"If I were rain, that joins the sky and earth, that otherwise never touch, could I join two hearts as well?"
__________
[MY HERO ACADEMIA]
(Y/N)'s P.O.V
The aftermath of Midoriya and Bakugo's match lingered heavily over the training facility.
Midoriya had been taken straight to Recovery Girl's office, his body paying the price for forcing power it still couldn't withstand.
Bakugo remained behind, but whatever fire he usually carried was unstable now, simmering instead of exploding. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes sharp yet unfocused, like he was replaying the fight over and over in his head, searching for the moment where it slipped from his grasp.
Bakugo, Iida, and Uraraka were lined up at the side of the room while All Might prepared to give his evaluation. I stood a short distance away, hands tucked into my pockets, posture relaxed but alert. My gaze drifted upward as All Might cleared his throat.
"Well, even I say that, the MVP of this battle was Young Iida!" he announced brightly.
Iida stiffened instantly, snapping his head toward All Might as if he'd misheard.
"E–Eh?!"
The reaction wasn't surprising. But All Might wasn't wrong.
Iida had been the most consistent variable in that match—methodical, rule-abiding, and adaptable. He understood the objective and structured his actions around it.
Bakugo, on the other hand, had let personal history dictate his decisions. Turning the role of villain into something instinctual for him was natural. As for Uraraka, she'd done well, but her success hinged more on opportunity than planning.
Tsuyu raised her hand slightly, her expression unchanged. "So it's not either of the winners? Not Ochaco or Midoriya?"
All Might hummed thoughtfully. "Why do you think that is?" He scanned the class. "Anyone?"
Yaoyorozu raised her hand, composed as ever. "Yes, Mr. All Might. That's because Iida adapted the most effectively to the context of the training."
She spoke calmly, but there was weight behind her words.
"Bakugo acted independently, motivated by an obvious personal grudge. As you stated earlier, launching large-scale attacks indoors was strategically foolish."
Her eyes shifted briefly, thoughtful rather than critical. "Midoriya's plan, while creative, was also reckless when considering the damage he sustained."
She turned slightly toward Uraraka.
"And Uraraka let her guard down midway through the battle. Her final move only succeeded because the weapon wasn't real. Had it been, that action would've been too dangerous to justify."
Finally, her gaze returned to Iida.
"Iida prepared for his opponents' arrival and correctly assumed the fight would center around defending the weapon. That assumption delayed his response to the final maneuver, but overall, his approach was the most aligned with the exercise."
She paused.
"The hero team only won because they exploited the fact that this was a training scenario. Strictly speaking, they bent the rules."
Silence followed.
I didn't move with my hands stayed in my coat pockets. She hadn't missed anything.
The others exchanged glances, some uneasy, some impressed.
"Well—!" All Might laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Young Iida could stand to loosen up a bit, but... yes! That was a very accurate assessment!"
He flashed Yaoyorozu a thumbs-up, his grin so radiant it bordered on blinding.
I looked away. Excessive optimism like that always grated on me.
Yaoyorozu nodded once.
"We must always start with the fundamentals to deepen our understanding. Without committing ourselves fully to the basics, we can't hope to become top heroes."
"All right!" All Might clapped his hands together. "Let's move on to the second match. Keep everything we've discussed in mind!"
"YES, SIR!" the class shouted in unison. I didn't join in.
I waited quietly as the next teams rotated in. Todoroki's team went up against Team I, and won effortlessly. His Quirk was exactly as I'd suspected: ice and fire, controlled with precision.
One by one, the matches concluded. Eventually, All Might called out the next pairing.
My team... versus Team J. Others in the room were watching me with interest because of the show I had put up back in the fitness test.
I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening briefly in my pockets before relaxing again. Time to move.
. . .
Our matchup was announced, and just like that, it was settled, my team as heroes, Team J as villains. We were given a short window to plan before the exercise began. I barely spared it a thought.
I glanced at my partner. He stood stiff beside me, shoulders drawn inward, clearly rattled, whether by the situation or by me, I didn't care enough to guess.
With a quiet sigh, I lowered my gaze back to the blueprints spread out in front of us. Every entrance, every corridor, every choke point, I committed them to memory in seconds, tracing optimal paths and exit routes without hesitation.
Then All Might's voice boomed over the speakers.
"Time is about to start, Team H and Team J! Heroes, secure the nuclear weapon or defeat the villains! Villains, defend the objective or capture the heroes! The battle begins, now!"
"Tch," I muttered under my breath. "How obnoxious."
I folded the blueprints and stepped past my teammate, stopping only long enough to look at him head-on. He flinched.
"You're not exactly reliable, are you?" I said flatly, my tone devoid of malice.
I didn't wait for a response.
Turning toward the nearest entrance, I continued, already moving. "I don't need dead weight slowing me down. If you want to help, stay out of my way."
With that, I headed inside alone, footsteps steady. With Koji following beside me with a determined look on his face. Good.
I slowed my breathing and heightened my focus, reinforcing my ears with EST. The world sharpened instantly, layers of sound separating, overlapping noises filtering into something clean and readable. Each footstep echoed with intent.
By the time we reached the third floor, I caught it. Two distinct rhythms.
Sero Hanta... and Rikido Sato.
So they abandoned their post and left their teammate alone with the weapon. They haven't learned.
How foolish. I lifted a hand slightly. "Go," I murmured.
My teammate stiffened, then nodded without question, darting down an adjacent corridor and vanishing from sight. Good. At least he understood when to listen.
I remained where I was, posture relaxed, hands still tucked inside my trench coat pockets as the two villains emerged into view.
My gaze settled on them, calm and unreadable. "Ganging up on me?" I said quietly. "That was your plan?"
Sero snapped his tape loose, arms raised defensively, while Sato stepped forward, jaw set.
"We know what you're capable of." Sero replied. "That's exactly why we're doing this together."
Sato's Quirk activated a moment later, his body swelling with dense muscle, veins standing out as raw power surged through him. A straightforward enhancement type, using sugars.
"...Interesting," I muttered.
I straightened slightly.
"Very well," I said, my voice steady and cold. "I'll indulge you."
My grey eyes shifted, bleeding into a luminous pale blue as darkness emitted out of my body. Then, something else poured out of me. Darkness spilled across the corridor like liquid ink, unnatural, heavy, alive.
It crawled along the walls, flooded the floor, and coiled around their feet without fully solidifying, as if waiting for permission to become lethal.
The lights dimmed. Then vanished. Even the surveillance cameras were swallowed whole, their lenses smothered in writhing black.
The air grew suffocating.
"This," I continued, my voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere, "is the mistake you'll remember."
And in the pitch-black silence that followed, fear finally replaced their confidence. I rushed at them, taking advantage of the situation.
I raised my hand. A broadsword began to take shape in my grasp, light-blue, almost translucent, as if carved from frozen light itself.
It wasn't solid metal, yet it felt heavier than steel. Power pulsed through it in steady waves, the blade emitting a low, vibrating hum that resonated directly with my Quirk.
The same one I had use against the robots back in the entrance exam. Even so, the edges were blunt. Intentionally so. Breaking them without ending their lives, it's hard.
Sero took a step back, tape twitching from his elbows. "T-That thing—"
"Don't hesitate!" Sato barked, stomping forward as the floor cracked beneath his weight. "I'll crush him!"
Sato charged first. How predictable.
He swung a massive fist toward my head, raw strength tearing through the air. I didn't retreat. Instead, I pivoted, the sword moving in a clean arc as I slammed the flat of the blade into his ribs.
The impact echoed like a cannon blast. Sato was launched sideways, his reinforced body skidding across the darkness-slick floor before slamming into the wall hard enough to spiderweb the concrete. He groaned, breath knocked clean out of him.
Before Sero could react, the darkness surged.
Tape shot toward me, but it never reached its target. The liquid darkness rose like a tide, wrapping around the tape mid-flight and dragging it down, swallowing it whole.
"What—?!" Sero yanked instinctively.
I was already there.
In an instant, I closed the distance, the sword humming louder as I drove the blunt edge into his stomach. Not a cut, just pure, overwhelming force. Sero doubled over, coughing violently as his feet left the ground.
I twisted my wrist and struck again, this time across his shoulder, sending him spinning before he crashed beside Sato.
Neither of them could stand.
Sato tried anyway, muscles straining as he forced himself up on one knee. "You're... a... monster..."
I stepped forward, darkness clinging to my boots, sword resting against my shoulder. "No," I corrected calmly. "I am a hero..."
I raised the blade once more, then brought it down, stopping just short of Sato's neck as the darkness snapped into solid restraints, pinning both of them to the floor.
The hum of the sword faded as I let it dissolve back into light. "Stay down," I said quietly. "This exercise is over for you."
I created a tendril out of darkness from my hand and shot it toward them, capturing them with ease.
"That's enough for now."
The hall began to return back to normal as the darkness that swallowed up the hall and covered the camera disappeared. All the camera could see was that the two villains were defeated effortlessly.
And with that, I turned away, already heading toward the weapon with my hands inside my coat pockets.
. . .
By the time I reached the core room, I spotted Koji crouched behind one of the support pillars, clutching himself tight as he stared at the weapon. Standing squarely in front of it was Kirishima, arms crossed, posture relaxed, but alert. A living wall.
Koji was shaking. I deduced it was probably because of him hating violence
My first instinct was to scoff. Of course he'd freeze up. The words were already forming... Then a memory cut in, sharp and unwelcome.
"(Y/N), don't go talking down on people, okay?" Nemuri's voice, gentle, disappointed in that quiet way that stung more than anger ever could.
...Damn it.
I exhaled slowly and swallowed the remark.
"You did well," I said instead, keeping my voice low as I stepped beside Koji. He flinched when I patted his shoulder, then slowly relaxed when he realized I wasn't angry. "You found it. That's enough."
He looked up at me, wide-eyed.
"I'll draw him away," I continued calmly. "When I move, you touch the weapon. Don't hesitate."
Koji nodded, quick, frantic, but determined.
Then I stepped forward and let myself be seen.
Kirishima's head snapped toward me, eyes lighting up immediately. "You're the guy that got the first place in entrance exam, right? " he said, grinning as his skin began to harden. "Man, I'm excited."
"I'm honored," I replied flatly, slipping my hands out of my coat pockets. "But I'm in a hurry."
His Quirk activated fully, skin turning jagged and stone-like as he planted his feet. "Then you'll have to go through me!"
The floor darkened beneath my boots.
Darkness bled outward, spreading like ink, but Kirishima didn't budge. Instead, he charged, straightforward, fearless, exactly as expected.
He threw a right hook aimed at my head. I didn't block.
I slid under it, then drove my shoulder into his chest. The impact should've sent him flying.
Instead, it felt like slamming into a concrete wall. "Nice try!" Kirishima laughed, swinging again.
So brute force wouldn't work. Fine.
The darkness surged upward, wrapping around his legs, not to bind, but to pull. Kirishima staggered as his footing vanished for half a second, and that was all I needed.
I manifested the broadsword again, the light-blue blade humming softly, and struck, flat side, right across his ribs.
The blow didn't crack him. But it moved him.
Kirishima skidded backward several feet, boots carving grooves into the floor. He blinked in surprise, then laughed louder. "Whoa! Okay, that actually hurt!"
He rushed me again, hardened even further, swinging wildly. I met him head-on.
Each clash rang out like steel on stone, my blade slamming against his arms, shoulders, torso. I wasn't trying to break through his defense. I was redirecting, striking angles, forcing him to turn, to chase.
Step by step, I drew him away from the weapon. Behind him, I felt it, the subtle shift in the air.
Koji moved. Kirishima noticed too late.
"Huh—?! Hey, wait—!"
Guess I have no choice but to be a little bit serious. Then, I aimed my right hand at him.
"Samghata." I muttered softly, summoning a series of giant halves stones larger than each other from each other that will collide at a chosen point in a sequential motion to pulverize him.
Fortunatley, he managed to dodge it before the stones could collide at each other.
Using that as a distraction, I immediately appeared above him and brought the blunt tip of the blade down, hard, right into his chest, enhancing my blade with the precise amount of EST to pin him down against the floor, breaking his hardening slowly.
Then, Koji touched the nuclear weapon, earning us the win. I let the blade dissolve, as the darkness stopped emitting from my body as I looked down at him. My eyes returning back to my usual grey ones.
"You fought well." I said. Then, All Might's voice echoed through the building.
"Hero team has won! Class is officially over!" All Might's voice boomed through the exit hall, carrying that signature energy that made it impossible to ignore.
I glanced down at Kirishima, who was dusting himself off, smiling sheepishly.
Without a word, I extended a hand, helping him upright. "Thanks," he muttered with a grateful nod. I just inclined my head and turned, slipping my hands back into the pockets of my trench coat as I walked down the building.
After my match, the class has officially concluded. The rest of Class 1-A followed behind, some chattering excitedly, others visibly exhausted, but everyone carried a spark of satisfaction.
"Good work, everyone!" All Might continued, raising his arms dramatically. "No major injuries, except for Young Midoriya, of course! I can see you all took this seriously!"
A few students clearly were feeling the strain of their first real training session. I could tell that some of them had no real combat experience beyond minor simulations.
Todoroki, on the other hand... he was clearly accustomed to rigorous training like me. Being Endeavor's son comes with its perks.
All Might's smilestretched wider as he gave us a thumb-up. "You've all done admirably for your very first class like this!"
Tsuyu raised her hand, tilting her head. "Honestly, after Mr. Aizawa's class... this feels a little anticlimactic." She wasn't wrong, the stakes were lower, the atmosphere lighter, but the tension earlier had been real. The others nodded in agreement, murmuring their concurrence.
With a flourish, All Might spread his arms, almost theatrically.
"Even so, it's important to have proper, structured classes as well! And now..." He paused, "I must review the results with Young Midoriya!"
All Might sprinted off toward the clinic in one of his trademark bursts, the wind whipping as he disappeared from view.
I watched him go for a moment. Huh... those two have some sort of history. Recovery Girl mentioned it before... I tilted my head slightly, recalling her words.
"Though, at this rate... All Might's going to give me gray hairs someday... if I even have any left to spare."
Nearby, Kaminari was practically bouncing with admiration. "All Might's amazing!"
Ojiro frowned slightly. "Why was he in such a hurry?"
"Too cool..." Mineta muttered, eyes wide, clearly impressed.
I turned back toward the changing room, walking ahead of the others, hands still buried in my coat pockets. One by one, the students shuffled in behind me.
The day wasn't over yet, we had to change back into our uniforms and head to our classroom for our next class, but for a moment, the tension of combat, strategy, and survival faded, leaving only the quiet hum of accomplishment.
This is just the beginning. I thought. The real work starts now.
...
The afternoon classes had finally drawn to a close. The sky was brushing a muted orange as the clock in the hall struck almost five. I was making my way toward the teachers' office, intending to wait for Nemuri to finish her duties.
Passing by the clinic, a sudden curiosity tugged at me. The door was slightly ajar, and I found myself pushing it open just a fraction, glancing inside. The room was quiet, the faint antiseptic smell mingling with the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows.
Recovery Girl noticed me almost immediately.
"Oh, Kayama. What brings you here?" Her voice was warm, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone.
"I came to check on Midoriya," I replied calmly, lowering my gaze toward her. "Where is he, by the way?"
"Oh, he already made his way back to your classroom," she said with a small, knowing smile.
I gave a slight nod and moved on, making my way to the teachers' office. The hall was quiet now, filled only with the soft echo of my steps. Entering the office, I noticed a few teachers still at their desks, buried in paperwork. As soon as they saw me, their curiosity piqued.
"Oh, (Y/N)! Here to see Midnight, yeah?"Present Mic appeared suddenly, one arm draped casually over my shoulder. His usual energy made it impossible not to notice.
"Uh, yeah," I replied, keeping my voice even, unsure of how to respond to his familiar, over-the-top manner.
From the corner, Aizawa stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Midnight is currently teaching the third years. She'll be done in about thirty minutes. Come back then."
I nodded silently, accepting his words. Without further comment, I turned and left the office, my hands slipping into the pockets of my coat. The corridor was quiet again, a soft breeze drifting in through the open windows. Thirty minutes would pass quickly. Until then, I had nothing to do but wait.
'Not a bad way to pass the time,' I thought, glancing at the soft afternoon light as it stretched across the hall.
As I neared my classroom, a familiar presence stopped me in my tracks. Shoto Todoroki stood there, half-shadowed by the hallway lights, his mismatched eyes fixed squarely on me.
"What do you want?" I asked, my tone flat and uninterested.
"I saw how you fought against Kirishima," he said evenly. "And his teammates were talking. Sato wouldn't stop rambling about how you took him and Sero down without effort..."
His gaze sharpened. I met his stare without blinking.
Then he spoke again, his voice cold, resolute. "If I'm going to surpass All Might... then I'll have to defeat you."
A slow, crooked grin spread across my face, one that didn't hold any warmth. "I'm looking forward to it, Todoroki," I replied. "But if you plan on fighting me using only your ice..."
I leaned slightly closer as I passed him. "Then you'll lose."
I straightened, my expression hardening. "I'm not the type to show mercy to my enemies, let alone rivals."
With that, I walked past him, leaving the tension hanging thick in the air behind us. I didn't need to look back to know he was still standing there, silent, burning, and already planning our inevitable clash.
________
[??? - League Of Villain's Hideout]
Deep within Kamino Ward, tucked away in a forgotten corner of Yokohama where neon lights no longer reached, stood an abandoned bar that most people didn't even realize still existed. Its sign hung crooked, half-rusted, creaking faintly whenever the wind slipped through the alleyways like a whisper.
The door opened. A tall man stepped inside, his presence immediately warping the atmosphere.
Messy blond hair was tied back into a long ponytail, strands loose and unbothered, as if effort itself bored him. His cloudy blue eyes swept lazily across the room, sharp despite their distant haze, settling on the figures within.
He wore a dark gray windbreaker draped casually over a faded yellow shirt, beige slacks creased just enough to suggest refinement.
A pleasant, almost warm smile rested on his face, polite, approachable, kind. And yet, it was the sort of smile that existed solely to hide something rotten beneath.
Kurogiri noticed him the instant he crossed the threshold. The black mist that made up his form subtly shifted as he turned toward the doorway, posture straightening in quiet alertness.
Nearby, Tomura Shigaraki slouched in a chair, fingers twitching restlessly against the armrest.
A television hummed beside him, static flickering faintly across the screen, casting pale light over his hunched form. The blond man stopped a few steps away, hands tucked into his pockets, expression unchanging.
"It's a pleasure," he said smoothly, voice calm and courteous. "To finally meet his successor."
Tomura's eye twitched.
"Shut up already," he snapped, clicking his tongue as irritation spiked. His hand lifted slightly, just enough for the threat to be clear.
Dusting the man where he stood wouldn't even take a second.
Kurogiri moved immediately, placing himself subtly between them, his tone calm but firm.
"Please forgive Tomura's discourtesy," he said with a slight bow of his head. "However... the sentiment is mutual."
The mist around him curled faintly as his hidden gaze fixed on the newcomer.
"I could say the same to you," Kurogiri continued evenly, "Raxfer Sinclair, the second son of the Mad Elder. I've heard of you from Master"
The blond man's smile widened just a fraction, not offended, not surprised. If anything, he looked amused.
"My, my," he murmured. "So the name still carries weight."
Tomura scoffed, nails scraping against the chair as his irritation simmered. "You talk too much," he growled, eyes burning with open hostility. "If you're here to test me, I'll erase you."
The man chuckled softly, unfazed. "Straight to the point. How refreshing." His gaze shifted back to Tomura, studying him, not as an equal, but as something unfinished. "No, Tomura Shigaraki. I'm not here to test you."
He took another step forward, the air itself seeming to tighten around him.
"I'm here," he said lightly, "to see whether you're living up to the expectations left behind."
Kurogiri's mist thickened, tension rising. Tomura's fingers curled tighter. "Enough."
The single word cut through the room like a blade.
The television screen flickered, static clearing as a man's voice poured from the speakers, calm, authoritative, absolute. The air in the bar seemed to freeze at once.
Tomura stiffened. His hand dropped back to the armrest, fingers still trembling but restrained. Kurogiri straightened instinctively, the swirling mist around him settling into an obedient stillness.
Neither of them spoke.
"Good," the man on the screen continued, his tone measured, carrying the weight of unquestioned command. "You're here."
The camera angle shifted slightly, shadows obscuring most of his face, leaving only the suggestion of a smile. "I'm pleased that the Mad Elder agreed to my request."
The blond man tilted his head just a little, his polite smile never wavering. "Yes," he replied smoothly. "He did."
His voice carried respect, but not reverence. The kind of tone used between predators who recognized each other's fangs.
Tomura clicked his tongue softly, annoyance simmering beneath the surface, but he held himself back. The presence on the screen demanded that much, whether he liked it or not.
Kurogiri inclined his head toward the television. "We are listening, Master." he said calmly, though the tension in the room remained thick.
The man on the screen let the silence stretch, clearly savoring the shift in control. Then he spoke again, slow and deliberate. "Then let us proceed," he said. "This meeting is long overdue."
The screen hummed quietly, casting pale light across the cracked walls, while unseen plans began aligning in the dark, far beyond the confines of that forgotten bar.