I stepped onto the train platform, the morning commuters parting around me like water. The digital display showed twenty minutes until the UA-bound train arrived. My fingers brushed the silver chain at my neck, a habit I'd picked up since Mom gave it to me.
"Fam, those earrings are straight fire."
The voice came from my left - playful, confident, touched with that distinctive gyaru lilt. I turned to find a girl about my age studying me with obvious interest. Long blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders in artful waves, framing a face that belonged on magazine covers. Her brown eyes sparkled with mischief as she gave me an appreciative once-over.
"The emeralds really pop against the black," she continued, gesturing at my turtleneck. "Giving rich young master vibes, no cap."
"Thanks." I shifted my gym bag, noting how her UA entrance packet matched mine. "Heading to the exam?"
"Periodt!" She struck a peace sign pose. "Camie Utsushimi, future hero in training. Unless the written test gets too sus."
"Izuku Midoriya." I offered a small bow, which made her giggle. "And don't stress the written portion. They curve it against the practical scores."
Her eyes widened. "Wait, fr fr? How you know that?"
"Research. Lots of it." The platform grew more crowded as we talked. Without thinking, I stepped closer to shield her from the press of bodies. "Been studying UA's admission patterns for months."
"Sheesh, that's mad extra." But she sounded impressed rather than dismissive. "You really want in, huh?"
"It's been the goal since-" I paused, memories of two lifetimes overlapping. "For as long as I can remember."
Camie nodded, her expression softening into something more genuine. "Same tho. My quirk's perfect for rescue work, yeah? But like, gotta prove I'm more than just pretty smoke and mirrors."
"Illusions?"
"Glamour." She blew a small wisp of smoke that formed a miniature butterfly. "Visual and audio effects. Great for crowd control, rescue ops, that whole vibe."
"Impressive control." I watched the butterfly dissolve. "Most illusion quirks I've researched require more setup time."
"Aw, you're gonna make me blush." She fanned herself dramatically. "But enough about me - what's your quirk, mystery man?"
"Don't have one."
The words came out easily, no trace of the shame they might have carried in another life. Camie's perfectly glossed lips formed a small 'o' of surprise.
"You're quirkless? And trying for UA?" She studied me with new intensity. "That's kinda..."
"Impossible?"
"I was gonna say based." She grinned. "Like, maximum respect for that confidence. Plus-" Her gaze traced the subtle muscle definition visible through my sweater. "Pretty sure you got other advantages going for you."
I laughed. "Ten months of hell with my trainer. Though he'd probably say I'm still a hundred years too early."
"Sounds like my dance instructor. Nothing's ever good enough for these sensei types." She rolled her eyes fondly. "But hey, they must be doing something right. You looking like a whole snack out here."
"Pretty sure that's the outfit talking."
"Nah fam, that's all you." She pulled out her phone, tapped something rapidly. "We should definitely exchange info. For study groups and stuff."
"And stuff?"
"You know how it is." She winked. "Future heroes gotta stick together."
The train arrived as we swapped contact details, its sleek form gliding to a stop. The crowd surged forward, but I held back, letting Camie board first. She claimed a spot by the window, patting the seat beside her.
"Keeping me company? These rides hit different with good conversation."
I settled in next to her, careful to maintain a respectful distance despite the cramped space. "Twenty minutes isn't much time for conversation."
"Bet." She turned sideways in her seat, one knee drawn up. "Twenty minutes is plenty if you're efficient. Like speed dating, but for making friends."
"Speed friending?"
"Now you're getting it!" Her smile lit up her whole face. "Quick, tell me three things about yourself. Wrong answers only."
The train pulled away from the station as I considered. "I'm secretly All Might's love child, I have a collection of vintage spoons, and I once wrestled a bear in Hokkaido."
Camie's laugh drew attention from other passengers. "The spoon thing actually tracks with your whole aesthetic. Very old money energy."
"Your turn then."
"Bet. I'm actually a highly advanced AI, I won the national hot dog eating contest three years running, and-" She leaned in conspiratorially. "I've never seen a single episode of All Might's variety show."
"That last one's just tragic."
We spent the rest of the ride trading increasingly ridiculous stories, our laughter earning mixed looks from the other passengers. Camie's presence felt like a sunbeam - warm, bright, impossible to ignore. She gestured expansively when she talked, her movements graceful despite the confined space.
The train announcement system chimed. "UA Station, approaching."
"Already?" Camie pouted. "But I was just about to tell you about my secret career as a professional yodeler."
"Save it for after the exam?" I stood, offering her a hand up. "Assuming we both pass."
"Oh, we're passing." She took my hand. "No doubt."
The station platform teemed with other exam candidates, all heading toward UA's imposing main gate. Camie stuck close to my side as we navigated the crowd.
"Hey." She touched my arm lightly. "For real though? Thanks for making this morning not suck. I was mad nervous before meeting you."
"You? Nervous?"
"Facts. But something about you just-" She made a vague gesture. "Makes things feel possible, you know?"
I thought about the beach, about ten months of transformation. About second chances and inherited dreams.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I know exactly what you mean."
The gate loomed ahead, its metal surface gleaming in the morning sun. Camie squeezed my arm once before releasing it.
"Ready to make history, fam?"
I met her confident grin with one of my own. "Let's show them what we can do."
The massive H-shaped building dominated the skyline, its glass and steel architecture gleaming against the morning clouds. Camie whistled, head tilted back to take in the full scope.
"Bruh. That's straight-up architectural flex right there. Like they built a whole ass power move."
I opened my mouth to respond, but a familiar presence barreled toward us from the left. Years of training had my muscles tensing automatically.
"Out of my way, Deku."
Bakugo's shoulder caught empty air as I shifted slightly, letting him pass without contact. His crimson eyes narrowed at the effortless dodge.
"Good luck on the exam, Kacchan."
The words came out calm, measured. My pulse had spiked at his approach, old instincts screaming for a more direct response. But I wasn't that person anymore. Either version of me.
Bakugo's lip curled. "Tch." His gaze lingered on Camie for a moment before he stalked away, small explosions crackling in his palms.
"Okay, that was mad tense." Camie's perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together. "What's his damage?"
"Childhood rival things." I adjusted my gym bag's strap. "We grew up together, practically from birth."
"And he calls you... Deku?" She tested the word carefully. "What's that mean?"
"It's a play on my name. Another reading of the kanji." My lips quirked. "Basically means 'useless.'"
"What?" Her brown eyes sparked with indignation. "That's straight trash behavior. Which sucks 'cause like, the name itself? Low key adorable."
I shrugged, watching other examinees stream past us toward the entrance. "Words only hold the power you give them. Without the context, I agree - it does sound kind of cute."
"Still an asshole move though."
"Maybe." The morning sun caught my emerald earrings, casting small green reflections on her cheek. "But we've all got our reasons for being who we are."
The entrance hall stretched before us, its polished floors reflecting the fluorescent lights above. Two massive arrows dominated the far wall - "A-M" pointed left, "N-Z" right.
"Guess this is where we split." Camie's expression brightened. "Yo, manifest this - we both ace these tests, end up in the same class, become legendary hero besties."
"Getting ahead of yourself?" But I smiled at her enthusiasm. "Written exam first. Three hours of comprehensive testing - regular subjects plus hero law application."
"Why you gotta remind me?" She made a face. "My brain's already crying."
"You'll do fine." I gestured toward her arrow. "Time to make that AI backstory believable."
"Facts." She started walking backward, pointing finger guns at me. "Don't forget me when you're topping the rankings, pretty boy."
"Wouldn't dare."
She disappeared into the right-hand corridor, her confident stride drawing more than a few admiring glances. As I turned toward my own destination, I caught Bakugo watching from across the hall. His expression darkened when our eyes met.
The classroom assigned for A-M test-takers had the sterile feel of most exam rooms - rigid rows of desks, harsh lighting, and the faint smell of pencil shavings. I chose a seat near the middle, not too close to the front or back.
Other students filtered in, each bringing their own energy to the sterile space. A girl with cotton-candy pink hair bounced past, small horns peeking through her wild mane. She radiated the kind of chaotic energy that teachers probably dreaded.
Two rows ahead, someone who looked carved from pure obsidian settled into their seat, stark white hair creating a striking contrast. Their movements held a deliberate grace, like someone hyper-aware of their own density.
"Is this seat taken?"
I glanced up to find a boy whose head resembled a speech bubble - white, rounded, eerily smooth. The effect was almost cartoonish against his otherwise normal appearance.
"All yours."
He slid into the chair, arranging his supplies with methodical precision. "Manga Fukidashi. Your earrings are quite striking."
"Thanks. Izuku Midoriya." I adjusted one of the emerald studs. "Your quirk related to your..." I gestured vaguely at his head.
"Comic." He pulled out a mechanical pencil. "I manifest onomatopoeia. Less flashy than some, but versatile."
More students arrived in steady waves. A girl with vines for hair. Someone whose skin rippled like water. The diversity of quirk manifestations never failed to fascinate me.
The sharp staccato of heels echoed down the hallway. Click. Click. Click. The sound carried authority, purpose. When Midnight stepped through the doorway, the room's atmosphere shifted instantly.
She commanded attention without effort, her hero costume leaving little to imagination while somehow remaining just within the bounds of professional. Long dark hair fell in artful waves past her shoulders, framing features that belonged in classic paintings. Her domino mask did nothing to hide the sharp intelligence in her eyes as she surveyed the room.
"Good morning, future heroes and students." Her voice carried easily to every corner. "I'm Midnight, your proctor for today's written examination. Three hours to complete all sections. Standard subjects plus hero law and ethics." She smiled, the expression both playful and predatory. "Let's see what you're made of."
Test booklets materialized on our desks through some unseen quirk. The familiar weight of a pencil settled in my hand as I opened to the first page.
Mathematics. Physics. Literature. The questions marched across the pages in neat rows. I moved through them steadily, years of obsessive study paying off. The hero law section proved particularly engaging - scenario-based questions that required applying legal precedent to complex situations.
A villain's quirk causes widespread property damage during their capture. The hero present failed to use a viable alternative method that would have minimized destruction. Discuss liability distribution citing relevant cases...
Time melted away as I wrote, barely registering Midnight's occasional passes through the aisles. Her presence added an interesting pressure to the room - some students clearly struggled to focus with the R-Rated Hero in such close proximity.
"Thirty minutes remaining." Her announcement cut through the scratch of pencils. "I suggest checking your work if you've finished early."
I was already deep in my second review pass. The essay portion had given me pause initially - "Discuss the societal implications of quirk-based career restrictions" - but I'd managed to weave in both historical context and modern reform movements.
Manga's pencil hadn't stopped moving since we started. His speech-bubble head tilted at an angle that suggested intense concentration. Behind us, someone muttered equations under their breath.
"Time's up." Midnight's voice cracked like a whip. "Pencils down."
The rustle of papers filled the air as tests were collected. I caught fragments of conversation as students compared answers.
"That physics section..."
"Did anyone get the literature analysis?"
"The hero law scenarios were brutal."
"Well done, everyone." Midnight's smile carried an edge of satisfaction. "For those applying to General Studies, your examination is complete. Congratulations on taking this first step." She paused, letting her gaze sweep across the room. "Business course applicants, please proceed to Conference Room 3 for your specialized assessment. Support course candidates will meet Power Loader in Support Studio 1."
Her tongue traced her bottom lip as she turned to address the remaining students. "And for our potential heroes..." The leather of her costume creaked as she leaned forward. "Report to the main auditorium. Your tickets have assigned seating - I suggest you find them quickly."
The room erupted into motion. I gathered my materials, noting how Manga's speech-bubble head bobbed with nervous energy as he stood.
"Good luck," he said, adjusting his collar. "Though from what I observed of your writing speed, you hardly need it."
"Same to you. That comic quirk has interesting applications."
The hallway outside had transformed into a river of students, each current flowing toward different destinations. I spotted the pink-haired girl from earlier practically bouncing toward Support Studio 1, her hands already full of sketches and diagrams. I took a moment to stretch, feeling the familiar pull of well-trained muscles. The written portion was done - just the physical test remained
Halfway there.
I headed toward the auditorium, my steps measured and purposeful. Time to show them what ten months of hell could produce.