It was 9pm and Arthur Boyle had locked himself in the basement.
Boxes full of Lego stuck to the walls, all surrounding a towering castle. It wasn't even half finished and already had a scale that spoke of years of patient effort.
The castle was not grim nor gritty. It was fantastical. White walls and rounded pillars, with hints of red decorations in the interior made it clear the castle was never meant to be an accurate depiction of real castles.
It was a castle of fantasy. Nothing more and nothing less than pure imagination unhindered by realism.
Tomorrow, in the morning, Arthur would leave to give his written entrance exam. Anyone in his position would be desperately rushing through notes and practice questions, praying for the slightest chance that one of the many concepts they were shoving into their heads would be in the exam.
Not Arthur.
He was confident.
He had prepared. (He hadn't.)
He was ready. (He most certainly wasn't.)
He knew the subjects like the back of his hand. (His favorite subject was Physical Education.)
His mentors were undoubtedly proud of him as well. (He had not paid attention to a single subject taught in the classroom.)
In short, there was no reason to worry.
It was a knight's fate to overcome all the challenges he faces.
In the same evening of the written exam was the practical.
Now that was an exam Arthur was truly excited for.
I wonder what hurdles they will throw at me. I hope they have a dragon for me to vanquish. Or maybe I should tame it? Father showed me a movie where the knight rode a dragon. Is that the new knightly trend?
While Arthur, blissfully lost in his own world, constructed his model castle, the vibe of the floor above him was completely different.
Higari Maijima paced around the living room with a furrow in his brow.
By day he was Power Loader, esteemed faculty of UA, and by night he was Higari the worried parent.
He was uncomfortably aware of his son's academic abilities, which were unfortunately limited to throwing in Shakespearean English in places where it never should be.
He ran a hand through his hair.
Well at the very least, the practical exam should save him.
Of all the hero students Higari had seen come and go, he could confidently say Arthur held the potential to match the best of them.
The boy was an idiot. A delusional idiot. An unaware delusional idiot.
That was until you put him in a fight.
Combat instinct beyond what any child his age should possess, Arthur Boyle moved like he had been born to fight.
Higari had taught him nothing. The boy learned to use his quirk on his own and was using it better than some pros would.
Letting his hand fall to his side, he sighed.
"Well, Arthur will do as Arthur does."
And by god I hope he does well.