, songbird, and—oh my god, Shoda, what did she do to you?”

Shoda actually sagged.

Monoma raised an eyebrow. “Back in the provisional license exam, the effects of Soul Gasp only lasted a few seconds. Were you holding back on us, Teru-chan?”

Okura’s petite frame barely contained her fury. “I’ve trained hard since that failure.”

Without another word, she lunged at them. Shinso threw the end of his Capturing Weapon, but she dodged and swept a leg under his feet, knocking him to the ground. Before she could subdue Monoma, she gasped.

Shinso’s mouth dropped in horror. While he wasn’t attracted to girls, he could tell that Okura was very pretty. All that beauty faded as Okura aged 60, 70, 80 years. Monoma nodded at Shinso, who carefully bound her with his Capturing Weapon and began to drag her through the maze. While she no longer had the strength to fight him, her voice somehow became shriller.

“How dare you whippersnappers treat your elders this way?! My bones ache! My feet hurt!” She bumped into a wall. “I can’t see shit!”

“Please,” Shinso grunted, “shut up.”

“What was that?! I can’t hear shit either!”

Shinso finally reached the cell, where Jono, Suehiro, and Tachihara had already been captured. Just before Shinso could introduce them to Grandma Teru, Okura grew—well, more like... de-aged. She stopped her own de-aging in her prime, looking every bit the fierce military hero the Hero Commission must have wanted. Shinso was too shocked to react. Hadn’t Shoda’s own old age lasted a lot longer?

Okura gave him a serpentine grin. “Surprised my old age was that brief, little birdie? It looks like Monoma also grew a lot since last summer.” She slammed him to the ground.

Shinso knew she was stronger than him—she’d had more training, and now she was in her prime physical state. But he’d also trained, and there should’ve been more resistance. Shinso looked at his hands, which had become soft and plump. A child’s hands.

Okura’s captured teammates squirmed. Shinso suspected that on one hand, they wanted to cheer on their triumphant teammate. But seeing her capture a little kid probably wasn’t good for morale.

Shinso flailed, but as a child, he was no match against an adult Teruko Okura. In mere minutes, he was stuck in the cage with Grandpa Shoda, who remarked in a hoarse voice, “You’re not old.”

“How are you still old?” Shinso retorted. He glanced up at Okura, whose long cherry-red hair had come loose from its ponytail. After experiencing old age herself, had she felt sorry for her opponent? She’d waited for Monoma to bind Shinso’s wound earlier too.

Monoma had vanished once again. Okura whispered, “Fukuchi,” and ran back into the maze.

 

Chapter 26: Neito Monoma: Rising

Summary:

The joint training session comes to a conclusion! Months later, Pro Heroes and hero students prepare for a final confrontation against the villains that will change hero society as they know it...

Notes:

Thanks for making it all the way to the end of this fic! Between rewriting the final exam arc and balancing other stuff in my life, this is probably the longest I've taken to write a complete story—spanning from the beginning of the year, or from May if you don't count that early draft. Funny enough, it was actually another writing project that spurred me to finish this story, cuz NaNoWriMo "has to" start in November and there's no way I'd work on two major works at the same time. Basically the last two arcs (10 chapters wow!) were written all in less than a month hehe. :)

Monoma found Fukuchi in a hidden area of the maze, which contained a cornucopia of weapons like candy. Unaware of his opponent’s presence, the third year marveled, “One of Shiketsu’s seven wonders—the secret stash of training weapons. Even most upper years are unable to find it.” He picked up a battle ax and admired the weight of it, the momentum as he swung it and demolished one of the walls. “Teru-chan will like this one.”

Monoma winced. Teruko had gotten to him a hair of a moment before he could Copy Soul Gasp. He always knew which Quirks he had, and he knew she had de-aged him to precisely the moment before he had failed the final exam, which felt like eons ago. His whole body ached with the imminent feeling of being crushed, but nothing was broken yet. If she’d held back by even a few seconds, he wouldn’t be able to fight.

Monoma wielded Soul Gasp and Softening, and he had room for one more Quirk.

As if alerted by the thought of his Quirk getting Copied against his will, Mirror Lion slowly turned to glare at Monoma. He snarled, “Phantom Thief.”

Monoma loosened his blue polka dot tie with a strained smile, his forehead plastered in sweat. Good thing he’d taken off his suit jacket earlier; everything felt too hot, too tight, his body anticipating getting crushed. “You’re telling me that Shiketsu students who train here regularly can’t find this little corner but I strolled here in less than 20 minutes? I really am the superior one!”

With a roar, Fukuchi activated Strength Multiplier and swung the gigantic battle ax.

Monoma exhaled. He concentrated Softening into two precise points beneath his feet, feeling himself sink about an inch. For a brief moment, the ax seemed to move in slow motion.

The moment passed, and he released Softening, forcing the ground to abruptly return to normal—well, it now had two lumps where his feet had been.

Monoma sprung up, barely managing to clear the ax’s path. He ran along the enlarged weapon, ducking to evade flying debris from where the ax smashed into a wall.

Fukuchi dropped the weapon to grab Monoma, who twisted to grip his arm. Strength surged through him as he snatched up the ax and drove it into the ground, activating Softening in tight rings encircling his opponent. Exhaustion swamped him, and with the last of his strength, he thrust the end of the ax’s handle against Fukuchi’s skull.

Stumbling away, Monoma turned around to see Fukuchi trapped the same way he had been, many months ago. He may have de-aged to that moment, but he retained the control and precision he’d honed since then.

The timer ran out and the horn blared just as Honenuki, Tokage, and Okura arrived at the hidden area. Monoma’s team won, securing victory to U.A. in this joint training session!

~***~

MONTHS LATER

U.A., Shiketsu, Ketsubutsu, and many other hero schools across Japan had formed a coalition to take a final stand against the League of Villains. Monoma could hardly believe that the ragtag group of thugs who had disrupted the summer training camp now instigated a full-blown war. Unlike the paranormal liberation front, all hero students were now expected on the frontlines—and thanks to Copy, Monoma had a special role this time.

He recognized many of the students from the provisional license exam and the joint training session. Shiketsu’s military cohort was in a separate area. Apparently they had a more discreet mission assigned by the Hero Commission; with the former president having been assassinated, Monoma wondered if this would be the military cohort’s last mission. What plans would the future Hero Commission have for all of them?

Jono waved. “Hey, Phantom Thief!”

Okura smiled, no hard feelings. Soul Gasp had lasted an hour — as it turned out, Shinso was absolutely adorable as a kid — and Monoma wondered how long the effects would plague her opponents now. 

Tachihara looked grumpy about the Hero Commission’s demands, while Suehiro seemed to be coping by eating an abomination of a snack: wasabi smeared on an unpeeled lime wrapped in a lettuce leaf and stuffed down his throat without chewing. Jono followed Monoma’s gaze and explained, “He likes similarly-colored food combinations.”

“To each their own, I guess.”

“Monoma,” a deep voice said.

Monoma groaned inwardly, bracing himself for retaliation over the joint training session. “To what do I owe the, uh, pleasure, Mirror Lion?”

Fukuchi stayed still for several moments. Monoma tried not to gulp. Finally, the older boy extended a hand. “No hard feelings, Neito Monoma.”

“Huh?”

Fukuchi’s dark eyes were calm, hiding no grudge or hidden agenda. “We’re aspiring to be heroes. We have the same goal, don’t we?”

Monoma thought bitterly about how hard he’d worked to prove himself. Mirror Lion, Shiketsu’s golden boy, looked like he’d never needed to prove to others that he could be a hero too. “Somehow, I doubt it.”

Fukuchi didn’t take the bait. “I want a peaceful world.”

“Nope, we don’t have the same goal at all.”

“Why do you want to be a hero, then?”

Monoma grinned. “Because I can.”

Fukuchi waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, the older boy huffed and withdrew his hand. “Still better than the corrupt forces Stain fought against, I suppose.”

“Hey, that’s a really low bar.” Monoma’s scar had long faded, but his stomach clenched from the phantom pain.

Teru-chan laughed, and Suehiro mumbled something incomprehensible around all the green food; he’d moved on to seaweed, pickle juice, and avocado, a marginally more reasonable combination—if he’d removed the skin and pit. Jono translated, “Why aren’t you Copying any of our Quirks?” He nodded. “Your strategy for our match was pretty solid, if you’d been able to actually implement it. Strength Multiplier, Plum Blossom, and Ferrokinesis are a deadly combo.”

“I have better Quirks to Copy, lovelies.”

Teru-chan rolled her eyes. Tachihara drawled, “Sure you do.”

Fukuchi’s eyes narrowed; he must have deduced U.A.’s plan. “Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

Monoma retorted, “Every risk is necessary to be the best hero possible.”

~***~

Monoma passed by the area where civilians were lodging. It looked like an overseas refugee camp. He walked more briskly, but he couldn’t escape their yelling. Some cheered for him; others demanded why any of this was happening in the first place. Monoma looked up, finding his parents in the crowd. Alfred gave him a pained look, trying to calm them. 

His parents hollered, “Is this what you want?”

“Young Monoma,” an irritatingly familiar voice murmured.

The crowd surged. “All Might!” “Tell us everything will be all right!” “Why are you sending students to fight again?” “Why can’t you fight anymore?!” “We want our Symbol of Peace back!”

Monoma tried to sneak away, but All Might grabbed his hand and raised it in front of the crowd, mimicking his trademark gesture of victory. Despite the retired hero’s emaciated frame, his voice projected. “This is the new Symbol of Peace! Every student in U.A., everyone aiming to be a hero or to support heroes in any way possible, every youth in this rising generation—they are our future, and thus our Symbol of Peace!”

Monoma stared at the teacher who had failed him all those months ago. Hero society revered this former #1 Pro Hero, and for the first time, Monoma felt that All Might was his hero too.

The crowd wasn’t satisfied, though. They swarmed All Might, now also asking for autographs and interviews, and Monoma took the opportunity to escape. He’d return, of course, but for now, there was only one person he wanted to be with.

Shinso waited for him on the rooftop, looking darkly radiant in his hero costume, mere minutes before sunrise. Before Monoma could compliment him, Shinso grabbed him and pulled him close for a kiss.

Monoma’s surprise faded to pleasure. He buried one hand in Shinso’s thick, feather-soft hair, while his other hand pressed Shinso’s back, bringing him even closer, seeking warmth in the early morning chill and the suspense of what awaited by the end of the day. When they eventually pulled away, Shinso’s dark eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Monoma smiled. “Hey, songbird. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Wait.” Shinso’s voice was hoarse and angry. “Don’t say that. Don’t just accept getting close to an enemy to Copy their Quirk. Don’t keep taking all the risks.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m a hero. I was born with this Quirk—and goddamn, I’m good at using it. I’ll take all the risks I want, and you’ll back me, and we’ll keep fighting together.” Monoma had a strange feeling, that this was a conversation they’d repeat for years to come.

“Do you remember,” Shinso said hesitantly, “my first match in the joint training session against Shiketsu?”

Monoma mainly remembered the last one, when Shinso had ended up a cute little kid. He reached out to ruffle his boyfriend’s messy purple hair.

Shinso took Monoma’s hand. “Camie Utsushimi’s illusion showed each of us what we were most afraid of. Rin saw an apocalypse. Fukidashi became mute. Kamakiri couldn’t find Tokage.” With his free hand, Shinso cupped Monoma’s face, his touch so gentle it hurt. “And I saw you charge headfirst at a villain who—who killed you.”

Unease gripped Monoma. First Stain, now this hypothetical villain. He hated thinking about his mortality. “Well, what did they look like? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Shinso sounded exasperated. “Monoma.”

“They looked like me? Oh, that’ll be hard to run away from; they’ll be too beautiful to not get close—”

“Promise me,” Shinso interrupted, “you’ll be careful. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

Fukuchi had given him the same warning earlier. Monoma’s heart softened. “Do you remember our date at the school festival?”

Shinso blinked. “That was a date?”

“Back then, I—wait, what do you mean, ‘that was a date?’ Why wouldn’t it be a date?!”

“Were we dating back then?”

“You literally ditched your booth to hang out—hey, don’t change the subject! Anyway, remember that fortune teller?”

“The scammer. She ripped off two thousand yen from you.”

“I gave her that money out of charity and school solidarity! Anyway, do you remember what I saw?”

“Of course not. You were the one who saw it.”

Monoma suddenly felt shy about sharing the details. He looped an arm around Shinso’s waist, and they both watched the sun rise. “We have a long, happy life ahead of us.”

“We do?”

“Well, I don’t know for certain, but this isn’t the end for us. We’ll both become Pro Heroes. We’ll get to watch Eri grow up. Maybe we’ll retire together, or maybe I’ll die a delightfully violent death. According to Teru-chan, old age is overrated anyway.” Monoma kissed Shinso’s cheek. “But it won’t be anytime soon. With a Quirk like mine, I may only be a side character, but I won’t get killed off this early in my hero career! We’re society’s future; we’re the new Symbol of Peace.”

Shinso stared at him. “You make no sense sometimes.”

It sounded better when All Might said it. Monoma laughed. After another kiss, he sashayed back down. Even if he wasn’t the main character, he still had an important role to play.

~***~

THEME SONG: “Uzumaku” by Omoinotake