Ok so here's the deal after the vote I hit a bit of inspiration in making this and popped out a bunch of unedited chapters up to 16 . If this chapter gets at least 10 moments and the book gets a review by monday by like 4:00 est i'll release the USJ chapter by that night or tuesday instead of friday and i kinda went over board on that one and it could probably count as 2 or 3 whole chapters. So lets see if yall can do it good luck.
P.S. check out my new book its a fairytail/tensura + possible multivers travel if people like it so plz look
Izuku woke with the warm weight of Nerissa sprawled half on top of him, her cheek pressed against his chest, soft breaths brushing his skin. Momo and Shōko were tucked against his sides, each with an arm looped around him in a possessive, sleepy hold. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, brushing gold across tangled limbs and soft hair.
Nerissa stirred first, groaning. "Five more hours…"
Izuku tried not to laugh as she burrowed deeper against him, messy hair falling across his collarbone. She wasn't a morning person—everyone knew that—but something about her voice still made warmth spread through his chest.
Shōko blinked awake next, her ice-and-fire eyes soft and unfocused. She slid her arm tighter around Izuku's waist, her cheek finding his shoulder. "Morning," she murmured, voice low and still thick with sleep.
Momo woke last, stretching gently before she realized she was practically hugging Izuku's arm against her chest. A blush warmed her cheeks, but she didn't let go. She only adjusted her grip, more deliberate this time.
Izuku felt heat creep up his neck. Three gorgeous girls clinging to him first thing in the morning. This was his life now. Somehow. HE LOVED IT.
He swallowed. "We… we should get up."
Nerissa groaned and rolled onto him more fully, chin resting low on his chest. "I refuse."
Shōko opened one eye and smirked just a little. "She's going to fall back asleep if we don't move."
Momo giggled softly. "She already has."
Izuku looked down—Nerissa's eyes were indeed closed again. Dead asleep on his torso.
He sighed fondly. "Okay… let's do this gently."
It took ten minutes of soft nudging, sleepy whining, and Nerissa clinging like an octopus before they all managed to get out of bed and into their uniforms. Nerissa shuffled toward the door, still half-asleep, and latched onto Izuku's side the second he stepped into the hallway.
He nearly stumbled.
Her arm looped around his waist, cheek pressed to his shoulder, eyes half-shut. "Carry me," she mumbled.
"You can walk," he said, though he adjusted to her weight automatically.
"Rude," she muttered. "Boyfriend tax."
Momo walked on Izuku's right, brushing her fingers along his arm. "She's especially tired today."
Shōko walked just ahead of them, calm and quiet—but there was something about her steps, a gentle sway in her hips, the light shift of her skirt, that seemed… intentional.
Izuku's brain stalled.
She was definitely teasing him.
He tried not to stare, but Shōko glanced back at him just once, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as her eyes met his.
Nerissa groaned without lifting her head. "Shōko… stop flirting… too damn early…"
Momo hid a smile behind her hand. Izuku felt heat rush up his face, nearly tripping as Shōko's teasing walk continued just a moment longer before she straightened back to normal.
They made it to the cafeteria with Nerissa still plastered firmly to Izuku's side. He collected a breakfast tray one-handed while she clung to him like a sleepy sloth. They sat at their usual corner table—Izuku between Momo and Shōko, Nerissa across from him, head resting on folded arms.
Shōko leaned lightly into his shoulder.
Momo linked their arms together.
Nerissa stared at her pancakes like they had personally wronged her.
"You all look way too awake," she accused.
Shōko raised her tea. "We went to bed on time."
Nerissa glared weakly. "Traitors."
Izuku took a sip of his miso soup, still warm from having slept next to all of them. Momo smiled at him warmly. Shōko brushed her knee against his. Izuku felt comfortably overwhelmed.
Then Nerissa narrowed her eyes at him.
"You're smiling," she said accusingly.
"I—I'm just in a good mood."
"Suspicious." Nerissa leaned closer, pointing her fork at him. "What happened that made you all warm and happy this early?"
Izuku tried to hide his blush. "I just… slept really well."
Momo choked on her tea.
Shōko froze mid-bite.
Nerissa's jaw dropped.
"Oh we're teasing now?" she demanded.
Izuku forced a small smirk, still riding the confidence from the weekend. "Well… I didn't hear any of you complaining."
All three girls went red at once.
Nerissa slapped the table. "WHO—who gave you permission to be bold before coffee?!"
Shōko muttered, "I… like it."
Momo covered her face. "Izuku…"
Izuku took another sip of miso soup like nothing had happened, and the girls slowly started eating again—their blushes lasting much longer.
After breakfast, they walked toward their first class. Nerissa still leaned on Izuku like her life depended on it, eyes at half-mast.
"You're lucky I love you," she muttered.
"You sure?" he teased.
She groaned loudly. "Stop. You used to be shy. I liked it. This new confidence is… illegal."
"You seemed to enjoy it saturday."
Her face instantly flushed.
Momo blushed too.
Shōko stumbled over her own foot.
Izuku grinned and opened the classroom door for them.
The lecture hall was brighter than usual, morning sun spilling across the rows of seats in wide, warm stripes. Students filtered in with quiet chatter, settling low bags and stretching stiff shoulders. Izuku entered with Momo and Shōko at his sides, Nerissa trailing a step behind him with a sour expression that said she could kill morning itself if given a reason.
The room hushed slightly when Chase Rayland stepped through the door.
He moved slowly, but not weakly—leaning on his cane with the practiced familiarity of someone who had known pain for a very long time. His gray hair was tied back neatly, and his uniform vest was crisp despite looking decades older than the man underneath it should.
He looked ancient.
He looked tired.
He looked gentle.
The kind of teacher who would pat your shoulder and remind you to drink water before class. During dorm orientation, he'd been polite, soft-spoken, even warm. Nobody had seen him raise his voice or show anything but grandfatherly patience.
So when he reached the podium, students sat up straight out of instinctive respect. Izuku felt the atmosphere shift—quiet, steady, expectant.
Chase set his cane gently against the podium.
"Good morning," he said politely.
A chorus of "Good morning, Rayland-sensei" followed.
He nodded, clicked the projector remote, and a white slide lit up behind him.
Then his voice changed.
Not louder.
Not harsher.
Just sharper.
"Let's get one thing straight," Chase began. "This is not a class about learning your quirks. This is a class about learning what your quirks do—to you, and to everyone around you."
Several students stiffened, surprised by the shift in tone.
Chase pointed his cane at the slide.
Your quirk affects the world whether you want it to or not.
"You've all been trained to think of quirks as extensions of your will," Chase said. "But power doesn't read your intentions. Power doesn't care if you're trying to be gentle. Power affects everything within reach."
He tapped the cane once.
"Ojiro—your tail has the weight of a bowling ball. You turn too fast? Someone gets fractured ribs."
Ojiro swallowed.
"Mina—your sweat can melt steel. Doesn't matter if you're excited or scared."
Mina froze mid-giggle.
"Siji— you make stuff heavier, you drop something while excited and someone may lose a foot."
Siji stiffened.
Chase looked across the room, expression settling somewhere between stern and understanding.
"Your quirks don't need malice to cause harm. They just need a moment of inattention."
A silence spread through the rows.
"Which brings us to the other half of today's lesson: how your quirks affect you."
Chase lifted his hand.
It trembled slightly, skin thin and marked with faint lines like spiderweb cracks.
"This is damage caused by my quirk ," he said simply. "Not age. Not illness. Damage."
A ripple of unease moved through the class.
"I want two examples. One of you hurting yourselves. One hurting someone else.."
He let the silence hang—not long, but long enough.
Kirishima raised his hand first.
"When my quirk came in," he said, touching the small scar above his eyebrow, "I hardened my skin by accident. Rubbed my eye. Cut myself without realizing it. Scared me pretty bad."
Chase nodded once. "Good. Hardening changes surface density faster than nerves can adjust. Thank you."
Tokoyami raised his hand next.
"When Dark Shadow reacted to fear instead of command," Tokoyami said, "I nearly harmed a classmate. My quirk is tied to emotion—so if I lose control, he does too."
Dark Shadow drooped apologetically.
"Sorry…"
Chase nodded again. "Excellent example."
Chase nodded once—firm, approving in the simplest way.
"Good. That's the kind of honesty I want in this room."
He turned back toward the projector.
"And now," he said, clicking to the next slide, "let's talk about someone else's quirk."
The screen went black.
And then a photograph faded into view:
A young hero in navy and silver.
Lean muscle.
Bright, sharp eyes.
Confident smirk.
Wind at his back.
The hero name burned beneath the image:
TRACK STAR
The room was silent but thoughtful and curious.
He clicked to the next slide.
Quirk: Sprint Factor
"Before I explain anything else," Chase said, "can anyone guess what it does?"
A few hesitant hands rose—
Kirishima: "Super speed?"
Mina: "Fast reflexes?"
Iida: "Enhanced locomotion—"
Chase shook his head faintly.
"Close. But not close enough."
He clicked again.
"Sprint Factor increases his speed—movement, reflexes, everything—by fifty."
Another wave of disbelief rippled across the room.
"But quirks don't give without taking."
He pointed at the photo.
Chase didn't turn around.
"That was me."
The class froze.
"And this," Chase continued mildly, gesturing to his own worn frame, "is also me."
No one breathed.
"I was twenty-five here."
He pointed to himself.
"I'm thirty-nine now."
A stunned quiet filled the room.
And Chase gave a small, steady nod.
"I'm not telling you this to frighten you. I'm telling you because if you don't learn how your quirks affect you, you can end up like this—long before your life has even started."
He tapped the cane gently.
"Class dismissed."
The cafeteria carried a muted energy after Chase's class. Students spoke in softer voices than usual, their lunchtime chatter weighed down by the reality they'd been handed. Izuku and the girls sat at their normal table, joined by Kirishima and Sero, though everyone's trays settled with noticeably less enthusiasm.
Momo took her place on Izuku's right, brushing her fingers along the back of his hand in quiet reassurance. Shōko sat on his left, posture straight but gaze distant. Across from them Nerissa stabbed at her food with a level of intensity normally reserved for combat drills. Kirishima gave a strained grin.
"Man… Chase really went all in today."
"Yeah…" Sero muttered. "I didn't think quirks could do… that."
Even Mina and Kaminari, usually loud at the next table, seemed unusually subdued.
"It was difficult to hear," Shōko said at last. "But necessary."
"More like a slap in the face," Nerissa grumbled. "But a needed one."
Izuku listened half-heartedly, but the words felt distant—like Chase had opened a door in his mind that refused to close. Momo felt his shoulders tense and rested her hand gently over his.
"You're thinking too much again," she whispered.
"I…" he started, but the words fell apart.
He drifted inward.
"Quirks don't give without taking. Sometimes the cost hits you before you even understand it."
What was my cost?
Shadow Monarch always felt natural to me—heavy, draining at times, sure, but workable. I'd trained it constantly, tested everything: stamina drain, recovery speed, the way shadows responded. I knew the cost. Fatigue. Focus. Energy.
I could manage that.
And One For All…
That one was clear too.
Pain.
Strain.
Training until my body could withstand what it held.
The price was sweat and discipline.
But Chase's words had dug deeper.
Two quirks in one body.
Both are powerful.
Both rewriting me in different ways.
Shadow Monarch felt ancient, like something coiled quietly inside my chest.
And One For All burned—generations of power compressed into a single great flame.
What happens when both prices overlap?
When the rewrites conflict?
Or amplify each other?
What if my cost hasn't hit me yet?
What if it's waiting?
What if I can't—
"Izuku?"
Momo's voice snapped me back.
I blinked and looked up. Everyone at the table was staring.
"You drifted off," she said gently. "Are you alright?"
I opened my mouth to answer—
BWAAAAAAM! BWAAAAAAM!
The cafeteria exploded into chaos.
"UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY AT THE MAIN GATE.
STUDENTS REMAIN INDOORS."
Red lights flashed across the room. Chairs slammed back. Students screamed. Trays hit the floor. Panic surged in a wave as bodies shoved toward the doors, instinct drowning out reason.
"Villains?!" someone yelled.
"Move! Move!" another shouted.
Iida fought through the crowd, shouting orders no one heard.
Mina clutched her bag.
Sero swore under his breath.
Nerissa rose halfway from her seat, eyes narrowing.
Momo reached for my sleeve. "Izuku—"
But I didn't hear her.
The alarm blaring.
The bodies rushing.
Chase's warning echoing.
Everything crashed together.
And then—
Something inside my chest shifted.
Not fear.
Not panic.
A warm, steady pressure.
Not a voice, not a command—an emotion, firm and grounding, like a hand settling gently between my shoulders. A nudge.
Not controlling me.
Not overtaking me.
Just guiding me:
My breath slowed.
My pulse steadied.
The chaos dimmed as my focus sharpened.
I stood.
Shadows beneath my feet rose in soft tendrils.
And then, for a heartbeat, a faint crown shimmered above my head—an outline of dark flame-light, subtle, regal, pulsing once like a heartbeat.
But Momo's breath caught.
Shōko froze.
Nerissa's eyes widened.
The crown vanished as fast as it appeared.
I stepped forward.
I didn't shout.
I didn't force my voice.
I just spoke.
"Enough."
The word dropped into the room like a stone into water—quiet, calm, and heavy with something older than fear.
The cafeteria froze.
Heads turned.
Footsteps halted.
Voices died.
Everyone stared at me, breath held.
Shadows coiled faintly around my ankles.
"You are not children," I said, tone impossibly steady. "If this is something serious, panic is the fastest way to get someone hurt."
Not one person argued.
"We need to organize," I continued, voice level but carrying with unexpected weight. "Stay together. Stay away from the exits unless instructed otherwise. And be ready if something actually happens."
The shadows rippled lightly.
And everyone listened.
Instant, instinctive obedience.
Not fear.
Not intimidation.
Recognition.
For a moment… they followed me.
Then the warmth in my chest eased.
The shadows receded.
My heartbeat returned to normal.
And I felt like myself again.
Momo grabbed my wrist, eyes wide. "Your eyes—your shadows—"
Nerissa leaned forward. "You just command-voice'd the whole cafeteria."
Shōko studied me, intense and sharp. "Everyone listened."
I swallowed, breath shaking. "I… didn't mean to. It just… happened."
The speakers crackled back on.
"Press breach contained.
Reporters forced entry through the front gate.
All students remain indoors."
The sun had already dipped behind the dorms by the time Izuku finally made it back to his room. Classes were over, students had settled, and the chaos of the press breach felt like a distant echo in the quiet halls.
But he hadn't stopped thinking about it once.
A soft knock sounded on his door.
"It's us," Momo called gently.
He opened the door, and all three girls stepped inside—Momo, Shōko, Nerissa. They didn't say anything at first. They didn't have to. The look they all gave him said they'd been thinking about the cafeteria as much as he had.
Momo sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Shōko leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Nerissa perched on his desk chair, facing him.
Momo spoke first.
"Izuku… what happened today?"
He opened his mouth—then closed it again.
"I don't know," he admitted quietly.
Shōko's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your shadows moved on their own. Your voice… shifted. And there was something above you."
Izuku blinked. "Above me?"
Momo hesitated. "A shape. Faint, but real. Like… a crown."
He felt his breath catch.
A crown.
He didn't remember anything like that.
Nerissa leaned forward, expression softer than usual. "You didn't look possessed or out of control. You just… stepped into it. Like it fit you."
Izuku lowered his gaze to his hands.
"It didn't feel scary," he said. "Or wrong. It just felt… natural. Like I was being nudged into something I didn't know I was supposed to do."
The room fell quiet.
Not tense.
Not afraid.
Just thoughtful.
Momo touched his arm. "We trust you. But you should talk to someone about this. Maybe Chase. Maybe Aizawa."
Izuku nodded slowly, though uncertainty still tugged at him.
"Yeah," he said. "I… I will."
Izuku realized he still didn't know what had happened—
not really.
Not why the shadows had moved.
Not why everyone listened.
Not why a crown had appeared over his head.
And no matter how hard he tried…
He couldn't shake the feeling
that something inside him
was waking up.
Something he didn't understand yet.
Something that wasn't finished.