The journey home from U.A. was a hazy experience, a parade of pain muted by the last vestiges of adrenaline. Every step felt like walking on broken glass, and each breath was shallow. The process of the armor receding back into my body had been more painful than its emergence; it felt as if my muscles were being torn from the bone and then forcibly reattached. By the time I reached my apartment door, I could barely stand upright. I took a deep breath, trying to still the trembling in my hands, and put on the most normal expression I could manage before opening the door.
Of course, my efforts were in vain. My mother, Sora, had a sixth sense for these things. She was in the kitchen when I stepped inside, but she turned immediately, the smile on her face fading into a mask of concern. "Tacchan? What's wrong with you? You're as pale as a ghost!"
"I'm fine, Mom," I said, my voice hoarse. "Just... exhausted. The exam was pretty intense."
That was a massive understatement. My father, Kenji, emerged from his study, his brow furrowed with worry as he saw me. They took in my torn gym uniform, my pale face, and the way I leaned against the wall for support. I tried to lie, saying it was just a case of "excessive Quirk usage," a common enough phrase. The visible relief on their faces upon hearing I actually had a functioning Quirk was so palpable it made my heart ache. However, that relief was quickly replaced by a new, deeper kind of worry. What kind of power could leave their son in such a state? That night, they cared for me with a painful tenderness, feeding me dinner and telling me to rest, but I could feel their worried gazes following my every move. I had given them proof of my power, but with it, I had also given them a new reason to be afraid.
The next day, I met Toru at our usual park. She must have been waiting, because as I approached, I could see her floating shoes kicking impatiently at the sand. "So?!" she asked before I even had a chance to sit down. "How did it go? Did it work? What happened? Are you okay?"
I managed a small smile, the pain in my body having subsided into a constant, dull ache. I told her everything—or at least, a version I could make sense of. I described how the armor had burst from my skin, the accompanying pain, and the incredible power I had felt. I even rolled up my sleeve, showing her the faint marks on my skin—thin, barely visible lines, like long-healed burns, marking where the plates had emerged.
From where I sat, I could only see Toru's gloves and shoes, but I could feel a total shift in the atmosphere around her. Her bubbly excitement vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. I felt a very gentle touch on my arm. Her invisible fingers carefully traced the faint marks. I could imagine the horrified expression on her face. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was small and trembling, devoid of all its usual cheer. "Was… was it worth it, Tatsumi-kun?"
The question pierced me deeper than any physical pain. Was having this power worth the agony that came with it? I looked toward her invisible eyes, knowing she was watching me with concern. "It has to be," I answered softly, and I meant it. "It has to be worth it."
The following week was torture. Every day I checked the mailbox with growing anxiety. I spent my time trying to summon the armor again in my room. I concentrated, trying to replicate the feeling of desperation and determination from the exam, but nothing happened. The heat in my chest was still there, but it had returned to a silent ember. I came to a frightening conclusion: my power was an ultimate weapon with no safety switch, and its trigger was a true life-or-death situation. I couldn't control it. I couldn't train it. I could only hope it would appear when I truly needed it.
Finally, the letter arrived. It was a thick envelope with the familiar red wax seal of U.A. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. My parents stood behind me in the living room, just as anxious as I was. With trembling hands, I opened the envelope and took out a small hologram projector. I placed it on the table, and an image flickered to life in the air.
"I AM HERE, AS A PROJECTION!" All Might's booming voice filled the room. He gave his standard welcoming speech, full of spirit and encouragement. Then, he got to the important part. "Tatsumi Shonen, you passed the written exam with excellent marks! But let's take a look at your practical exam results!"
A screen appeared beside him, displaying footage of my destructive path through the battle center. "With a total of forty-five Villain Points, you've already surpassed the passing threshold! A truly outstanding display of power!" All Might shouted. My mother gasped happily, but my father held his breath, knowing there was more.
"BUT THAT'S NOT ALL!" All Might continued, his smile widening. "This exam doesn't just test the power to defeat! It tests the heroic spirit to save! And in that regard, your performance was truly radiant!"
The screen showed footage from different angles. Me lifting the rubble off the rabbit-eared girl. Me shielding the boy with the jet Quirk. And finally, me using my own body to protect another examinee from the debris thrown by the Zero-Pointer.
"Selfless acts to save others are the very core of heroism! And for that, you have earned... forty Rescue Points!"
My total score appeared on the screen: 85 Points.
I stared at the number, speechless. It was an incredibly high score. But the biggest shock was yet to come.
"With a total of eighty-five points, Tatsumi Shonen," All Might said, his voice filled with a thrilling pride, "you have not only passed. You have placed FIRST among all examinees! Welcome to your Hero Academia!"
The projection died, leaving a stunned silence in the room. First place? Me? I wasn't even aiming for that. I just did what I thought was right. I had beaten Katsuki Bakugo, who I knew had focused solely on destruction points. Suddenly, I felt tight hugs from both sides. My parents were crying, not from worry, but from pure pride and joy. "We're so proud of you, Tacchan!" my mother sobbed. My father just patted my back, but I could feel his emotions vibrating through the touch. In that moment, all the pain and struggle felt worth it.
A few days prior at U.A., the teachers had held a meeting to finalize the scores. Tatsumi's footage was a major topic of debate. "Forty-five villain points is impressive, certainly," said Cementoss. "But look at that level of destruction. It's a bit... excessive."
"Look again," Aizawa interjected in his monotone voice, though his sharp eyes never left the screen. He played the footage of the moment Tatsumi switched from attacking to rescuing. "Here. At the three-minute and twenty-seven-second mark. He stops hunting. He has enough points and he knows it. Every action he takes after that is purely altruistic. He even risked his own safety to shield another candidate from the Zero-Pointer when he could have just fled."
Principal Nezu smiled from his chair. "Indeed. Candidate Bakugo showed immense power with his seventy-seven villain points. But he showed not a single shred of heroic intent. Candidate Tatsumi, on the other hand, demonstrated both overwhelming power and the ability to temper it for the sake of others. He is not just strong; he is intelligent and heroic. He embodies the 'Plus Ultra' spirit itself. First place is his." The decision was final.
The days leading up to the start of school felt like a dream. I got my uniform, bought my school supplies, and tried to get used to my new reality. I was no longer just Tatsumi. I was a U.A. student, the first-ranked student. The weight of expectation felt heavy, especially since I still couldn't summon my power at will. I was about to enter the best hero school in the world with an ultimate weapon I couldn't manually activate. The irony was palpable.
On the first morning of school, I stood before the gates of U.A. once again. This time, I didn't feel like an imposter. I felt like a soldier about to enter a new battlefield. I walked through the vast corridors, finding a giant door with "1-A" emblazoned across it. 'Of course the door is this big,' I thought sourly, 'to accommodate all the egos inside.'
I took a deep breath, steadied my nerves, and pushed the door open. The scene inside was exactly as I remembered. Tenya Iida was scolding Katsuki Bakugo for having his feet on the desk. Izuku Midoriya stood frozen in the doorway behind me, trembling with nerves. I stepped inside, ignoring the commotion. My eyes instinctively scanned the room, analyzing my future classmates.
And then, my eyes stopped.
In a seat by the window sat a girl with a grace and composure that made her stand out amidst the chaos. She had long, jet-black hair tied into a thick, perfect ponytail. Her eyes, a deep onyx, were not engaged in the surrounding drama. Instead, they were looking straight at me. There was no awe or hostility in her gaze. It was a look that was calm, sharp, and filled with intelligent analysis. It was as if she were dissecting me, trying to understand how the first-ranked student could look so ordinary.
Momo Yaoyorozu.
She tilted her head slightly, a subtle gesture of curiosity. I simply held her gaze for a moment before finding an empty seat. But that first impression stuck with me. In a room full of explosive power and loud personalities, the quiet, analytical girl felt, somehow, like the most dangerous person of all. The school year hadn't even begun, and I already knew that my life at U.A. was going to be very interesting.