Thirty days remained before graduation, and each one bled into the next like frames from a slow-motion reel. The school felt quieter to Izuku now. He still sat by the window, still took notes nobody asked for, but the air around him seemed to hum faintly. Pens quivered on his desk when he lost focus. Screws in nearby chairs twitched to the beat of his heart.
He hid the signs well. Every twitch of metal around him reminded him that his life had changed, and he didn't want anyone least of all Bakugo to see.
At Home with Inko
At home, Inko Midoriya noticed the change in him almost immediately. "Sweetheart," she said one morning, peering over the counter as he shoveled rice into his mouth, "you're eating faster than usual. Are you… training again?"
Izuku paused, chopsticks hovering. "Uh… yeah," he said, almost shyly. "Just… trying to get stronger."
Inko leaned against the counter, arms crossed, studying him with a small, thoughtful smile. "You know, you don't have to do it all at once. You've been pushing yourself a lot lately. Are you feeling… okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom," he muttered, looking down at his plate. "It's… just practice. I want to be ready for… things." "Things?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Do you mean… school stuff? Or… hero stuff?"
Izuku hesitated, then shrugged. "A little of both, I guess. I just… I need to get better."
Inko came around the counter and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You know I worry about you, right? Not because I don't trust you… but because I know how hard you push yourself. I just… want you to remember you're still my son, not a machine. You have to take care of yourself too."
Izuku nodded quietly. "I know, Mom. I just feel like I finally have a chance to do something right, for once. I don't want to waste it."
Inko smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "And I'm proud of you, Izuku. You got… a powerful quirk now. That's amazing. But please… don't push yourself too hard just because you can. Your body, your mind—they're just as important as your power."
He felt a warmth spread through him, a mix of relief and encouragement. "I'll try, Mom. Thanks…" She ruffled his hair gently. "Good. Now finish your breakfast before it gets cold. And don't forget heroes need their strength, but moms make sure they survive to use it."
Izuku chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah… I got it."
Each evening, after homework and dinner, Izuku slipped out for walks that led him toward Dagobah Beach a forgotten strip of coast buried under decades of rusted appliances and twisted metal. The place called to him. When he stepped onto the sand, he could feel the wreckage beneath, like a buried heartbeat.
At first he only watched the waves of scrap, listening to the soft ticking of bolts shifting with the tide. Then he started to practice.
A tin can rose an inch. A bent pipe rolled toward him. He learned to breathe with it slow inhale, steady exhale until the magnetic pull obeyed his thoughts.
One afternoon, the calm of Musutafu shattered. A minor villain an enormous, rhino-like brute with concrete-hard skin was charging through the shopping district like a living tank. Each step rattled the pavement, and when he hit anything solid, it splintered or crumpled. Windows exploded, benches splintered, and terrified pedestrians scrambled to safety.
From across the street, Eijiro Kirishima saw the chaos and ran toward it. His heart hammered, but he didn't hesitate. As the villain barreled through, a car spun wildly from the impact, hurtling toward a nearby child frozen on the sidewalk.
"Hey! Get out of the way!" Kirishima shouted, sprinting faster. With a yell, he braced himself and hardened into crimson stone, planting his feet like a wall in front of the spinning car to protect the child.
The villain slammed into him with the force of a runaway train. The impact rattled Kirishima to his knees, but he gritted his teeth and held firm, letting his hardened body absorb the collision. Sparks flew from crushed metal. Car doors crumpled against him. And still, he stood, shielding the street behind him.
The villain reared back to charge again, a snorting, unstoppable juggernaut. "You think a kid like you can stop me?!" he bellowed.
Kirishima grinned through the strain. "Guess we're about to find out!"
The villain lunged once more, and Kirishima took the hit head-on, sliding across the asphalt but never breaking his guard. He rolled back to his feet, blood trickling from a small cut on his lip. He wasn't winning but he wasn't backing down either.
Then, a deafening BOOM split the air.
"TEXAS SMASH!"
Wind erupted from All Might's arrival, sending debris flying. The villain was hurled backward into a light pole, unconscious before he hit the ground.
When the dust cleared, All Might stood tall, cape billowing, sunlight gleaming behind him. The crowd cheered, but his focus was on Kirishima kneeling protectively over the street and nearby pedestrians.
Kirishima breathed heavily as the crimson hardness faded from his skin. "A-All Might… sir… nobody's hurt…"
All Might approached, his massive frame calm but commanding. "You didn't hesitate. Most people would've waited or fled. But you moved. You protected them, even when you knew you could get hurt."
Kirishima rubbed his neck, embarrassed. "I… just saw someone in danger."
All Might smiled. "That's what true heroism looks like. It's not power it's instinct. It's heart."
He placed a hand on Kirishima's shoulder. "You've got the makings of something great, young man." Kirishima blinked, unsure how to respond. "T-thank you, sir."
By the time reporters arrived, the two were already gone. No one saw what followed—no cameras, no interviews. Only the faint echo of All Might's laughter fading into the wind, and a red-haired boy changed forever.
The Gym & the Meeting
Days passed. Izuku's nightly training left his arms sore and his palms raw. To build real strength, he joined a local gym near the coast cheap, half-broken equipment, but plenty of weights.
That's where he met him properly.
Kirishima was there alone, towel around his neck, hair tied back, pumping iron and grinning between reps. "Hey, man, you're here early every day. You trying to get ripped too?"
Izuku flushed, adjusting his shirt. "Uh… yeah. I'm training for UA. The entrance exam's in ten months, so I want to get as ready as I can."
Kirishima's grin widened. "No way! Me too! I'm training for the exam as well. Guess we've got the same goal, huh?"
Izuku hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I'm… Izuku."
As they lifted together, the air filled with the clanging of weights and their synchronized breathing. Kirishima went first, slamming a barbell overhead. "It's crazy… we're both pushing for the same thing, and we just met. I like that. Makes the burn easier to deal with, right?"
Izuku smiled faintly. "Yeah… it's… motivating. I've always thought I had to get stronger on my own, but… having someone to train with makes a difference."
Kirishima nodded. "Exactly! Working together pushes you harder, and it's way more fun. Plus, we can share tips and keep each other on track."
They laughed, lifted, and spotted each other, swapping training tips, sharing their dreams of becoming heroes, and admitting their nervousness about UA's entrance exam.
By the end of the session, both of them were dripping with sweat, muscles screaming, but there was a shared sense of accomplishment. They racked the weights and stretched on the mat, leaning back and catching their breath.
"You know," Kirishima said, laughing as he tossed his towel over his shoulder, "I think we're gonna make it. UA's gonna be tough, but I feel like… we got a shot. Together."
Izuku smiled, feeling a rare warmth. "Yeah. Together."
From that day on, they made it a routine—lifting together, running drills, sharing their fears and goals. Each evening ended with them walking back along the streets toward their respective homes, talking quietly about hero work, their quirks, and the daydreams they had once kept hidden.
It wasn't just the workouts that were building them stronger it was the friendship forming between reps and sweat, one that promised they wouldn't have to face UA or the challenges ahead alone