The U.A. entrance exam loomed three weeks away when Anim first noticed the changes.
It started small—an extra rep at the gym that should have been impossible, a weight that felt lighter than it had the day before. Kirishima noticed too, commenting on Anim's improved form during their usual workout routine.
"You've been holding out on me," Kirishima said, sliding another plate onto the barbell. "When did you get this strong?"
Anim shrugged, not trusting his voice. The truth was, he didn't know. His body seemed to be adapting, evolving in ways that had nothing to do with conventional training. The sensations from his childhood—that tingling in his fingertips, the way his skin stretched beyond normal limits—were becoming more pronounced.
At home, Mina threw herself into acid training with characteristic enthusiasm. Their backyard bore the scars of her practice sessions: dissolved patches of grass, pockmarked concrete, and one unfortunate garden gnome that had been reduced to a puddle of ceramic slurry. Their parents had long since given up on maintaining a pristine lawn.
"Watch this!" Mina called out during one evening session, dissolving a stack of old textbooks with practiced precision. "I can control the pH levels now. Kirishima's been helping me work on accuracy."
Anim observed from the back porch, noting how her confidence had grown since the Gigantomachia incident. She moved with purpose now, each gesture deliberate and controlled. The girl who had once accidentally burned holes through her own shirts was becoming someone formidable.
"Your turn," she said, wiping acid residue from her palms. "Show me what you've been working on."
That was the problem. Anim wasn't entirely sure what he'd been working on. His abilities weren't flashy like Mina's acid or straightforward like Kirishima's hardening. They were subtle, internal, like something waiting for the right moment to emerge.
He approached the makeshift training area and picked up a concrete block their father had brought home from a construction site. The weight that should have required both hands felt manageable with one. He set it down and stepped back, focusing on the strange energy that had been building inside him.
His body responded, skin taking on a slight elasticity that absorbed the impact as he struck the concrete. The block cracked cleanly down the middle.
"Whoa." Mina's eyes widened. "Since when can you do that?"
"Since always, I guess." The lie came easier than the truth. How could he explain that he was remembering abilities rather than developing them? That somewhere in the fragments of his previous life lay the blueprint for something extraordinary?
"That's incredible! But is that really your Quirk? I thought it was just enhanced durability."
Anim flexed his fingers, watching the skin shift subtly. "Maybe it's more complicated than that."
That night, alone in his room, he tested the limits of these new developments. His body could stretch, compress, and reshape itself in minor ways. Nothing dramatic—he wasn't turning into putty—but the potential was there, humming beneath the surface like a engine warming up.
The mirror showed him the same face, the same white-pink hair, but something had changed in his eyes. They held a knowledge that hadn't been there before, an awareness of what he might become.
His phone buzzed. A text from Kirishima: Gym tomorrow? Want to try that new routine we talked about.
Anim smiled and typed back: Sure. Fair warning though—I think I'm getting stronger.
Good! We'll need every advantage we can get for U.A.
U.A. The entrance exam that would determine everything. Anim had seen the footage from previous years, watched students with flashy Quirks dominate the robot challenges while others struggled to make an impact. The written exam wouldn't be a problem—his previous life's academic obsessions had left him with a solid foundation. But the practical assessment would require him to demonstrate abilities he was only beginning to understand.
Three weeks to figure out what he was becoming. Three weeks to master powers that felt both foreign and familiar. Three weeks to prepare for a test that would either launch his hero career or end it before it began.
Outside his window, Mina was still training, her acid illuminating the backyard in brief, brilliant flashes. She attacked each exercise with the same determination she'd shown facing Gigantomachia—no hesitation, no second-guessing, just pure forward momentum.
Anim envied that certainty. Mina knew exactly who she was and what she wanted to become. He was still figuring out the basics of his own existence.
But as he watched his sister push herself harder, dissolving targets with increasing precision, he felt something solidify inside him. Whatever he was, whatever these abilities meant, he wouldn't let her face U.A. alone. They were twins, partners in this journey toward heroism.
He just had to hope that when the moment came, he'd be ready to show the world what Anim Ashido could really do.
The phone buzzed again. This time it was Mina: Saw you testing your Quirk earlier. You're going to be amazing at U.A.
He stared at the message for a long moment before typing back: We both are.
Race you to the top of the hero rankings?
You're on.
Anim set the phone aside and returned to the mirror. Three weeks. He could work with three weeks.
After all, he had a sister to keep up with.