Outside U.A High School, 3:58 PM

April 5th, 2149.

I left the school gates, tired but satisfied and still wearing the gym clothing from our last class.

Unsurprisingly enough, most of the other students had been able to keep up easily, with a few exceptions. Rikido, Mezo, Mina, and Mashirao had been the front runners in most of the exercises, with a large section of the class falling just behind them.

I was content with my own showing; my continued Muay Thai practice had gifted me the endurance to complete the gauntlet of exercises they had put us through in the upper middle of the pack. I'd be focusing more of my efforts on conditioning in the future—I wanted to excel here, after all.

The platform was packed with students, and a non-trivial number of adults, either parents or family members of the students, meeting them halfway. I followed them into the train, content to stand in the aisle.

My mind was drifting towards the investigation as it tended to do in quiet moments when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I'd seen them at the last moment, having lost most of my focus on the environment in my thoughts.

"Eijiro," I said in greeting, turning to face the boy.

"Hey man," Eijiro said, grinning, "Thought it was you. Your posture gave it away."

I just nodded in understanding. Body posture was one of the many identifiers that allowed a person to distinguish someone they knew from a distance with barely any other information—an interesting facet of the human mind.

"I thought your hair color was naturally red," I said curiously, close enough now to see that the roots of his eyebrows were black. "Why do you dye it?"

Eijiro laughed awkwardly for a moment, scratching the back of his neck.

"You ever hear of the hero Crimson Riot?" Eijiro said, smiling.

"I have," I admitted, "I am not very familiar with him other than his name and color scheme—I am aware that red is his primary color."

Eijiro just nodded easily.

"He was a big inspiration to me growing up," Eijiro said breezily, clenching his fist, "I wanted to reinvent myself, be more like him, this was something I could do straight away—now I just kind of like it."

I could understand what he meant. It wasn't unusual for people to want to emulate those they respected or looked up to. I'd done it to some extent with Uncle-Sajin, not physically as Eijiro had done, but mentally. I'd taken all of the teachings the man had offered and tried to bake them into myself.

"Looks a bit silly, huh?" Eijiro said, self-depreciatingly.

"I think it looks nice," I said, smiling. "Were you aware that there is a salon in Tokyo that does permanent hair color changes? It works via a woman's quirk, some kind of biokinetic change to the body."

Ejiro looked interested.

"Thanks, man! That's awesome—I used to go to Tokyo all the time actually, never heard of the place though." Eijiro grinned. "That's like an hour and a half by train—we could make a trip out of it, say on the weekend—you wanna come with me?"

I blinked at the sudden unexpected offer.

It was unusual for someone to ask me to do something outside of school. I could remember two times time it had happened after Nanami had vanished. Both times had ended poorly, although the second time hadn't been avoidable in the first place.

I had no reason to go to Tokyo personally, but refusing him directly would be rude. It did, however, give me an idea on how to slip a more reasonable trip past Hayami and Sajin without doing it in secret. If I could lead Eijiro into organizing some kind of social gathering in Shimoda or Suzaki, either would allow me the chance to break off from the group for a couple of hours.

Presenting it as a social trip and in the framework of developing a friendship with some of my classmates should be enough to pass it by Hayami. As long as I kept the narrative as it being Eijiro's idea, which would be helped along by establishing a trend of these kinds of spontaneous trips.

"You look so focused right now," Eijiro said bemused, "You alright there?"

"I will accompany you to Tokyo," I said, nodding, "You should see if anyone else in our class would like to come as well."

"Yeah! I'll ask around," Eijiro cheered, "Ashido might be down—she's always talking about Tokyo—I'll send her a message. What's your number?"

I recited it for him from memory and watched as he dropped it into his contacts list before shooting off a message, and his own phone vibrated in his pocket in response.

"Can you think of anyone you want me to invite in particular?" Eijiro said, tapping away at his phone.

The more people that attended, the less likely I would be to have to speak for extended periods, and it would dilute the attention focused on me as well.

"Do you have Tsuyu's number?" I asked calmly, "I think she would appreciate the invitation."

"Nah, haven't spoken to her much yet," Eijiro admitted, "Ashido probably has it though, I'll ask—and done—whereabouts do you live?"

"Musutafu, it's more or less the next stop," I admitted. "Where are you from?"

"Oh, that's convenient," Eijiro blinked, "I'm from Chiba, but I moved into Hamamatsu, so I didn't have to take a three-hour train every day—the damn place is huge."

I didn't mention that I had done something similar.

"You must have lived quite close to Tokyo then," I said thoughtfully, "Do you know it well?"

"Yeah, we went on family trips there all the time," Eijiro grinned, "I'll show you all the cool spots, don't worry!"

Why would I be worried about that? How strange.

Having a guide in an unfamiliar location would be an advantage and likely save them a lot of time. Eijiro checked his phone once a notification came through and nodded before tapping away for a moment.

My phone buzzed in my pocket again.

"She sent me Asui's number, I messaged it to you." Eijiro said easily, "Ashido wants to come—she's going to ask some of the others as well."

I marveled at his sheer ability to just outright talk to people with no subterfuge, strategy, or deception. It probably helped that Ashido and Eijiro apparently had a history, but he'd even approached me, without any reason. The ease by which he was capable of socializing with those he barely even knew was something else entirely.

Hisoka's Apartment, Musutafu, 6:45 PM

April 5th, 2149.

Sajin frowned before shaking his head.

"There were a few moments like that at Shinketsu," Sajin admitted, before adding a caveat, "Not on the level of destroying entire buildings, or exploding classmates though. A single punch did all that?"

I nodded calmly.

"It didn't even connect with anything. The wind pressure alone was strong enough to destroy at least seven floors and deflect most of the explosion." I detailed, "His arm was bruised and bleeding afterward."

"That's an obscene level of strength," Sajin mumbled, "If he had hit the other kid, what do you think would have happened?"

"He'd be dead," I said simply, "He didn't appear to have any kind of durability enhancement that would allow him to survive something that could pierce straight through seven levels of concrete and keep on going."

Sajin shook his head again.

"All Might was there, though?" Sajin sighed, "He would have stepped in if it had gotten too ugly."

"There is something wrong with All Might as well," I said, following the flow of the conversation.

"Wrong, how?" Sajin blinked. "Is he a bad teacher or something?"

"No, he gives good explanations and his instructions are clear," I offered, "I was observing the hallway outside of our classroom, a man, stick thin, spiky yellow hair, and a very sunken face approached, just before he entered our classroom, he transformed into All Might."

Sajin stared at me with obvious confusion, so I moved to explain.

"At first, I thought it was an actor, simply playing the role of All Might while he was off performing another task of a higher priority," I said, frowning.

"Called away to deal with something else?" Sajin narrowed his eyes, "I could see that happening. That's not the end of the story, though, is it?"

I nodded.

"Today, the same man I had assumed to be the actor was in charge of our training," I continued, "When things got heated, he eventually had to go to the scene to check on the condition of Izuku and Katsuki—he's not a fake, he moved fast enough to cover several hundred meters in seconds."

Sajin interlaced his fingers in front of his mustache and closed his eyes.

"After we were finished with his class, and everybody had left the surveillance room," I frowned, "He turned back into the thin form—once you have seen both, you can notice plenty of similarities between their features even with the drastic change in body weight."

"What's your conclusion?" Sajin prompted.

"All Might is sick, or under the effects of a quirk that cannot be removed," I stated easily, "It strains him to hold himself in his usual state, and after some unknown period of time, he enters the weakened state."

Sajin nodded.

"Given that he has chosen to teach at U.A and pulled back on heroics to do so," Sajin said thoughtfully, "I wonder if he is retiring?"

"He might be dying," I added hesitantly, "Perhaps he wants to pass his knowledge onto the next generation before he goes?"

"Does he really look that sick?" Sajin said seriously. "Sick enough you'd think that?"

"Yeah," I said simply. "The extreme difference in body weight between the two forms is startling."

Sajin sighed.

"I don't even know how to parse something like this," Sajin said honestly, "People have been talking about him retiring for years, though, despite what he looks like, he's getting on in age—you can't be young forever."

While it wasn't exactly confirmed how old All Might was, best estimates put him somewhere in the range of late forties to early fifties, there had been articles over the years talking about when the man would retire—but he'd never addressed any of them, and he looked so healthy that it was easy to forget that he wasn't immortal.

"What kind of backlash do you think would come from his retirement," I asked, leaving the subject of him dying alone.

"Good question," Sajin mumbled, "Without thinking very deeply, the first thing that comes to mind is a surge of crime—most well-known hero in the world drops out of the competition, villains would come crawling out of the woodwork, emboldened by his absence."

"Are there currently any threats that the other heroes in the top ten listings couldn't deal with?" I asked curiously.

Sajin closed his eyes again in thought.

"There's a couple of dangerous ones that come to mind that are still running around uncaught," Sajin said eventually, "Chimera could probably give a few of the top ten a run for their money, Muscular has been sighted recently as well. Stain has been developing a reputation—Nobody knows how strong he is, but there's no doubt that he's dangerous."

I'd heard of Chimera before, there was a massive incident a year ago, and the monster of a man had ended up decimating several teams of the local heroes, the police, and all of the buildings in the area. He hadn't been seen since, but he was definitely one to look out for.

There was probably an entire host of criminals who had chosen to stay under the radar to avoid All Mights gaze.

"This is most likely considered classified information at this point," Sajin warned, "Keep it to yourself. If word gets out that he's not on top of his game right now, some of those with old grudges will take a shot at him."

I hadn't even considered telling anyone other than Sajin—The information was simply too volatile.

"I understand," I said evenly.

Train, Musutafu, 7:00 AM

April 6th, 2149.

I watched through the back of my neck as Tsuyu approached me, turning once she had stopped and nodded in greeting.

"Hisoka," Tsuyu croaked without greeting, swaying with the motion of the train. "Did you ask for my phone number from Ashido?"

I tilted my head—That wasn't quite how it had happened. Her demeanor was off as well, I'd apparently stumbled into a social landmine, It was time for damage control.

"I suppose I did, although if you want the exact sequence of events—Eijiro asked if I wanted to invite anyone on a weekend trip to Tokyo. I suggested that you might like to go. Ashido passed your number to him, and then he sent it to me via a text message," I explained the situation evenly, "I wasn't expecting him to ask for it at all, I intended to talk to you today to see if you would be interested in coming along—I apologize if it made you feel uncomfortable."

Tsuyu stared at me for a few long moments before making a rumble of understanding.

"Ashido teased me about it," Tsuyu stated, "Can you tell me more about this trip?"

He explained the reason the trip had even been suggested in the first place and why Kirishima had decided they were going.

"I've heard of it," Tsuyu admitted, "I wasn't aware that his hair wasn't naturally that color. I thought it might be from his quirk."

I nodded in understanding, the train curved around a corner, and I glanced down the length of it. It curved sickeningly away before the back end caught up with it.

"Why did you tell Midoriya to ask me about my quirk?" Tsuyu said suddenly.

I sensed a slight accusation in the question, despite her attempt at concealing it, another landmine going off beneath me.

"He asked a question about it during class, and I suggested that he ask you in person for more information rather than us speculating about a facet neither of us knew the answer to," I explained easily, "I assumed that you would be willing to talk to him about it. You entertained my own questions after all."

I studied her face, but she was working hard to keep it empty of expression—she was also, however, doing her best to read him back, that much was easy to tell.

"The boy that you told me about, who was picked on by the other students," Tsuyu said slowly, watching him. "What did you think of him?"

It finally clicked— I'd been looking at it from the wrong direction—she thought this was some kind of attempt to bully her. From my perspective, with the benefit of having my motives and reasoning on hand, it made little sense, but if I modeled it from her perspective, it fit together almost perfectly.

If I were to look at it from her perspective, with the very few interactions we had with each other. I'd asked about her vocal tic. I'd asked a number of personal questions, perhaps quite rudely. Midoriya and I had 'spoken about her behind her back,' and I had 'sent' Midoriya to talk to her about an uncomfortable subject afterward. I'd then 'asked' for her phone number through somebody else instead of asking her directly.

"I thought he looked quite lonely," I said honestly.

Tsuyu frowned, and I realized I had better move to clear the air.

"Tsuyu, I think I've given you the wrong impression," I said seriously. "I'm not trying to pick on you."

Tsuyu croaked as I dragged the real subject of our conversation into the light.

"What are you trying to do then?" Tsuyu said directly.

"I was attempting to befriend you," I admitted.

Tsuyu studied me for a long moment.

"Why me in particular?" Tsuyu said, voice perfectly level.

"Because," I said quietly. "You also looked lonely."

U.A High School, 7:15 AM

April 6th, 2149.

The two of them left the train behind following the students towards the school, everyone seemed wary of the crowd that seemed to have formed outside of the gates. A thick segmented door seemed to have slid out to cover the entrance, blocking anyone from entering.

"Reporters?" Tsuyu said curiously, "Did something happen?"

I sent out several tiny sand orbs to take their place above the school, searching the area for anything—Shota was standing on the other side of the gate, arms crossed and looking distinctly annoyed, along with several of the masked guards that usually kept the entrance secure.

The reporters noticed the students from the platform approaching and were quick to descend upon them. A deluge of questions was recited, and one reporter locked eyes with me.

"What is it like to have the symbol of peace teaching you?" The woman said quickly as she stuffed her microphone near my mouth.

Tsuyu croaked warily from behind.

"All Might is a professional," I said evenly, "He has an abundance of knowledge and decades of experience in the field. There would be few who could boast such a successful career, we are very lucky to have such a qualified teacher."

The woman's eyes lit up at the answer, nodding quickly and pulling the microphone back.

"What is All Might like in the classroom?" The woman said more pleasantly, now that he hadn't made to escape the questions.

"He is as boisterous as he usually is. If you are asking more about his teaching methods, he offers very detailed explanations and encourages us to ask many questions in the classroom," I said honestly, "Please keep in mind that we haven't been here for an entire week yet. I apologize, but we only have time for one more question as the class will be starting soon."

The woman smiled.

"Fantastic," The reporter said cheerfully, "I see he's had quite the impression on the newest students already! Is he your favorite instructor?"

"I do not yet have a favorite instructor," I said evenly, "But I am sure All Might will at the top of the list."

I bowed to the reporter and stepped around her, and she made no move to interfere with my progress. I approached the gate, watching through the back of my head as Tsuyu followed. The gate rose quickly with a crack, and after they had passed through, it closed again. Shota watched them as they passed by, looking like he'd had about zero hours of sleep.

"That's the last of my class," Shota said under his breath before addressing one of the guards. "You guys handle it from here."

"Yes, sir!" One replied, turning back to face the gate.

"Come," Shota sighed, "Damn reporters, what a nuisance."

They followed him to the classroom silently to find the rest of their class already seated and waiting for them.

I took my seat, still watching the reporters through the sand orbs calling to the guards from behind the gate. They seemed pretty intent on getting some more interviews. All Might teaching was one of the biggest stories in recent memory, so I could understand why they were so pushy. The job practically required it.

"Good work yesterday," Shota said dryly, "I've been looking over the evaluations for the battle training you underwent, and you all performed quite well—A few incidents aside, you're untrained, so it's to be expected in any event."

The events in question were most likely the reckless destruction of several buildings and the injuries that Midoriya had received.

"Bakugo," Shota said suddenly, and the boy sat up straight at the tone. "You're not a child anymore, grow up. Abandoning the mission parameters during a training simulation for petty schoolyard revenge is a complete waste of your talents and potential. That's not something I'll let slide, got it?"

"Got it," Bakugo said seriously, gritting his teeth.

"I hate repeating myself," Shota muttered darkly. "Midoriya. You ended up destroying your arm again, that's twice now, even discounting your finger the other day. You better learn to control your quirk soon—because just lashing out in desperation when you're cornered is going to get you killed."

Midoriya swallowed audibly.

"You have the potential to be a good hero, but only if you overcome this," Shota said seriously, "You better start working harder."

"Yes, sir!" Izuku squeaked.

Shota flipped over a piece of paper on his desk and ruffled the back of his hair for a moment.

"Now onto homeroom business," Shota sighed, "Sorry for the sudden announcement, but today you'll be picking a class president to handle all of the interpersonal and less important issues that crop up."

"Wow!" Mina called, "I was expecting something more heroey!"

"That's not a real word, Ashido," Tsuyu said curiously.

"Sure it is!" Mina cried. "I want to be the leader!"

I watched the room descend into anarchy as everyone asserted their desire to become the class president. I'd never seen something like this before, perhaps a result of coming from a rather lackluster public school.

Most of the students hadn't been interested in this kind of thing. Rather they had wanted to spend their time messing around and playing games. There had been a few who wanted the role, but a lot of the time, they'd been teased or picked on by the others for it.

Seeing so many people trying for the role was interesting but not truly surprising. This was a class filled with students who had managed to make it into one of the best schools in the world. It made sense that they were assertive, driven, and ambitious. Besides, being able to say that you were a class president in U.A would absolutely look good on a resume when they tried to apply for a hero agency.

"Leading a class of heroes in training is a heavy responsibility," Tenya suddenly cried out, standing up at his desk. "But ambition does not equate to ability!"

The rest of the class quietened down at the words, and Tenya cleared his throat.

"This sacred office demands the trust of its constituents!" Tenya said solemnly, "If this is to be a democracy, then I put forward this motion; Our true leader must be chosen by election!"

"This isn't congress, dude!" Denki said, alarmed, "It's just a classroom!"

"Ida, we haven't had sufficient time to get to know each other," Tsuyu pointed out, "How would we be able to make an informed decision when it comes time to vote?"

"Yeah!" Eijiro cried, adding his own point to the pile. "Everyone is just going to vote for themselves anyway!"

Ida smirked for a moment, fixing his glasses on his nose, and they flashed with a dangerous light.

"Precisely why anyone who does manage to convince multiple people to vote for them—" Ida said smugly, "Will be the best-suited individual for the job! Teacher! Will you allow this?"

"Whatever," Shota said carelessly, leaning back on his chair with his eyes closed. "Just do it quickly. We do have other things to do today, you know?"

Tenya was quick to organize them—everyone was prompted to write their name on the board before returning to their seats. They wrote down who they wanted to vote for and passed the notes to the front of the room.

"I will tally the votes," Tenya said solemnly, flipping the first note to face the class. "Izuku Midoriya!"

"Me?" Izuku said, shocked.

"Him!?" Bakugo cried out, "Who the hell voted for Deku?"

"Obviously not you," Hanta said, bemused.

Ochako looked away from the angry boy, looking embarrassed. The votes continued to be read out one by one, and each vote tallied next to the names on the board. The last vote was called out, identifiable as his own by the handwriting.

"Tenya Ida!" Tenya said shakily, holding it up in triumph. "I got a vote!"

I was honestly surprised that nobody else had voted for the boy. He was clearly one of the best examples of leadership in the class—in seconds, Tenya had pulled them all in line and offered up a sensible method to decide on who would get the role. I was even more surprised that my name was up on the board with two votes next to it.

"Did you vote for yourself?" Denki snickered.

"Of course not!" Tenya said, flustered.

"The president is Midoriya," Shota said declared without care, "Two people with two votes each, Yaoyorozu, Higawara, decide amongst yourselves who is the vice president."

"I do not wish to be the vice president," I said immediately. "I would like to withdraw my name from the running."

That seemed to draw much more attention than I expected.

"What?" Tenya said, alarmed, "Why would you drop out?"

"Hisoka," Momo said, frowning. "If you are dropping out because of the statues—"

"I'm not," I said easily. "I never had any intention of taking on this role, my time is better spent elsewhere."

There were several quiet mutters at the explanation, and I couldn't help but notice the narrowed-eyed look I was receiving from Katsuki.

"Higawara has withdrawn," Shota said loudly, "Yaoyorozu is the vice president. Finally, now it's time to move on."

Cafeteria, U.A High School, 12:07 PM

April 6th, 2149.

The cafeteria was massive, and somehow it still came off as crowded given just how many people were inside during lunchtime. I ate unhurriedly but with a great deal of nausea, unappreciative of being in a group of so many people. I tried to take my mind off the sheer number of people by observing the individual details instead.

Students of all shapes and sizes—bright and bizarre hairstyles in every direction along with faces filled with features that were wholly unusual. One boy I could see had two tomoe on his forehead, one black and one white, no eyebrows or visible hair on his body. Another was wearing a metal headcover shaped like a knight's mask. His face was entirely shrouded in shadow, with twin white circles for eyes.

I spent most of the break there in silence, eating quietly, when an alarm suddenly activated, the shrill sound washing over the room in an instant.

"Security level 3 has been broken." A female voice said calmly, "All students, please evacuate to the field by the wall in an orderly fashion while the situation is dealt with."

The alarm hadn't stopped, and students were already started to push past each other towards the hallway, and within seconds the situation had turned in a panicked rush. I stayed at my table, not willing to move into the flood of panicked bodies.

I noticed a girl a few tables away try and enter the stream and vanish beneath her classmates as she fell.

I generated a stream of sand and sent it snaking across the floor. I caught her around the waist and created a wave of sand around her, pushing the nearest people away before pulling her out and placing her on the table by the door.

Something had started growing on my sand where it had come into contact with her, and it took a few moments for me to understand exactly what I was seeing—it was mushrooms of all things—I let the sand dissolve, and the fungi fell to the table around her.

Most of the cafeteria had been emptied by now, but there was still a large group of students trying to push their way past the bodies and into the hallway. I waited calmly behind them, sending more sand between their legs and helping those who had fallen get back to their feet.

I spotted Tenya, under the effects of Ochako's quirk spinning through the air directing himself with his own quirk before he landed on top of the exit sign on the other end of the massive hallway.

"Everyone!" Tenya cried out, easily audible over the noise of the crowd. "Everything is fine! The press that was at the gate this morning has most likely triggered the alarm as they entered the premises. There's nothing to panic about!"

Ida drew in a deep breath and continued as the crowd started to slow down a bit.

"We are the students of the illustrious U.A!" Tenya cried out passionately, "We must behave in a way that is befitting this great institution! We must comport ourselves professionally! Calm yourselves and proceed carefully!"

There was a level of vindication at seeing the candidate I had voted for performing so well under pressure. I watched the crowd start to move much more slowly through the hallway, and once again, the flood of bodies started to leave the building.

The girl with the mushroom quirk vanished into the group, and I followed behind them, wary of being near so many people.

I stood with the rest of 1-A in the classroom after the announcement had been made that the threat was gone. I hadn't been idle, however—Sand eyes were posted around the school now, observing it from above, and the real cause of the alarm was immediately obvious once he had spotted it.

The massive metal security gate that had kept out the reporters that very morning was ruined. A massive hole in the middle of it was simply gone. No burn marks, no bends or breaks surrounding it. No damage to the concrete below or the walls besides.

It was like the middle had been suddenly turned to dust, the piles of which littered the ground beneath it. They would have heard an impact of that level had it been accomplished by force, needing at least something on the level of what Katsuki and Midoriya had been using against each other.

The police had the reporters cordoned off outside of the front gate, performing their own investigation into what had happened. There were multiple students leaving the school as well, heading past the cordon, ushed past by the police.

A short blonde girl was headed towards the platform—not the first student to leave, there had been plenty of those, picked up by concerned parents or alone—but this one was definitely the most unusual.

I watched her from above as she skipped along the path, playing games with the lines on the concrete pathway—she balanced on one of the lines with her arms out to the sides, looking like she was trying hard to not to fall off, before failing and giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world.

I kept her in sight until she reached the platform and hopped on one of the trains, vanishing into the city.