"Quirk Assessment Test?!" several students shout.
Ochako protests, "Wait—what about the entrance ceremony? The orientation?"
Aizawa turns his back to them as if already bored.
"If you're going to become heroes, you don't have time for leisurely events. U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are."
He glances over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded.
"That's also how the teachers run their classes."
He turns halfway toward them. "You kids have been doing these since junior high, right?"
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone—a list of tests displayed clearly.
"Physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your Quirks."
He taps the screen, scrolls lazily.
"The country still uses averages taken from results from students who took the tests without Quirks… it's not rational."
He slips the phone back into his pocket,
"Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating."
His gaze shifts to a particular spiky-haired student.
"Bakugo. You finished at the top of the practical exam, right?"
Most of the class turns toward him.
"In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?"
Bakugo thinks for a second. "Sixty-seven meters."
"Then try it with your Quirk."
Aizawa tosses him a softball. Bakugo catches it, and Aizawa points toward the throwing circle.
"You can do whatever you want, as long as you stay inside the circle."
Bakugo stares at him for a beat.
"Hurry up," Aizawa adds. "Give it all you've got."
Bakugo stretches his arm once.
"Then… well…"
He steps into the stance, pulls his arm back—and as he releases, he fires a blast that rockets the ball into the sky.
"DIE!"
The shockwave thunders across the field. Even after the noise dies down, smoke trails upward.
Aizawa barely reacts.
"Know your own maximum first."
A soft chime draws his attention to his phone. He checks the result, then turns to face the class, lifting the screen for all to see.
[705.2 m]
Gasps ripple through the group.
"Seven hundred—seriously?"
"That's insane…"
"We can use our Quirks as much as we want? That's awesome!"
"As expected of the hero course!"
Aizawa's voice cuts through their excitement—cold enough to snap it in half.
"Looks fun, huh?"
The confusion spreads instantly as their excitement drains.
"You have three years to become heroes. Are you planning to keep that attitude the whole time?"
A thin, unsettling smile touches his face.
"All right. Whoever comes in last place across all eight tests will be judged to have no potential…"
He pushes a hand through his hair, eyes narrowing.
"…and will be punished with expulsion."
"HUH?!" most of the class erupts.
Aizawa continues as if he didn't hear them.
"We are free to handle our students however we see fit."
His expression shifts into that odd, tired smirk.
"Welcome to U.A.'s hero course."
Ochako protests immediately, voice rising in disbelief.
"Last place will be expelled?! But it's the first day of school! No—no, even if it wasn't the first day, that's way too unfair!"
Aizawa doesn't even blink.
"Natural disasters. Major accidents. Selfish villains."
His tone remains flat, but the meaning lands heavy.
"Calamities with no warning. Japan is covered in unfairness."
He stares at them with his tired eyes.
"Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations."
Ochako opens her mouth again—but Aizawa cuts her off.
"If you wanted to chat with your friends at Mickey D's after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. will do everything it can to throw hardship after hardship at you."
He lifts one finger and crooks it in a lazy beckoning gesture.
"Go beyond. Plus Ultra."
A beat.
"Overcome it with all you've got."
That line hits the class harder than his threat.
Somewhere in the group, Kirishima cracks his knuckles, lips tugging into a sharp grin.
'Hardship, huh? Sounds manly.'
Sero stretches his arms overhead with an uneasy laugh.
'Expulsion on day one? This is nuts… but kind of exciting.'
Ayaka plants her hands on her hips, golden eyes bright.
'Eight tests? Easy. I'll crush them.'
Aizawa watches their reactions with mild boredom.
"All right. Demonstration's over. The real thing starts now."
|| Test 1: 50-Metre Dash ||
Asui and Iida walk up to the starting line. Both settle into their stances, the robot beside them chiming politely.
[On your mark…
Get set…
GO!]
Iida rockets forward like a missile, dust swirling violently behind him. His engines echo across the track until he crosses the finish line.
The robot at the end calls out:
[Tenya Iida: 3.04 seconds]
Aizawa, standing further down the track with hands in pockets, nods once.
"Well, he's like a fish in water.
It'll be worth seeing what the others do."
His lips tug upward—barely noticeable.
"I look forward to their reactions."
Asui hops forward in long, powerful frog-like leaps, covering meters effortlessly before landing across the finish line.
[Tsuyu Asui: 5.58 seconds]
Next up are Ochako and Yaoyorozu.
Ochako touches her shirt and shoes, taking a steadying breath.
"I'll… lighten my clothes and shoes," she murmurs to herself, focusing.
Behind her, red motes spark to life around Yaoyorozu's back. A second later—fwip—an identical jetpack to the one she created during the entrance exam forms into place.
Ochako spins around, nearly stumbling.
'Where did that come from?!'
Yaoyorozu simply offers a polite nod, expression perfectly calm.
The robot signals:
[On your mark…
Get set…
GO!]
The jetpack ignites instantly—Yaoyorozu shoots down the track in a controlled burst, landing smoothly as the robot logs her time:
[Momo Yaoyorozu: 2.90 seconds]
A few seconds later, Ochako drifts across the line, light on her feet but panting.
[Ochako Uraraka: 7.15 seconds]
Mina and a blonde kid with a sparkling aura—Aoyama—step up to the starting line.
Mina settles into a proper runner's stance.
Aoyama, meanwhile, stands with his back to the track, chin tilted upward dramatically as if addressing an invisible audience.
"Everyone," he announces, "you are not being creative enough."
The robot begins its countdown.
[On your mark…]
Aoyama continues without a hint of awareness.
"I shall show you what it means to shine—"
[Get set…
GO!]
He leaps, firing a bright, glittering laser from the belt around his waist. The blast launches him halfway across the course—until the light sputters out, instantly losing power.
He drops face-first onto the track with a graceless thump.
Mina speeds past him without missing a beat.
Aoyama scrambles upright and fires another laser, but by the time he glides the remaining distance, Mina is already standing at the finish line.
[Mina Ashido: 5.10 seconds]
[Yuga Aoyama: 5.51 seconds]
Aoyama plants his hands on his hips, turning slightly to cast a dramatic look over his shoulder.
"If I shoot for more than one second," he declares proudly, "I get a stomach-ache."
Mina and every student who hears that think the exact same thing:
'What the heck.'
Next Pair — Bakugo vs. Midoriya
The two walk to the starting line.
Midoriya's heart pounds in his ears.
'Okay. Stay calm. Controlled output. Don't slip. Don't shatter anything. Just—just run. Kacchan is going to blow past me but that's fine, that's fine—no, wait, focus, focus—'
The robot signals:
[On your mark…
Get set…
GO!]
Bakugo explodes forward instantly, palms sparking behind him as he yells:
"EXPLOSIVE SPEED!"
Bursts of fire propel him faster and faster until he tears across the finish line.
[Katsuki Bakugo: 4.13 seconds]
He skids to a stop, turning just in time to hear—
[Izuku Midoriya: 4.29 seconds]
Bakugo's head snaps around.
Midoriya stands calmly at the finish line, breathing a little harder but completely uninjured.
'What the hell?! What did Deku do?! What the hell did he do?!'
Bakugo takes one aggressive step toward Midoriya—
—but Iida and Ochako rush over first.
"Midoriya! That was incredible!" Iida exclaims, chopping the air in disbelief.
"You maintained form the entire way—no signs of injury!"
Ochako looks him over, stunned.
"W-wait… you didn't break anything this time? At all?"
Midoriya rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"A-ah… yeah. I've been practicing. A lot."
Aizawa, watching from the side, narrows his eyes.
He had seen the entrance exam footage. The kid had practically destroyed his entire arm.
Seeing Midoriya move this fast—cleanly—catches him completely off guard.
'That problem child… he's already stabilizing his output? That quickly?'
He doesn't say anything, but the slight lift of his brow shows his surprise.
Midoriya continues talking with Iida and Ochako for a moment—until he pauses.
He glances toward the group of students waiting behind the line.
His eyes stop on Izumi.
Izumi offers a small, quiet smile—and nods.
Midoriya blinks, then nods back before Ochako pulls his attention again with another round of praise.
Aizawa finally speaks.
"Enough socializing. Get back to your spots."
The students scatter quickly.
The Remaining pairs line up one after another:
Kirishima pushes off with full strength, teeth bared in a fierce grin.
Sero runs with long strides, tape dispensers rattling lightly.
Jirō keeps her pace steady, earjacks bouncing.
Kaminari overdoes the first step, nearly trips, then recovers with a laugh.
Tokoyami runs with silent discipline.
Shoji's heavy steps thud rhythmically.
Sato breathes deeply, keeping his pace even and controlled.
Hagakure's time is tracked only by the sound of her shoes slapping the track.
Aizawa watches each student, filing away every detail with sharp, assessing eyes.
Final Pair — Izumi Adachi & Ayaka Adachi
The last two students step toward the starting line.
Izumi Adachi.
Ayaka Adachi.
Both siblings face forward as the murmur of the class quiets slightly behind them.
Ayaka smiles deviously as she tilts her head toward Izumi.
"I'll let you win. Since, you know… we've got an audience."
Izumi doesn't even bother looking at her.
"Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Ayaka scoffs, flicking his shoulder as she steps into position.
Yaoyorozu watches the twins with a helpless sigh.
"They really… don't stop, do they?"
Midoriya, however, is fully focused on the starting line—shoulders tense, eyes bright.
Ochako, noticing, leans closer.
"You look… weirdly excited. Do you know them?"
"I know Izumi," Midoriya replies. "I've never met Ayaka."
Iida, standing beside them, adjusts his glasses.
"Are they strong, Midoriya? Their demeanour suggests considerable ability."
Midoriya nods once, still watching the track.
Behind them, Bakugo clicks his tongue.
"Heh."
[On your mark…]
Izumi drops into a low runner's stance—hands on the ground, body coiled like a spring.
White-blue lightning crackles around him, crawling across his arms and legs in sharp flickers.
Ayaka doesn't crouch. She simply leans forward, one foot set, posture casual… too casual.
Kirishima squints.
"Electricity?"
[Get set…]
Aizawa's eyes track the twins with familiarity. His mouth twitches—almost a grin, almost annoyance.
'Brace yourselves, kids. They're gonna hit like a freight train.'
He lifts his scarf to cover his mouth.
[G—]
A flash detonates at the starting line—pure white, blinding, gone in less than a breath.
The twins vanish.
Not "run."
Vanish.
BOOOOOOM—!!
A concussive sonic shock tears across the field.
A circular blast blows outward, kicking up dust, shaking the ground, hammering into the students' uniforms.
Ochako stumbles back—almost falling—before Midoriya grabs her arm, steadying her.
"Th-thanks!"
Several kids shout.
"What the hell?!" Kaminari yells, nearly jumping.
"That felt like a bomb!" Kirishima winces, hands over ears.
"Was that him?!" Mina cries.
Nobody saw the sprint.
There was no sprint to see.
Only a torn path of compressed air flooding the lane.
[…sensor overload…]
Everyone turns toward the finish-line robot.
Izumi stands there calmly—lightning simmering down, dust rolling past him.
Ayaka stands beside him wearing the same smug, sharp smile she had at the starting line… as if she never moved at all.
[Recalibrating… recalibrating…]
The class stares—wide-eyed, stunned.
Sero: "Bro… that wasn't running. That was—whatever that was."
Jirō presses a hand against her earphone jack. "That boom actually clipped my audio sensors…"
Tokoyami narrows his eyes. "Speed that erases the moment of motion… how ominous."
Midoriya finally exhales, his heart racing.
'The speed he used yesterday wasn't anywhere near this…'
A voice breaks his focus.
"They're impressive, aren't they?"
Yaoyorozu steps forward, lowering the scarf around her shoulders and pulling off a pair of goggles.
Everyone turns to her with one universal thought:
'When did she even put those on?!'
The robot finishes stabilizing.
[Izumi Adachi: 0.018 Seconds]
[Ayaka Adachi: 0.042 Seconds]
The field goes silent.
Then—
"What?!"
"No way!"
"That's illegal, right?!"
Aizawa rubs his forehead behind the scarf.
'Today was going to be a long day.'
Mina throws both hands up.
"Wait—no, seriously—Ayaka, how did you cross it?! Do you have super-speed too?!"
Yaoyorozu steps in calmly.
"No. She didn't run. The robot calculates based on perceived displacement. Ayaka's movement was a single step… but the space around her folded."
Ayaka gives her an innocent smile.
"I prefer the term shortcut."
Aizawa, standing off to the side, cuts in flatly, pulling everyone's attention.
"Her quirk is a measurement outlier. The number is meaningless."
Izumi and Ayaka walk back toward the group, lightning finally gone from Izumi's body.
Ayaka gives Aizawa a polite smile.
"I hope the data was still useful, Mr. Aizawa."
"It's… something," he says, sounding like he already needs a nap.
Immediately, a swarm of students surrounds the twins—asking questions, talking over each other, poking, pointing, buzzing with noise.
A few students hang back.
Shoto stays quiet, arms folded, watching them with a neutral but intent expression.
Yaoyorozu simply smiles as she observes the crowd forming around the twins—almost proud, almost amused.
Bakugo stands rigid, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white.
"Tch… who cares?" he mutters. "Speed doesn't mean anything if you can't hit me."
His eyes never leave them. His jaw locks tighter.
'That wasn't normal speed.
That wasn't even close to normal.
How the hell are they this strong at this age?'
A bead of sweat slides down his back.
It pisses him off immediately.
'No. Forget that.
I'm not letting some randoms take number one.
That spot is mine.'
His glare sharpens—less like he wants to fight them, more like he's already decided he will.
Aizawa finally exhales and rubs his face.
"Alright, everyone. Back to your places. We're moving to the next test."
Transition to the gym starts as they file back inside. The noise of the hallway is filled with footsteps, murmuring, and the lingering buzz from the earlier shockwave.