Grounds, U.A High School, 8:02 AM

April 4th, 2149.

“The first part of the test, the fifty-meter dash.” Shota said calmly, “Form up, two lines—you’ll be going in pairs.”

I followed the rest of my classmates towards the area he indicated—a series of while painted lines marked out the confines of the race. I surreptitiously started sending grains of sand towards the finish line—the test was much the same as the obstacle course had been in a way. The first in each line stepped up to the starting place.

Tenya Ida and Tsuyu Asui readied themselves, and Shota spoke up once more.

“I expect you to use your quirks and to give the best of your abilities here,” Shota said seriously, “I’ll make you do it again if I’m not satisfied—got it? Good. Start when you hear the horn.”

There was both a portable sign, off to the side of the track, with three lights and a flared circle on top of it, reminiscent of a speaker. The lights flickered down, the horn blared, and Lida burst forward from his place, skidding to a stop at the end of the track barely seconds later.

Tsuyu likewise pushed off the ground at an angle, leaping forward at an excessive speed, and covering the vast majority of the distance with a single leap, and a smaller one got her over the line, a second or so behind. Tenya was fast, I realized, very fast—and Tsuyu’s ability to cover distances with a single jump was impressive as well.

I tried to imagine how they would both fair inside the cluttered roads of a city—Tsuyu, if she could use the terrain to maneuver, would have ample footholds; light posts, buildings, rooftops, and more. Tenya would most likely excel in chases or straight lines—if he could perceive the world at the same speed he moved, he might even be fast enough to move up the sides of buildings.

Tenya seemed to be happily praising Tsuyu’s impressive time, and I would admit that the boy came across as both charming and well mannered—likely a result of his private school education at ‘Somei.’

Strangely enough, Saijin had been the one to suggest a private school for me, but Hayami had shut that down completely. I had professed my own desire to attend the same school as Nanami, and that had been enough to sway her completely—it hadn’t been intentional on my part, but it had been a piece of the puzzle towards understanding how she saw things.

Shota commented, careless on their times, before prompting the next two—Mashirao Ojiro and Ochako Uraraka— to take their places. I let the thread of thought drop and focused on studying my classmates.

Mashirao had possession of a thick, muscular appendage that had the fundamental characteristic of a tail, albeit of a type I had never seen before. It seemed to be fully maneuverable and capable of a high degree of flexibility. Ochako showed no physical manifestations of her own quirk, but she did lean down and deliberately touch both of her shoes and then her clothing, no doubt bestowing some unknown quirk effect with her touch.

The race started, and Mashirao immediately took the lead, using his thick tail to propel him faster than he could have run with his less muscular legs. Ochako simply ran, fast enough to make a decent time—whatever effect her quirk had, it was a minor one in this test.

The third pair was the most interesting so far; Mina Ashido, the girl with pastel pink skin, black sclera, yellow horns, and a mop of matching pink hair, was fast—but in a purely athletic way.

Yuga Aoyama, on the other hand, started the race facing the wrong direction entirely.

The blonde boy leaped into the air, and a bright surge of light shot out of his stomach in a line of energy, propelling him backward. He landed back first on the ground, rolling just enough that he was unharmed, before standing up and doing it all over again—the mid-way crash sapped his time, though, and he finished just after Mina had.

Whatever that surge of light had been, it had enough power to send him about thirty meters—that had some force to it.

“Interesting use of a quirk,” Shota admitted quietly, “Next pair.”

Denki Kaminari, and Eijiro Kirishima, both sprinted from one end to the other, completely unaided by quirks but showing a high level of athleticism. Eijiro was grinning proudly at the other end as they received their respective times, and Denki accepted the loss with a laugh, not at all bothered.

Koji Koda and Rikido Sato followed the pair; Koji ran the race without the use of his quirk as well, but Rikido downed something from one of his pockets and then crossed the finish line much quicker, although his running style left small indents in the track—compressed by the power of his downward footfalls—Either whatever he consumed before the race made him heavier, or it made him stronger.

Mezo Shoji and Kyoka Jiro were next in line—Mezo outstripped Kyoka within seconds, his impressive height and baseline physique far exceeding that of the slender girl who was another of the ones who ran it apparently unaided.

Hanta Sero and Fumikage Tokoyami both ran it without quirks as well—I hadn’t missed that a lot of the quirks didn’t really contribute to this test, whether that’s because their strengths lie elsewhere entirely, or they simply weren’t creative enough, I couldn’t tell.

Shoto Todoroki and Toru Hagakure stepped up after them. I had a feeling that Toru would be one of those who would struggle most in these tests; invisibility had a vast number of uses, but increasing your baseline physical stats was not one of them, and all of the tests incorporated that to some extent.

Shota Aizawa was an experienced teacher—there was no way he didn’t know this already, and the test would absolutely have been built around the fundamental fact that not everyone had a quirk that was useful for every situation.

Was it created this way to enhance that same level of motivation as the threat of being expelled had? Or was it an explicit lesson, designed to teach them that regardless of what your quirk actually was, you would eventually run into a situation where it was next to useless? Just another facet of the puzzle that would push them even further, to go beyond their limits—given the school’s well-known motto, it certainly seemed to fit.

The race went about how I thought it would.

Toru ran it manually, her passive invisibility conveying no benefit here, and Shoto zipped across the ground on a generated pathway of ice, leaving her far behind him—The same method he had used to come second in the recommendation exam race with the group that had been unlucky enough to have been put against him.

I’d noticed that the boy with the powerful wind quirk was strangely absent, despite having won that particular obstacle race—he must have been in one of the other classes, given his overall strength. I would have to keep an eye out for him.

Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya stepped up to the line—the former giving the latter an anger-filled stare—obviously, some bad blood existed between the two; perhaps they had a prior relationship before coming to U.A, or they might have come to a disagreement upon arriving here.

Katsuki had already revealed his quirk in the demonstration, some kind of ability to generate explosions, the mechanism of how it occurred was still a mystery. Izuku was another boy who had no visual markers that indicated his quirk, or if he did, it wasn’t visible right now.

Katsuki started the race with his hands behind his back and shot straight into the air, as the force of twin explosions emanating from his hands sent him rocketing forward. Before his momentum could bring him back to the ground, he let off another blast, keeping him afloat, and with a series of rapid repetitions, he passed over the finish line.

It was one of the fastest times yet, second only to Tenya.

Izuku’s quirk remained a mystery, as he simply ran the distance, but he had to contend with the wind and force of Katsukis explosions, washing back over him and costing him even more time.

Katsuki wandered off, with his hands jammed in his pockets, looking pleased with himself, but Izuku just looked panicked. Nobody said anything about the interference, and Izuku didn’t even speak up in protest—something that I found quite strange unless he had also realized that Shota’s threat of expulsion was a ruse—given his expression that didn’t seem likely.

People were complicated.

I found myself suddenly at the front of the line, and I stepped up to the start. Yaoyorozu Momo appeared beside me, having recreated the same scooter she had used in the Recommendation exam—Her quirk was most likely the single most versatile one here.

Somehow able to create complex objects, a lot of which I didn’t even understand their design at all, at least not enough to be able to tell another person how they functioned in the first place. Momo must have an extensive knowledge of how engines performed to be able to create one.

It spoke very highly to her intelligence, her ability to memorize, and her skilled application of visualizing complicated objects. It gave me further ideas for my own training; recreating intricate internal designs with my own sand should help further my attention to detail.

“Sorry, Momo,” I said apologetically, deciding to preempt the potential fallout. “I’m going to cheat again; I hope you don’t mind.”

“You didn’t cheat in the recommendation examination,” Momo said quietly, watching the lights. “I was just worried I was going to fail, so I reacted poorly. Do your best okay?”

I nodded calmly, noticing that she had said that she was worried she was going to fail back then but hadn’t said anything about being worried now—she had most likely discovered Shota’s lie.

“You too,” I said evenly.

The light changed, the speakers let out their starting crack, and I stepped over the finish line, reforming throughout the step. Momo came tearing across the track a few seconds later, the lack of quick acceleration taking a few seconds off her time. There was a bunch of loud comments about the outcome, but I was too busy studying Momo’s face as she removed her helmet.

She was smiling, so I nodded and made my way back to the group.

The second test was very straight forward—simply take one of the grip testing devices, and compress the handle, the amount of force would be shown on the embedded screen and recorded.

More evidence towards my motivational theory; Toru’s invisibility wouldn’t help her here, Tenya’s leg based speed quirk wouldn’t either. I didn’t think Ojiro could get his ludicrously strong tail into the handle either; it was far too thick.

This was essentially a free pass for those who had enhanced physical strength, Mezo, Rikido, and Kirishima all scored highly. Momo once again showed the versatility of her quirk and her ability to problem solve by creating a vice grip and manage to lock it around the handle. I wrapped the handle in the sand and compressed it, watching as the screen ticked upwards and stopped it on exactly one-hundred kilograms.

Shota’s bored expression hadn’t vanished yet, seemingly waiting it all out.

The third test was simply a standing long jump—the entire thing was filled with sand already, so I hadn’t even needed to move my own to the end of it to reform.

Ochako showcased her quirk for the first time here—apparently able to make herself weightless because she kicked off the starting line and floated all the way to the end before clapping her hands together as if in prayer and dropping to the ground, smiling happily.

Katsuki repeated his explosive gliding technique, Yuga used his navel laser to cross about half of the pit, Tenya made an impressive distance with the use of his speed, almost matched by Rikido’s own strength enhanced jump.

Tsuyu managed to almost cross the entire pit in a single jump, only falling a few feet short of the end. Shoto once again solved the problem with his ice generation, sliding up and over the pit before depositing himself at the end.

I couldn’t help but noticed that Izuku was looking more and more worried as the tests were completed—Toru likewise was talking to Mina with a nervous tone as it became clear that she was moving lower on the scoreboard with every test.

Mina’s quirk hadn’t made an appearance either, but the girl had a level of athletism that was far above most of the other students, with a few exceptions, so she had still managed to bypass most of the others whose quirk didn’t lead to any obvious advantages.

The next test was a return of the pitching distance, and Katsuki was surprisingly outshined by Ochako, who made her ball weightless. It simply carried on until it disappeared from sight, and Shota, in an unusual display of humor, had changed the monitor to show an infinity symbol.

The atmosphere changed when it came to Izuku Midoriya’s turn, and Shota broke his uninterested demeanor for the first time when he interfered. He showcased his own quirk as his hair lifted up into the air, and his eyes glowed red, a displeased expression on his face.

“What were you just about to do?” Shota said sternly.

“I-I tried to use my quirk,” Izuku said worriedly. “But it didn’t work..”

“He’s the hero Eraser Head!” Mina called out in surprise. “He can nullify people’s quirks just by looking at them.”

“What?” Toru said nervously, crossing her arms across her chest. “Eraser? I’ve never heard of him.”

“I saw how you performed in the exam, Midoriya.” Shota said sternly, “You destroyed your own limbs in the process of trying to use your quirk. You think it’s perfectly fine to just up and hurt yourself now? Incapacitate yourself again? Do you think someone will step in and heal you? You’d be completely useless for the rest of the exam.”

“I-it’s not like that,” Izuku said, shamefaced as he stared at the ground.

“If you’d done that, we would have had to stop the exam,” Shota said seriously, “Everyone around you would have been inconvenienced—I’ve seen others like you before, Midoriya, with that same hot-blooded streak that leads to completely reckless behavior.”

Why do this in front of everyone? If he felt this strongly about it, he probably should have talked to Izuku in private first. Shota was using it as a lesson for everyone—the sight was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t necessarily wrong.

“You’re the same,” Shota said, staring down at the boy with wide eyes, “But you’re useless after saving a single person; how do you think you could become a hero with that power of yours? Get it under control.”

Shota turned away from the short boy, striding back towards his previous location.

“You’ve got your quirk back; give it another go,” Shota said indifferently, “The consequences are on you now—let’s get this over with.”

What a way to cap off the lecture—Shota had created a situation that demanded that you try your hardest and gave everything to succeed, and then the second one of them had apparently done so—at the expense of his own health; the man had stepped in. Shota Aizawa was a harsh man, but he clearly cared about his student’s health, if nothing else.

Izuku stared at the ball in his hand for a long time, and I wondered what exactly he was thinking.

The mental trap that Shota had just pulled was no joke; he was stuck between the pressure of an impossible situation and a stern warning to do the opposite of the one thing that would allow him to pass.

Yuga Aoyama spoke up suddenly to one of the others.

“Are you worried about him?” Yuga said, smiling, “You shouldn’t be; I’m not worried at all.”

The words seemed callous in a vacuum, but there was a note of something in the flamboyant boy’s tone that suggested differently—Almost like some kind of admiration for the green-haired boy.

How interesting.

“Oh?” Tenya said curiously, “Why is he receiving such personal instruction?”

“An instruction to leave the school,” Katsuki said, annoyed. “Just throw the ball already, you damn extra.”

Izuku’s eyes flickered over to the blonde boy for a moment before he took a deep breath and set his stance. He concentrated for a moment longer before stepping forward and throwing the ball in a telegraphed overhand.

The instant before it left his hand, there was a crack, and a wave of force washed over the group. I watched as the ball vanished into the distance, mind turning over the situation.

Izuku Midoriya had a strength-enhancing quirk of some kind, perfectly tailored for this physical-based exam, more so than just about anybody else here—and yet he hadn’t used it a single time before now.

Shota had even stopped him from using it as well, the implication being that he might have hurt himself in the process—and judging by the state of his rapidly swelling finger, he still had.

A strength-enhancing quirk that hurt the user, that was somewhat unusual.

From what I had read, almost all quirks came with an inbuilt method to stop them from harming the user too badly-but not entirely. Stronger bones, or strengthened muscle fibers in the area where the force was most used, immunity to cold temperatures in the case of ice users, or at least a resistance to it—there was a reason that Katsuki could let off detonations strong enough to send him flying through the air without losing both of his hands in a mess of gore, or burning the skin right off.

It wasn’t an unheard of condition to not have that safety measure, but it was unusual—his level of strength seemingly outscored his durability for it by such a large degree as well.

The strangest thing about it all was that he hadn’t used before now, not even a tiny enhancement during the grip test, where it would have most likely slipped by Aizawa’s eyes of nullification—or a boost during the long jump—nothing.

So his quirk might be so strong that he might not even be able to even use it in it’s most basic form without hurting himself. It actually showcased a high level of commitment and determination that he was willing to destroy his own finger to pass a test—along with high pain tolerance. Izuku Midoriya was clearly somebody who would go to extreme lengths to accomplish his goals.

I couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Sensei,” Izuku said, clenching his injured hand into a fist, “I can still move.”

“This kid…” Shota said wryly.

“What the hell is this, Deku!?” Katsuki said angrily, setting off on a direct path for Izuku. “You had a quirk after all?”

Izuku’s resolve crumbled in an instant, and he flinched back.

Shota moved suddenly, blurring forward, spinning, and lashing out with one of the bandages hanging around his neck. It pierced through the air in a way that a bandage shouldn’t and hooked around Katsuki’s face before yanking him backward.

“No fighting unless I permit it,” Shota said darkly, eyes burning red. “Besides, I’m getting dry eye over here! Stop making me use my quirk!”

Katsuki rage was mostly deflated by the sudden interruption, and Shota spoke up again before it could reignite.

“What a waste of time. Get back in the group and start preparing for the next test.” Shota said, annoyed, as his hair fell back around his shoulders. “Damn kids.”

Izuku slipped past Katsuki and back into the group. I studied the furious expression on Katsuki’s face, wondering why he was so invested in the other boy’s quirk if he disliked him so greatly.

“Finally,” Shota said indifferently, “It’s time for the results; Your total scores simply reflect your performance in each of the events—explaining how I’ve gone about scoring them would be useless to you all, so all you are getting is the final rankings.”

There was a wave of nervous muttering through the group, and the tension started to build before Shota suddenly destroyed it.

“Also, I was lying about expelling someone,” Shota said evenly, “That’s just stupid; I have no part in those types of decisions—though if you piss me off, I’ll be seeing how far my sway with the other faculty goes.”

I nodded at the admittance, feeling a small flash of satisfaction.

“It was simply a trick to motivate you all into working harder,” Shota said, smirking, “I’m surprised it worked as well as it did; guess they sent me a defective bunch this year.”

“What?” Mina cried out, pink face reddening. “It was a trick!?”

Toru placed her invisible hand on her chest and sighed in relief.

“Of course, it was a lie, Ashido,” Momo said, raising her eyebrows at her shock of the other. “It didn’t take much thought to figure that out—teachers aren’t the ones who make the decision to expel someone, they can report incidents certainly, but those reports go to another group entirely.”

Shota nodded at the explanation, lending it a degree of validity.

“Anyway, we’re done here,” Shota said evenly, “Your booklets are on my desk back in the classroom, go have a look at them—Midoriya, go to the nurse’s office first, Recovery Girl will fix your finger—Tomorrow’s trials aren’t going to be any easier, so prepare yourselves.”

I watched the cunning man walk away without another word, heading back in the direction of the building.

“That was crazy,” Mina said honestly, “Thought you were a goner for a minute there, Hagakure.”

“So did I,” Toru cried out in relief. “Midoriya! I thought I was safe, and then you suddenly pulled that out?! You scared me!”

I wondered if she was being serious or not.

“Sorry, Hagakure!” Midoriya apologized quickly, repeatedly bowing to the invisible girl. “I didn’t intend to! I-I have to go!”

The green-haired boy ran away without another word, ignoring the calls that followed him.

“A-ah,” Toru said, surprised. “I wasn’t being serious…”

“Did he really just apologize for trying not to get expelled?” Eijiro said bemused, “What a strange guy.”

“I think he was simply being polite,” I said, smiling, turning and heading towards the building.

“I guess so,” Eijiro grinned. “Hey Mina, congratulations on not getting kicked out on the first day—I was surprised!”

“Hey!” Mina laughed, “That’s my line, idiot!”

The booklets that Shota spoke of revealed the structure of the day-to-day classes—I read it several times for memorization and took a picture of the schedule just in case. The mornings were taken up entirely by completely normal subjects, apparently still mandatory for all years until graduation.

Homeroom, Foreign Languages, Math, Modern Art, and Modern Literature all fell into that category. Eraser Head, Present Mic, Ectoplasm, Midnight, and Cementoss were the teachers, respectively.

Lunch took place at the regular time, and afterward, the rest of the day was taken up entirely by heroic studies, in two separate blocks. Some days had the entire afternoon booked with one of the teachers, while others were split amongst more than one. The teacher most often listed for the first slot was the same man who had recorded the acceptance letters—All Might, while Eraser Head returned as the most common teacher of the second slot, although there were others.

First Aid was a class that fit into the second slot and was taught by Recovery Girl. Search and Rescue theory was taught by a hero called Thirteen. Reconnaissance theory was taught by a hero called Snipe—There were many others, but the subjects appeared far less frequently and were far too exhaustive to memorize.

The first class and the one they were currently waiting to begin was taught by none other than the man who had overseen the Recommendation Exam.

“Yooooooo!” Present Mic cheered, stepping into the room. “Welcome to foreign languages! The first year is mostly going to be the one I know you’re all familiar with, so don’t worry too much! Eh?! Why the long face pinky!”

“I’m terrible at English, Sensei!” Mina complained sheepishly, “Can’t we do something cooler?”

“Huuuh?!” Present Mic shouted, “What’s that, pinky?! You want something harder than English instead?”

“Uh. On second thought..” Mina laughed awkwardly, scratching at her horns for a moment.

“Great!” Present Mic called, “Alright, we gotta talk about what’s happening this year, get it all out on the table, alright? This is it, year one START!”

Hisoka’s Apartment, Musutafu, 4:02 PM

April 4th, 2149.

I’d narrowed the potential vessels that the Kureta’s had been kept on down to six.

The ones that had already been eliminated had either undershot the distance enough that Kana’s body wouldn’t have ended up where it had or were already far past the location within the two-hour time frame.

Of the seven left, one was a fishing vessel, one was a high population passenger ship, one was a large cargo ship, one was an absurdly expensive private yacht, and the last two were a part of the Japanese Coast Guard.

I thought I could safely eliminate the two coast guard ships from my investigation because if the government was involved, I was sure they could have done this in a less public way—the backlash and negative publicity had not been kind. If none of the others panned out, I could always return to investigating them afterward.

The fishing vessel, at first glance, had been the least suspicious; the company it belonged to had their trips all listed publically, on both their social media and on their personal trip. The personal blog of the captain of the vessel was a popular and well-liked presence online. They routinely took paying customer on the fishing trips, and some of it was even recorded.

There was, in fact, a video recording of part of the trip in question, and there had been no sign of the Kureta’s on the vessel—that didn’t mean they hadn’t been held out of sight of the camera, however, so I couldn’t entirely eliminate the possibility that their entire business was some kind of front for a quirk trafficking ring.

It remained on the list, and I moved on.

Both the cargo ship and the passenger ship had the same destination, I-Island—a technological marvel of a city that was the home of thousands of scientists. I could almost eliminate it entirely because it was, in fact, equipped with a world-renowned security system, and it prided itself on having the lowest crime rate of any city in the world.

All the ships would have been thoroughly scanned on arrival, which would have picked up on any passengers who had snuck aboard—it had been tried before, many times in fact—but all of the attempts had been reported as unsuccessful.

That left a private yacht who had been on a pleasure cruise at the time, and whose ownership was tied to an extremely wealthy family—the last name of the owner in question were extremely familiar.

Yaoyorozu.

Hisoka’s Apartment, Musutafu, 7:02 PM

April 4th, 2149.

“I did see him,” I said pleasantly, splitting my focus between the phone at my ear and the monitor showing the blueprints to a particular brand of yacht. “He is very tall in person, Hayami.”

“I bet he is!” Hayami said excitedly.

The yacht in question was beautiful—I had no interest in them, but even he could admit that. Three visible floors above water, open-air on two of them, with the topmost one being enclosed. Two floors below water level, one for cargo, one for living quarters.

The front of the yacht opened up into a flat deck that must have folded out from the front of the ship somehow because I couldn’t see how it could move without scooping water inside and flooding the lower levels.

There was even a pool—they were literally on the ocean; why did they need a pool?

“Did you do any hero training with him today?” Hayami asked, interested.

“No,” I said, smiling, “It was mostly introductions and explaining some of the different things we would be encountering throughout the first year at U.A.”

There was more than enough space on the yacht to hide three people, more than enough space to keep them below the ship even, and out of the sight of any cameras while leaving port. I didn’t know what their destination was, other than it spent a few days out in the ocean before returning. I had no idea who was actually on the ship at the time it left Shimoda—but I intended to find out.

“Did you know anyone in your class?” Hayami said happily.

Momo Yaoyorozu would be the first point to investigate there—I would need to come up with an angle of attack on befriending her, which meant I would need to start observing her immediately.

“There were two girls and one boy from the Recommendation Exam there,” I said pleasantly, “Momo Yaoyorozu and Shoto Todoroki are in my class, and Setsuna Tokage is in class 1B.”

Once I’d accomplished that, I could show his ‘interest’ in yacht construction and then sway her into revealing that her parents possessed one. From there, I could ask more general questions about it—spread out over a couple of months perhaps to avoid tipping her off.

“Oh! I actually made several pieces for Noriko Yaoyorozu, absolute darling that she is,” Hayami said happily, “I remember meeting little Momo too—though it was a few years ago.”

I paused in my study of the yacht as I incorporated the new information into my strategy. That was a second angle I could use, both to establish a connection with Momo and to perhaps lead Hayami into reconnecting with Noriko.

“A Todoroki as well? That would be one of Endeavour’s children.” Hayami said, surprised thoughtfully, “Wow, that’s quite an interesting class, Hisoka!”

“What piece did you make for Ms. Yaoyorozu?” I asked curiously.

Hayami’s voice audibly brightened at the interest shown in her art.