Chapter 70: Dreams of Concrete and the Search for the Absolute.
[Heights Alliance - Aokiji's Room - 6:00 AM]
Aokiji opened his eyes.
There was no alarm clock ringing. There was no butler knocking politely on the door. There were no assassins in the bushes.
He stared at the generic, white ceiling of the dorm room. For a moment, his body tensed, instinctively searching for a threat, for the cold pressure of his father's house or the lingering scent of smoke from Kamino.
But there was only the smell of... toast?
Crash. Thud.
"WALKING IN THE HALLS IS PROHIBITED! RUNNING IS WORSE!"
Aokiji blinked. The tension left his shoulders. He let out a long, groggy sigh.
"Too loud..." he mumbled, rolling over.
He dragged himself out of bed, his hair a mess of black spikes that defied gravity. He shuffled to the small sink in his room, grabbing his toothbrush. He squeezed the tube, eyes half-closed.
Crackle.
He squeezed too hard. The toothpaste didn't come out. He looked down. In his morning grumpiness, he had accidentally frozen the paste inside the tube into a solid minty icicle.
"Great," he muttered, tossing the frozen tube into the trash. "Off to a flying start."
The first floor of the Heights Alliance was a battlefield of morning routines.
Iida was chopping the air with his hands, directing traffic that didn't exist.
"Midoriya! Your tie is crooked! Presentation is key to a hero's mindset!"
"Yaoyorozu! Is that herbal tea? Excellent choice for mental clarity!"
In the kitchen, Bakugo was aggressively buttering toast as if the bread had personally offended him.
"EAT IT WHILE IT'S HOT, YOU DAMN EXTRAS!" he barked, shoving a plate at Kaminari.
"Thanks, Bakugo! You're surprisingly motherly!" Kaminari grinned.
"SHUT UP! I'LL KILL YOU!"
Aokiji shuffled into the room, wearing his U.A. uniform with the tie loose and the top button undone. He looked like a walking zombie.
"Morning, Kuzan!" Uraraka chirped, floating a plate of eggs over to the table. "Did you sleep well?"
Aokiji slumped into a chair, resting his chin on his good hand.
"I slept like a rock," he yawned. "Until the Class Rep decided to become a human siren."
The class laughed. It was a light, easy sound. There was no talk of villains. No talk of the crumbling society outside. Just eggs, toast, and the morning sun streaming through the high windows.
Aokiji looked at them. He took a bite of the toast Bakugo had practically thrown at him. It was perfectly crisp.
It's warm, he thought. This noise... it's better than the silence of the manor.
"Ultimate Moves."
Aizawa stood before them in Gym Gamma, a massive indoor facility filled with complex cement structures. He wasn't wearing his sleeping bag today. He looked sharp, serious.
"The Provisional License Exam is next week," Aizawa announced, his voice echoing in the vast space. "The passing rate is less than 50%. To pass, you cannot just rely on your quirks as they are. You need a signature weapon. A move that guarantees victory."
The class erupted into excitement. Cementoss (the Cement Hero) and Ectoplasm (the Clone Hero) stepped forward to assist with the training.
"Begin!"
The gym exploded into chaos. Bakugo was blasting pillars. Midoriya was bouncing off walls. Todoroki was freezing and burning simultaneously.
Aokiji stood before a massive concrete pillar. Ectoplasm's clone stood on top of it.
"Show me, Kuzan!" the clone shouted. "The power that held back a Demon Lord!"
Aokiji took a deep breath. He raised his right hand—the one that had been healed but still felt stiff. He tried to summon the massive wave, the "Ice Age" that could freeze an ocean.
Focus. Release.
A burst of cold air shot out. Ice crystallized rapidly, climbing the pillar.
But... it was slow.
It was jagged.
And it stopped halfway up.
A sharp pain shot through Aokiji's arm, a phantom echo of the thermal stress from Kamino. He winced, grabbing his wrist. The ice crumbled, falling to the floor like broken glass.
"Dammit," Aokiji whispered, staring at his shaking hand.
From the other side of the gym, Bakugo stopped his blasting. He watched the crumbling ice. He remembered the wall of glaciers Aokiji had summoned at the Sports Festival. He remembered the absolute zero at the camp.
This... this was nothing compared to that.
Bakugo gritted his teeth, smoke rising from his palms.
He broke himself, Bakugo thought, a heavy guilt settling in his gut. He burned out his circuits saving us.
"BAKUGO! EYES ON THE TARGET!" Ectoplasm shouted.
"SHUT UP, I KNOW!" Bakugo screamed back, blasting a rock to dust with unnecessary force.
Up on the observation deck, All Might and Aizawa watched the struggle.
"He's struggling," All Might observed, his skeletal face solemn. He leaned on the railing, watching Aokiji rub his arm.
"It's to be expected," Aizawa sighed, crossing his arms. "He went beyond 100% in Kamino. His body is in shock. His quirk pathways are traumatized. He's in a hard reset."
"Will he be okay?" All Might asked.
"I don't know," Aizawa admitted, his eyes narrowing. "He sat on the peak of the mountain for so long, looking down on everyone. Now... he's tumbled all the way to the bottom of the class. The psychological hit might be harder than the physical one."
"I need upgrades."
Aokiji stood at the entrance of the Support Course workshop. Before he could finish his sentence—
BOOM!
The metal door blew off its hinges. Smoke billowed out.
From the smoke emerged a girl with pink dreadlocks and grease-covered goggles.
"FAILURE IS THE MOTHER OF SUCCESS!" she screamed maniacally.
Mei Hatsume locked onto Aokiji. Her zoom-eyes dilated.
"Oho! A Class 1-A specimen! And you're the Ice Guy! I saw you on TV! You looked cool, literally!"
"Uh, yeah," Aokiji stepped back. "I need something to help regulate my body temperature. The drawback is getting worse."
"Regulate? SAY NO MORE!"
Hatsume was suddenly in his personal space. Too close.
She began poking his chest, his arms, and his shoulders with oily fingers, measuring his muscle density.
"Hmm! Hmm! Excellent chassis! If we install thermal vents here... and a bypass circuit here..."
Aokiji froze—literally. A layer of frost covered his face from sheer social awkwardness.
"Too close," he squeaked.
"Hatsume! Please maintain a respectful distance!" Iida chopped the air frantically from the doorway, his face red. "This is inappropriate conduct!"
"Silence, Speed-Boy! Art is happening!" Hatsume ignored him, already welding a piece of metal.
The moon hung high over the Heights Alliance. The dorms were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the garden lights.
Aokiji walked out onto the terrace, holding a can of cold coffee against his cheek.
He heard a sound from the courtyard below.
Swish. Thud. Swish. Thud.
He looked down. Izuku Midoriya was there, sweating profusely, practicing high kicks against a training dummy. He was moving differently—less focus on his arms, more flow in his legs. The "Shoot Style."
Aokiji watched for a moment, then hopped over the railing, sliding down a ramp of ice to the ground level.
"You're working late," Aokiji said.
Midoriya jumped, startled, then relaxed when he saw who it was.
"Kuzan-kun. Yeah... I need to catch up. Everyone is evolving so fast."
Aokiji leaned against a tree, popping the tab on his coffee.
"You're moving better," Aokiji noted. "Less rigid. It suits you."
Midoriya smiled, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Thanks. I'm trying to find a style that doesn't break my body."
Aokiji looked up at the stars. He took a sip of coffee.
"I bet I'm weaker than you now," he said casually.
Midoriya froze. "Eh? W-What are you talking about? You're arguably the strongest in the class!"
"Was," Aokiji corrected him, a small, self-deprecating smile on his lips. "You saw me today. I couldn't even freeze a single pillar. My output is garbage. My control is shaky."
He looked at his hand.
"I think I finally understand a fraction of what you went through, Midoriya. The pain of having power but not being able to use it. The frustration."
Midoriya walked closer, his expression serious.
"But seeing you..." Aokiji continued, looking at the green-haired boy. "Seeing you crawl from the bottom, breaking your bones and still moving forward... it makes me want to try. I can't just be a prodigy anymore."
Midoriya's eyes shined. "So... you're not giving up?"
Aokiji chuckled. "To save my family, I broke every limit I had. I fell off the mountain after standing on the peak. It makes sense."
He pushed off the tree, standing straight.
"But I'll climb back up. And this time..."
"THIS TIME, WE CLIMB TOGETHER, DAMN IT!"
A rough voice barked from the shadows.
Bakugo stepped out from behind a bush, looking annoyed that he had been caught listening.
"Don't think you can slack off just because you're hurt, Icy! I'm dragging you to the top if I have to!"
"I won't let either of you get ahead of me."
Todoroki emerged from the other side, his face calm but determined.
Then, from the terrace above, more voices chimed in.
"Yeah! We're all in this!" Kirishima shouted down.
"Do your best, Kuzan!" Yaoyorozu called out elegantly.
Aokiji looked up. Half the class was on the balcony, watching them. They weren't judging his weakness. They were waiting for him.
Aokiji felt a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with temperature.
This is it, he thought, closing his eyes and smiling—a genuine, unburdened smile.
This is the warmth I was looking for. I don't have to carry the sky alone anymore.
"Alright," Aokiji said, raising his coffee can in a toast to the moon and his friends. "Let's go get those licenses."
.
.