Morning at U.A. High School felt heavier than it should have.
Izuku Midoriya stood outside the door to Class 1-A, his hand hovering just inches from the handle. His body felt light—too light. Weak in a way that made every breath feel uncertain.
"…Not now," he whispered.
Because right now—
He was at his worst.
He pushed the door open.
Inside, the classroom buzzed with energy. Students talked excitedly, comparing Quirks, reliving the entrance exam, laughing like they had already made it.
Then—
They noticed him.
"Hey… that's him."
"The zero-pointer guy?"
"No way, he looks totally normal…"
Izuku shrank slightly under their gaze.
"…They're expecting the wrong version of me…"
"Sit down. We're starting."
The voice cut through the room instantly.
At the front of the class, a man lay inside a sleeping bag, his tired eyes barely open.
This was Shota Aizawa.
Their teacher.
A pro hero known for efficiency—and a complete lack of patience.
"You wasted time coming here," Aizawa said flatly. "There's no ceremony. No introductions."
The room fell silent.
"We're doing a Quirk assessment test."
The mood shifted instantly.
This wasn't a school.
It was a proving ground.
Outside, the class gathered on the training field. The sun hung low in the sky, still climbing.
Izuku could feel it.
Faint.
Distant.
"…Not enough."
The tests began.
Running. Jumping. Throwing. Grip strength.
Simple tasks.
For everyone else.
Izuku struggled through each one.
His steps were slower. His balance weaker. His results—
Near the bottom.
"…I can't even keep up," he thought, clenching his fists.
Around him, others excelled effortlessly.
Even Katsuki Bakugo glanced over, irritation flashing across his face.
"…This is the guy from yesterday?"
Aizawa watched quietly from the sidelines.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Strange," he muttered.
"That doesn't match what I saw."
The final test was simple.
"Ball throw," Aizawa said, tossing one toward Izuku. "Use your Quirk."
Izuku stepped forward slowly.
The sun had risen slightly higher.
Not enough to transform him.
But enough to stir something.
"…I have to control it."
Because too much—
And he'd lose himself.
Too little—
And he'd fail.
"You're holding back."
Izuku froze.
Aizawa's gaze sharpened.
"I don't allow that."
Suddenly—
Everything disappeared.
The warmth.
The strength.
Gone.
Izuku's eyes widened.
"…What—?!"
His body weakened instantly, his knees nearly buckling.
"My Quirk erases others," Aizawa said calmly.
Izuku stared at his hands.
Nothing.
No power.
No strength.
No escape.
"Now throw," Aizawa ordered.
Fear crept in.
Because without the sun—
He had nothing.
Aizawa released his Quirk.
"Again."
Izuku stepped forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He looked at the ball.
Then—
Up.
The sun had climbed higher now.
Still not at its peak.
But closer.
"…Fine."
The shift began.
Subtle at first.
Then undeniable.
His posture straightened.
His breathing steadied.
The hesitation vanished.
Students nearby felt it immediately.
"…What just changed?"
Even Bakugo's eyes narrowed.
"…That presence…"
Izuku rolled his shoulder slightly.
"…You want to see it?"
His voice had changed.
Lower.
Calmer.
Heavier.
"…Then don't complain."
He threw the ball.
The air cracked.
The ball vanished into the sky instantly.
The measuring device struggled—
Then froze.
Error. Measurement exceeded.
Silence fell over the field.
Complete.
Izuku lowered his arm slowly.
"…Pathetic."
A few students flinched.
"Using effort on something so trivial…"
The pressure lingered.
Not just strength—
Something else.
Something oppressive.
Aizawa stared at him.
Long.
Carefully.
"…You pass."
Relief spread across the class.
But Aizawa didn't relax.
Because he understood something important.
"That wasn't effort," he thought.
"…That was inevitability."
After the test, students began to disperse.
But one didn't.
"Oi, Deku."
Izuku turned.
Still standing in that calm, elevated state.
Katsuki Bakugo approached, jaw tight.
"…What the hell are you?"
Izuku looked at him.
Unbothered.
"…You're still asking that?"
He stepped forward.
The ground cracked faintly beneath his foot.
Bakugo didn't step back this time.
But he felt it.
That pressure.
That difference.
"…Let me make it simple," Izuku said.
His voice dropped.
Steady.
Absolute.
"From the moment the sun rises…"
He looked directly at Bakugo.
"…I begin surpassing you."
Bakugo clenched his fists.
"And by the time it reaches its peak…"
A faint smirk formed.
"…you don't even exist on the same level."
Silence stretched between them.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then—
It faded.
The sun shifted.
The light dimmed.
Izuku blinked.
His posture faltered.
"…Ah…"
Confusion returned.
"S-sorry, Kacchan, I didn't mean—"
Bakugo didn't respond.
Didn't yell.
Didn't explode.
He just stared.
Because now—
He understood.
There were two versions of Izuku Midoriya.
And one of them—
Was completely untouchable.
From a distance, Shota Aizawa watched quietly.
"…Two personalities," he muttered.
"One weak. One overwhelming."
He crossed his arms.
"…And the stronger one…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…has no humility."
That day made one thing clear.
To the class.
To the teachers.
And slowly—
To Izuku himself.
His power wasn't just strength.
It wasn't just timing.
At its peak—
It didn't struggle.
It didn't try.
It simply stood above everything else.
End of chapter