Hey lads.
Another chapter for y'all.
Hope you all love it! But only one way to find out if it's good.
Yes, you said it! By reading it!
MAUUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH
….
Ignore my eccentric self.
Enjoy to your heart's content.
Start:
The gym buzzed with anticipation as the class waited inside the gymnasium.
Mirko had disappeared into the locker room after announcing the spars, leaving the students to nervously wait for what was coming next. The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of conversation filling the room as they waited.
When she returned, the room fell silent.
She had ditched her usual hero gear, now barefoot, carrying her steel boots over one shoulder with ease.
But that wasn't what made every single person freeze.
It was everything else.
Her long silver hair, once free-flowing, was now tied into a high ponytail, which did wonders for her stunning heart-shaped face, with crimson eyes, a cute button nose, moist pink lips, the gentle curvature of her jaw, all these features meshing together well to create what was without a doubt a bewitching visage.
Everything below the neck was just as attractive.
She wore a tank top, a snug black fabric that clung to her toned midsection, and did little to conceal the sheer size of her chest. Her large, heavy breasts strained against the material, pressing outwards, creating a deep, entrancing valley of brown cleavage.
As one allowed their gaze to drift downward, they'd see Mirko's thick, muscular thighs and her wide, curvy hips hugged by skin-tight black leggings.
Some of the female students felt unconscious of their own looks as they compared themselves to Mirko, and the male students were affected in a more…primal way.
Naruto, who had seen a literal goddess in the form of Kaguya, couldn't help but think that it was Mirko who was really deserving of the title Rabbit Goddess. And suddenly, he felt a familiar sensation settle in his chest.
Well, shit.
I've fallen in love all over again.
Mirko tossed her boots aside, stepping onto the mat. Her bare feet pressed into the floor, grounded, ready.
Her crimson gaze swept across the class, her lips curling into a grin.
"Alright, brats. I've kept you all waiting long enough." she called, voice sharp and unwavering. "But before we do this, let me say this. Once we're done, all of you will need a trip to recovery girl because I'm not going to mess around. I need to know whether any of you should train to become a hero or not."
"And quite frankly, it's not about how skilled you are with your quirk, though that certainly helps, but about whether I deem any of you to be hero material, to be the kind of person who would push themselves to overcome against them and do what is needed." Mirko eyed them neutrally before she spoke again. "Now first up—Ojiro. Everyone else, go to the bleachers and watch."
Ojiro walked towards her, while the entire class backed away headed to where they were told.
Surprisingly enough, Ojiro wasn't nervous. If anything, he was eager. This was a test of skill, of endurance—not power.
He bowed respectfully before lowering his stance, his tail swaying behind him, muscles tensed like a coiled spring.
Mirko just grinned, her crimson eyes gleaming with excitement. "Whenever you're ready, kid."
Ojiro moved instantly. His tail lashed out, a quick sweeping strike aimed at her ankles.
Mirko hopped over it effortlessly, her feet barely leaving the ground before landing back into position.
But Ojiro was already pivoting.
A spinning back kick shot toward her ribs—
She twisted out of range, sidestepping smoothly.
He adjusted on the fly, flipping his tail over his shoulder and aiming for her jaw.
Mirko ducked under it, her movements silky smooth.
She wasn't just dodging—she was reading him.
Ojiro gritted his teeth.
He sped up.
A barrage of tail strikes lashed at her, weaving unpredictably, targeting her ribs, her knees, her head.
She dodged everything.
Not a single strike connected.
Ojiro pressed harder, his footwork sharp, his strikes flowing seamlessly into one another—each one more refined, more precise.
He whipped his tail forward, forcing her back—then pivoted sharply, twisting into a downward heel kick.
For the first time—Mirko blocked.
Her forearm shot up, catching his kick midair.
Ojiro's eyes widened.
Before he could react—
Mirko struck.
A vicious elbow slammed into his stomach.
"Kuh—!"
The air rushed from his lungs, pain exploding in his gut.
Mirko didn't let him breathe.
She followed up—
A lightning-fast knee to his ribs.
A sharp backhand across his cheek.
A brutal leg sweep.
Ojiro crashed onto his back, his vision swimming.
He gritted his teeth, rolling away instinctively before springing back up.
One minute left.
He launched himself forward, his tail coiling like a whip.
A rapid series of jabs flew toward her face—
Mirko bobbed her head side to side, slipping past them all.
Ojiro stepped in deep, feinted high, then snapped his tail toward her legs.
Mirko caught it.
Ojiro's breath hitched.
Before he could react—
She yanked him forward—
And drove her knee into his stomach.
"Ghh—!"
Pain exploded through his abdomen, his knees buckling.
She grinned.
"Nice try, kid."
Then, with one final spin—
She SLAMMED him into the mat.
BAM!
The impact rattled the floor.
Ojiro lay sprawled, chest heaving, body aching.
Mirko stepped back, crossing her arms. "Two minutes passed, now get up and head to the bleachers."
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Sato, who had been the next one called, rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles, his entire frame bulging with muscle. The sugar-rush coursed through his veins, filling him with raw, unfiltered power. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. This was it.
Mirko smirked, rolling her wrists. "Alright, big guy. Let's see if all that muscle means anything."
The moment she gave the signal—
Satou charged.
A monstrous right hook flew toward Mirko's face.
She tilted her head, letting it pass by an inch.
Satou spun into a left cross—
She leaned back, avoiding it with effortless grace.
He didn't slow down.
Another punch. Then another. And another.
His fists tore through the air, each one powerful enough to shatter concrete.
Mirko weaved through them all.
She bobbed, sidestepped, dipped under his swings, her movements fluid, untouchable.
Satou gritted his teeth.
Fine. If punches wouldn't work—
He lunged, attempting to grapple her, his arms shooting out like steel clamps.
Mirko twisted away, his fingers grazing nothing but air.
Satou spun, throwing an elbow toward her ribs.
She caught it.
A single casual parry, redirecting his strike to the side.
Satou growled in frustration. She wasn't even fighting back.
Another hook.
Dodged.
A quick jab.
Slipped.
A hammer blow.
Blocked.
He tried **everything—**feints, rapid swings, grappling, even a wild spinning backfist—
Mirko dodged them all effortlessly.
Her expression?
Bored.
Satou's breathing grew heavier, his muscles burning. One minute had passed.
"She's playing with him," Kaminari murmured, eyes wide.
"Is she gonna be like this with all of us?" Hagakure shivered.
Back to the sparring pair, Satou, panting, took a desperate step forward and launched a final, full-powered haymaker.
Mirko blocked it—casually.
Her forearm met his knuckles with a loud crack.
Satou winced.
And that's when he realized.
Her stance had shifted. Her weight was no longer on the backfoot. She wasn't dodging anymore. She was about to hit back.
Oh shit!
Satou's eyes widened.
CRACK!
A devastating kick to his ribs, immediately, the wind blasted out of his lungs.
He staggered.
BAM!
A quick, brutal punch to his stomach and he gagged, nearly doubling over.
Mirko smirked. "Tough, huh?"
She stepped in.
SLAM!
An elbow drove into his sternum, knocking him back.
His vision blurred.
And to keep up with the trend…
WHAM!
A backfist across his jaw. Something cracked.
Satou stumbled sideways, pain roaring through his body.
Then she moved in for the finish.
A devastating kick to his legs—
Satou collapsed onto one knee, coughing violently.
Mirko loomed over him.
To the onlooker watching, this was beyond painful, and more than just a little terrifying as many stared with wide trembling eyes.
And for Naruto… he couldn't help but make gooey eyes as the woman he loved portrayed herself as a Goddess of War and Fertility.
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Momo stepped onto the mat, her shoulders squared, her breathing even. She had already strategized multiple battle scenarios in her head, knowing that she wouldn't get the luxury of preparation. She didn't waste time—her skin shimmered as she created a bo-staff, gripping it firmly.
Mirko grinned at the choice.
"Good. You'll need it."
Then—she attacked.
Mirko didn't wait, didn't give her a second to adjust—she lunged.
Momo barely brought her staff up in time to deflect the first kick aimed at her ribs.
CRACK!
The sheer force of the impact vibrated through her arms, forcing her a step back.
A second kick followed, a high roundhouse aimed for her temple.
Momo ducked.
Too slow.
Mirko twisted mid-air, heel crashing into her shoulder.
BAM!
Momo staggered, her grip on the staff tightening as she rolled away. Her body already ached. The fight had just started.
Mirko smirked, already rushing in again.
Quickly righting herself, Momo planted her feet, spinning her bo-staff in a blur, striking three times in quick succession—
Mirko dodged them all.
Her rabbit-like agility was inhuman.
Momo gritted her teeth. Fine. Time to resort to one of her aces.
She twisted away, giving herself a brief second of distance before she reached into her belt—
FLASHBANG!
A bright detonating burst erupted across the gym.
The class squinted against the explosion of light, and for the first time, it seemed like Momo had gotten the upper hand.
But Mirko—
Mirko charged straight through it.
Eyes wide open.
"Shit—!" Momo barely raised her weapon in time—Mirko was already there.
A devastating right hook smashed into Momo's ribs. A sharp crack sounded.
Momo coughed, pain exploding in her side, blood spitting from her lips.
The class winced.
Mirko didn't let up.
She struck again—a brutal knee to the gut.
Momo gasped, her body folding in on itself as Mirko followed up with a spinning kick to the face that sent her flying.
…
Ouch.
Momo crashed onto the mat, her body rolling from the impact.
Pain.
She had to move.
She tried to stand—
Mirko was already over her.
A heel came down toward her face.
Momo raised her arms, barely managing to block—but the sheer force of it slammed her head against the ground.
THUD!
Her vision blurred.
Her grip on her bo-staff was weak.
Mirko crouched over her, tilting her head.
"That's two minutes."
Momo panted, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her brow.
Mirko leaned in.
"You wanna know why I didn't hold back like I did with the other two?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Momo swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod.
"Unlike the others," Mirko said, "Your quirk needs time to prepare. You need to think. You need to create. You need to have everything laid out before you make a move."
She tapped Momo's forehead.
"Out there, Villains won't give you that, you'll be thrust in situation where you won't have the time or luxury to create what you want, hell, you won't even have the time to think of what you need to create."
Mirko stood, her arms crossed as she then added. "Which is why I rushed in, to give you an experience of what that's like. You have to be fast. You have to be decisive. But most importantly, you also have to adapt in seconds, not minutes."
That… made sense.
A bitter pill to swallow, but Momo acknowledged that lesson as she pushed herself up, gritting her teeth.
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Next up was the engine calf guy.
Calling him over, Mirko waited and turned her attention to the bleachers, barely quelling a laugh as nearly two dozens of students eyed her with fear and trepidation. If she knew that being a teacher was going to be this fun. She would have become one ages ago!
A few seconds later, Iida stepped onto the mat, fists clenched, jaw tight. His engines hummed, heat radiating from his calves, primed for explosive speed. His body was rigid, but his mind was sharp.
He had seen the fights before him and had come to a conclusion.
Ojiro had been outclassed.
Satou had been overwhelmed.
Momo had been brutalized.
But he was different, unlike his three classmates, he was fast.
That should count for something at least.
When the matched started, He immediately went on the offensive.
His engines roared, blue flames igniting as he surged forward. The sheer burst of speed cracked the air.
He closed the distance instantly.
A blistering leg strike rocketed toward Mirko's midsection—
She sidestepped.
Iida twisted—a second kick blasted toward her face.
Mirko ducked under it, her movements fluid.
He didn't stop.
Iida pressed forward, his legs a blur, attacking relentlessly.
A spinning heel kick carved through the air—Mirko leaned back, dodging by a hair's width.
He adjusted mid-motion, pivoting into a devastating sidekick—
Mirko caught his leg.
Iida's stomach dropped.
Before he could react—
Mirko YANKED him forward—
SLAMMED her knee into his ribs.
CRACK!
Iida coughed violently, saliva and blood flying from his mouth.
She didn't let go.
Still gripping his leg, Mirko spun, twisting him midair, and SLAMMED him onto the mat.
THUD!
Pain exploded through his back, and Naruto who had been watching in the bleachers along with the horrified classmates of his, gasped dramatically and raised a hand to his mouth.
What savagery!
All the more reason he needed to tame this rabbit.
Returning to the match, Iida fought through the pain as his engines ignited again—
He launched himself off the ground, flipping over Mirko, reorienting midair, and his boot swung down in an axe kick.
Sadly…Mirko's hand shot up—
She caught it.
With one arm.
She yanked him downward—
And DROVE her elbow into his spine.
CRACK!
"AARGH—!"
Iida crashed to his knees, arms trembling, chest heaving.
Mirko didn't let up.
She grabbed his collar—
And knee-struck him in the face.
BAM!
Blood splattered onto the mat.
The class winced, eyes wide in horror.
Iida's vision blurred.
His nose was broken.
But he refused to stop.
Engines roared.
He pushed through the pain—his legs igniting once more.
Mirko grinned.
Good.
Iida launched forward at full force, a desperate flurry of kicks lashing toward her, the air splitting with each strike—
Mirko weaved through them effortlessly, her reflexes inhuman.
She sidestepped, spun, countered—and then STRUCK.
Her heel SLAMMED into his stomach.
BOOM!
Iida's body lurched backward, legs buckling.
Mirko dashed forward.
A vicious uppercut to the jaw.
A ruthless spinning backfist.
A brutal sidekick that sent him flying.
Iida hit the mat, bouncing off it violently.
He couldn't get up.
His body twitched, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps.
Mirko stepped over him.
She crouched down, gripping his face in one hand, tilting it up slightly.
"I was a bit rougher with you than I was with everyone else. "Lesson five," she announced loudly for everyone else to hear her. "Don't think being fast, or being strong, or being versatile is enough. Otherwise, you can expect something worse than this when you're out in the field."
Truthfully, she might have gone overboard, but she still needed to make her point.
If she was going to be a teacher, she was going to make sure that her students excelled, even if they hated her guys for it.
"Next."
The class shivered.
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At this point, Mirko had sparred with nearly everyone. Some performing adequately, most performing pathetically.
And needless to say, a lot of needed a lot of work before they could become competent heroes, Izuku Midoriya in particular needed a lot of work as he couldn't even use his quirk without hurting himself, and thus didn't use it at all.
But at the least, she could respect his determination as he tried to last against her during their spar.
On the other end of the spectrum, the most impressive of them all thus far was Naruto Uzumaki, who had put a good fight and demonstrated impressive ability and resilience.
She still beat the shit out of him like she did with everyone else, but he proved to be exceptional and a hero student with lots of potential.
Truthfully she was impressed.
Now…Only two were left.
Bakugo and Todoroki.
And Todoroki would have to wait as Mirko set her sights on the one whose personality somewhat… mostly resembled her own.
But they were different still!
Bakugo stepped onto the mat, rolling his shoulders as a wide, bloodthirsty grin spread across his face. His crimson eyes gleamed with unfiltered aggression, his fingers twitching with anticipation. This was what he lived for. A real fight.
"Finally," Bakugo muttered, his voice dripping with excitement. "Someone worth my damn time."
His hands sparked violently, small bursts of explosions crackling between his palms. His stance was loose, predatory—he was itching to lunge, and he hadn't forgotten how she had humiliated him after Deku's ball throw.
Tch… Bastard.
Mirko grinned. "Cocky little brat, huh?"
Bakugo's grin only widened.
The second Mirko raised her hand in signal—
BOOM!
Bakugo blasted forward in an instant, his palm detonating against the mat, sending him rocketing toward Mirko at terrifying speed. His right hand reared back, a searing explosion coiling around his palm—
He swung.
Mirko ducked. The explosion whizzed past her head, heat licking against her ear as she twisted her body.
Bakugo twisted midair, using the momentum to blast himself upward, flipping overhead and coming down hard—
BOOM!
His hand exploded against the ground, the force of it creating a shockwave that sent a blast of smoke and debris outward.
But Mirko was already gone.
She moved through the dust like a specter, weaving through the chaos as Bakugo immediately pursued, twisting his body and aiming his palm behind him—
BOOM-BOOM!
Two rapid explosions propelled him toward her like a missile.
His left fist shot forward—she sidestepped.
His right followed with another explosive hook—she leaned back, letting it graze past her chin.
Another blast. A kick. A swing.
Mirko dodged. She weaved through it all, her movements so precise, so sharp, it was like she had seen the fight play out before it even happened.
But Bakugo wasn't like the others.
He wasn't just throwing punches.
He was adjusting.
His explosions kept him moving, repositioning, never stopping, never allowing Mirko to stay in one place.
She had to admit—he was fast.
Faster than the others, except for Naruto
And most certainly not faster than her.
Bakugo gritted his teeth. His palms flared violently, the air growing hotter by the second.
"STOP DODGING, YOU DAMN BUNNY!" he roared, blasting himself high above the mat.
Mirko glanced up, a vein pulsing on her forehead.
Big mistake, brat.
Bakugo raised both hands, his fingers splayed wide, explosions already crackling to life.
"HOWITZER—"
BOOM!
Mirko vanished.
The world tilted.
Bakugo barely saw it—
A flash of white. A streak of silver.
Before he could react—
BAM!
A devastating heel kick slammed into his ribs.
The air shot from his lungs—his vision spun.
But Mirko wasn't done.
She twisted midair, her powerful leg coiling back again—
And before Bakugo could even stabilize himself—
CRACK!
Her foot slammed into his face with terrifying force.
His body flipped—
And then—
BOOM.
He crashed into the mat, hard.
Dust burst outward from the impact, his body bouncing once before he hit the ground again, a deep groan escaping his throat.
The class watched in stunned silence.
"Shit," Kaminari muttered. "That looked so painful."
Iida, who was one of the ones who experienced the worst of it, flinched and felt pity for his fellow classmate in suffering.
Bakugo growled, rolling onto his hands and knees, spitting out a glob of blood. His ribs screamed in pain, his face throbbed, his nose was busted and gushing, but his mind wasn't broken yet.
He blasted himself back up, charging forward, explosions firing off his palms to regain his momentum—
Mirko grinned.
Good.
She surged forward to meet him.
The two collided in a flurry of explosions, kicks, and brutal counterattacks.
Bakugo was relentless. His hands were a storm of fire, his swings laced with deadly precision, but Mirko—
She was still faster.
Still sharper.
Still stronger.
Every time Bakugo threw an explosive punch—she parried.
Every time he aimed to detonate point-blank—she struck before he could.
Every time he tried to readjust—she was already a step ahead.
His movements were good.
But they weren't enough.
Mirko suddenly shifted gears.
BAM!
A crushing elbow to the gut.
Bakugo gasped—but didn't fall.
WHAM!
A kick to his leg—his knee buckled.
CRACK!
A brutal punch to his jaw—his head snapped to the side.
But his hands—they still moved.
Bakugo swung blindly, aiming a final, desperate explosion to her face—
Mirko caught his wrist.
Her grip was like iron.
Bakugo barely had time to react before—
SLAM.
She twisted his arm and flipped him hard onto the mat.
The entire gym shook.
Bakugo lay flat, chest heaving, his vision blurred from the sheer force of it.
Mirko stood over him, planting a foot against his ribs, pinning him there.
His hands twitched, his quirk still flickering weakly—
But he was done.
Mirko wiped the sweat off her brow, smirking.
"Not bad, brat," she mused, her voice genuinely impressed.
Out of everyone so far, Naruto included, it was Bakugou who took the most beating. And the fact that he still attacked and attacked and attacked despite being so outclassed…
It was nothing short of respectable.
Bakugo grit his teeth, his entire body screaming in pain. He could barely move.
But even through the haze of exhaustion—he grinned.
"…Heh…" he chuckled breathlessly. "Bet I did better than the extras."
Mirko snorted, removing her foot before she admitted. "I like your tenacity. You have problem-" No shit. "But you also have the drive and guts to be an exceptional hero."
The class remained silent as Mirko stretched, rolling her shoulders.
She exhaled, wiping the sweat from her forehead before turning toward the last one. Todoroki.
Her crimson eyes burned with anticipation.
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CRACK—BOOOOM!
The match had barely begun before the battlefield exploded.
A massive iceberg erupted from the gym floor, engulfing the entire space where Mirko had stood just a fraction of a second ago.
Had her instincts been a moment slower—she would've been frozen solid.
Instead, she twisted mid-air, barely escaping as the frozen monolith shot skyward.
Her feet hit the ground, but something was wrong.
A flash of pain.
Her right leg—
She glanced down—ice.
The frost had latched onto her calf, creeping toward her knee like a parasite.
Tch. That's gonna be a problem.
With a sharp stomp, she shattered the ice off her limb, feeling the sting of cold seep into her muscles.
Then—
WHOOSH!
A wave of ice tore toward her, carving across the gym floor like a white tsunami.
Mirko's ears twitched. No hesitation.
She dove sideways, flipping over a rising spike, narrowly avoiding being frozen again.
Todoroki was already moving.
He swept his arm forward—a thick layer of frost raced toward her feet.
He was trying to box her in.
Mirko kicked off the ground, leaping onto a nearby ice pillar. The second her foot touched the surface—
CRACK!
The entire platform shattered under her weight.
She twisted mid-air, landing on a safer patch of ground.
Todoroki wasn't stopping.
A jagged ice spear burst from the floor, aimed straight for her midsection.
Mirko snapped her body sideways, letting the attack graze past her ribs before landing into a low crouch.
She grinned. "Damn, kid."
Todoroki didn't react.
His left foot slid forward—another wave of ice surged toward her.
Mirko wasn't having it.
She kicked off, twisting mid-air before slamming a powerful heel strike into the incoming ice.
BOOM!
The frozen attack shattered, sending shards of ice flying in every direction.
She landed.
Todoroki was already sending another attack.
WHOOSH!
A frozen arc of jagged ice surged toward her, sharper than before.
Mirko's ears twitched.
She backflipped over it, twisting in the air as another attack came from the left.
Tch. This brat doesn't let up.
She landed, shifting into a low sprint, ducking and weaving through the incoming ice formations.
Every time she dodged, Todoroki adjusted.
He wasn't just throwing out ice randomly—he was controlling the space, cutting off her routes.
A smart fighter.
But Mirko wasn't gonna let some frosty little kid keep her locked down.
Mirko shot forward, blurring into motion. She ducked beneath another jagged wave of ice, her legs pumping as she weaved through the onslaught. Todoroki was fast—his attacks seamless, his control precise. But she was faster. He had power. She had instinct.
Another ice spear lunged from the ground, but Mirko twisted mid-stride, slamming a heel into it before it could fully form. CRACK! The spear splintered, and she was already moving, using the momentum to launch herself forward.
Todoroki's brow furrowed. He pivoted sharply, dragging his left hand across the air. Ice surged toward her again, thicker than before, a dense barricade meant to force her to stop.
Mirko grinned.
Not a chance.
She planted her foot and lunged—straight up. The second her body left the ground, the entire space she had occupied was swallowed by ice. Todoroki had been expecting her to sidestep.
Wrong move, kid.
She soared, twisting mid-air like a missile before dropping toward him in a devastating axe kick.
Todoroki barely had time to react. He threw himself to the side, skating backward on a thin layer of ice just as her heel came down. BOOM! The shockwave from her kick shattered the floor where he had stood, sending cracks sprawling in every direction.
He landed, breath sharp, eyes calculating.
He flicked his arm—a thick spike of ice erupted from the side. Mirko flipped over it, launching a sharp kick against its tip as she passed. The ice shattered mid-flight, sending shards cascading in every direction.
She landed and immediately lunged forward. Todoroki shifted, bringing up another frozen wall between them. Mirko didn't slow down—she pivoted on her heel and swung her entire body into a brutal roundhouse.
CRACK!
The ice wall exploded, and for the first time, Todoroki staggered. He lifted his hand to summon another wave—
Too late.
Mirko was already in his space.
She twisted low, sweeping his legs with a sharp kick. Todoroki barely managed to lift one foot to avoid being completely swept, but Mirko was relentless. The moment he regained balance, she was already swinging another kick at his ribs.
Todoroki raised his arm, ice forming as he braced for impact—
BOOM!
Her heel connected, sending him skidding back. The ice armor he had hastily formed cracked from the sheer force. He exhaled sharply and in pain, his grip on his quirk faltering for a split second.
That was all Mirko needed.
She surged forward, kicking off an ice pillar, flipping over him and landing behind his back.
Todoroki spun, ice forming instinctively.
Too slow.
Mirko drove a knee straight into his ribs. He gasped, body folding slightly from the force. She didn't let up, a powerful cross to his face connected, causing Todoroki to back away a few steps as blood gushed from his nose. And pivoting on her foot, she launched a devastating sidekick into his gut, sending him skidding back.
Before he could recover, Mirko closed the gap again, her movements a blur. A sharp heel strike to the shoulder made him reel, and before he could raise another wall of ice, she was already airborne.
WHAM!
A brutal spinning kick smashed into the side of his head, making his vision blur. He stumbled, his quirk sputtering, but Mirko wasn't done.
She dropped low, sweeping his legs out from under him. Before he could hit the ground, she kicked up—her foot catching him square in the chest, launching him backward. He crashed into the ice-covered floor, skidding to a stop.
BEEP! BEEP!
The timer rang.
Mirko clicked her tongue, crossing her arms as she loomed over him. "Saved by the bell, huh?"
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The gym was eerily silent.
The only sounds were labored breathing and the occasional groan of pain as students shifted, trying to ease the aches coursing through their bodies. Every single one of them bore bruises, scrapes, and swollen limbs from the brutal sparring session. Some held ice packs against their ribs, others winced as they adjusted their stance.
Even Naruto, who had deliberately taken a few hits to avoid suspicion, rubbed his sore jaw, playing along with the act. He had fought the best out of everyone, proving his skill, but he had to hold back significantly to let Mirko win. Still, despite his effort to seem on equal footing with the others, there was no doubt in anyone's mind—he had been the strongest student by far.
But right now?
None of that mattered.
Right now, all eyes were locked on Mirko.
She stood at the front of them, arms crossed, surveying the class with a sharp, unreadable gaze. Her expression was serious—no more teasing, no more smirks. She had beaten them all into the dirt, forced them to face their weaknesses head-on. And now, they all knew what was coming.
The expulsion announcement.
Tension was suffocating.
A knot of pure dread tightened in several students' stomachs.
Izuku swallowed hard. He had barely managed to last against Mirko, and though he gave it his all, he knew he wasn't impressive. Mina chewed her lip, unable to sit still. Ochako's hands trembled slightly, clenching and unclenching into fists. Sero tried to play it cool, but his knee bounced restlessly.
And then there was Mineta.
He sat there, sweat poured down his face, his hands shaking. He had been terrible. Mirko had bodied him in seconds, and the second the spar ended, he had felt it in his gut—he was done for.
But even he held onto a sliver of hope.
Maybe… just maybe…
Maybe Mirko wouldn't actually expel anyone.
Maybe this was all just a scare tactic.
Maybe—
Mirko exhaled loudly and finally spoke.
"Alright. Let's cut to the chase."
Silence.
Her crimson eyes swept over the exhausted, beaten-down class, pausing just a fraction of a second longer on a few individuals.
Then—
"Mashirao Ojiro. Koji Koda. Minoru Mineta."
The names hung in the air like a death sentence.
For a long, agonizing moment—no one moved. No one even breathed.
Then, reality set in.
Ojiro's entire body stiffened, his mind blanking out as the words echoed in his ears. His fingers twitched, his tail going completely still behind him. His mouth opened—but no sound came out.
Koda… froze. He sat stock still, his hands gripping his knees, his breathing suddenly shallow. His vision blurred slightly, a cold sweat dripping down his face.
And Mineta?
Mineta collapsed forward, hands digging into his scalp as he let out a strangled, shaky wheeze.
"No… no, no, no…" he muttered under his breath, his voice rising in sheer panic. "No! No way, no way, no way—"
His chest heaved. His pupils shrank. He couldn't breathe.
"I-I can't—I c-can't be expelled—this—this is a joke, right? R-Right?! Sensei?!" Mineta gasped, clinging onto some kind of cruel joke that didn't exist. His face was pale, his entire body trembling.
Ojiro still hadn't said anything.
He was just… staring at the floor.
His hands clenched, his jaw locked so tight it hurt.
He had worked so damn hard. He had done everything he could.
And yet—
He wasn't good enough.
Koda's eyes glazed over slightly. His mind couldn't keep up. He was gone. That was it.
It was over.
He felt like his chest had caved in.
Though they had been told in advance, still actually hearing it was another thing. As such, the class exploded in protests.
"Wait, what?! You can't just—"
"This isn't fair!"
Ojiro snapped his head up, his throat tight. "I… I can do better," he croaked. "I swear, I can do better—"
"I wasn't good, but I wasn't that bad either!" Mineta shrieked. "You can't—You can't just kick me out! I—"
"You're seriously expelling them?!" Mina shouted, her hands slamming onto the ground. "Just like that?!"
Mirko's gaze was unwavering.
"Yes."
The weight of that single word crushed the air out of the room.
Mineta broke.
"PLEASE! PLEASE, DON'T KICK ME OUT! I-I CAN IMPROVE, I'LL—"
"Shut up."
Mirko's voice cut through his sobs like a blade.
Mineta flinched violently, curling in on himself.
She rolled her shoulders, sighing. "I don't like doing this, but the reality is, some of you aren't cut out to be heroes."
Ojiro shook his head, gripping his hair.
Koda didn't even react.
Ochako bit her lip, her hands clenched into fists. "But…" she swallowed thickly. "They tried their best—"
Mirko's gaze snapped to her.
"And? That's not enough."
Silence.
She let the words sink in before continuing.
"This world isn't fair," she stated. "Some people are born with incredible quirks that let them help people. Some are born with nothing but still have sheer guts and a need to help those who can't help themselves."
Her voice hardened. "But from what I've seen, the three you weren't blessed with a talent or powerful quirk, neither did you three demonstrate any sort of will or guts in your spar. To have you three graduate as heroes and work as such would only result in either your deaths, or the deaths of innocent civilians."
The class quickly quieted after that.
"I don't enjoy crushing your dreams. But in this unfair world, we need heroes, not possible casualties or ineffective heroes who can't do a thing."
And it was the truth, as ugly as said truth was.
That boy Koda was so meek and barely had the will to fight. And Ojiro, while somewhat of a capable martial artist, didn't fight with ferocity or show any traits that would prove he'd make a fine hero.
Out of the three, only Mineta showed some sort of talent. What with his quirk having the potential to be used as a sort of trap. He could have been useful that way.
But just the way he was in mindset, where he only wished to be a hero for the woman. And how he didn't show the kind of guts that she was looking for… Mirko just couldn't have him continue.
She couldn't let any of those three continue, because if they did and they graduated, sooner rather than later, they'd either end up dead. Or someone under their watch would end up dead, and while that kind of thing was expected and normal, unfortunate as it is as it happens with all heroes. The problem was that Mirko could see it becoming a common occurrence with those three in particular.
Ojiro squeezed his eyes shut, his nails digging into his palms.
"The three of you didn't show me enough. Not enough strength. Not enough grit." She exhaled. "You all want to be heroes? Then act like it. I don't want to expel people, but this school isn't some charity program. Either you're good enough, or you're not."
The entire class was silent.
Tears dripped from Mineta's face, his body trembling.
Ojiro was completely still.
Koda sat with his head lowered, expression unreadable.
Mirko sighed again, rubbing the back of her head before turning to the rest of the class. "I'll be real with you brats. You got potential—some more than others. And some of you barely scraped by and I had to really contemplate whether to expel you or not."
A few students flinched.
"But you still got through. Don't make me regret keeping you."
She turned back to the three expelled students. "As for you three… find another path. Being a hero isn't for you."
Silence.
Not the kindest words. But Mirko wouldn't disrespect them by micing or sugarcoating her words.
Being honest with them was the most respectable thing she could do for them after expelling them.
End.
So… I know Mirko seems tough here, but she doesn't really have a choice.
As much as we all like the premise that even the most unfortunate, in the case of the my hero academia world, the quirkless, can be part of the hero system, realistically, its not possible.
Sure you can save someone, but to actively put yourself in those situations where you fight villains, or something… it's just not feasible.
It's like putting a cripple up against an mma fighter with no weapons there.
Mirko doesn't enjoy expelling those students, but she was kind enough to be honest with them when the world refused to. And in her own way, she tried to protect them.
Anyway, I've gotten a bit too invested in this.
I do hope you all liked the chapter.
Take care lads.
Peace.