—We have already delayed the start of classes far too long— Aizawa said with a sigh.
The man threw himself into one of the armchairs in Nezu's office without any manners, radiating an aura of exhaustion so intense that the Director felt his own eyelids grow heavy.
It was with good reason. Out of all the courses at UA right now, Kan and Aizawa were the only ones who had not officially begun their respective classes.
Both Heroes had been going back and forth in face-to-face meetings—long and grueling ones at that—with the parents of each and every one of their students.
Awkward conversations, proposals, and promises that were neither accepted nor believed. Aizawa could have simply nodded to those families and left after a couple of attempts, but circumstances did not allow him to do such a thing.
At this moment, it wasn't a matter of wanting or not wanting, but of necessity. UA had to maintain an image, a standard, a reputation. Restarting classes with less than half of the participants would be a heavy blow to the Hero Course and the Institution.
—I agree. The License Exams are just around the corner— Nezu nodded, distractedly analyzing something on a tablet. —But how many of them will actually be ready?
Aizawa didn't answer immediately. If he had to suggest names, the number wouldn't even reach ten. However, that could change in the little time they had left.
Toshinori had told him about what he saw when he visited the Class 1-A dorms.
Curious, Aizawa had taken a discreet look himself and was slightly surprised.
He had already imagined Bakugo, the Teru- ... the Terumi pair, Todoroki, and Midoriya as the leading figures of his class. But there was more spirit in his other students than he had initially believed.
—And what about the HPSC?— he questioned the Director, remembering that small detail.
—They didn't accept. They are very obtuse when it comes to the idea of sharing their capabilities with others— Nezu replied with a smile.
—Tell me about that, while we're at it— Aizawa urged casually. As their Sensei, and having a strange relationship with Tetsumaru, the man was permitted to know everything related to them.
He listened to Nezu's report with a hint of surprise.
By this point, both were aware that the Terumi pair's Quirk was neither Water Release nor Satetsu, but rather that mysterious energy produced by their cells and something else that the machines couldn't identify.
Tetsumaru had told them that this energy allowed them to manifest different effects based on patterns of movement and intensity. They didn't know the limits, as neither of the shinobi shared them, but Nezu invested in them anyway.
Mei demonstrated the ability to produce water with that energy, as well as steam. With the help of Nezu's equipment, she was able to manifest fire in a variety of forms. For his part, Tetsumaru focused on wind.
Nezu kept all the data for himself and Aizawa to study at a later time, something both siblings had to reluctantly agree to.
—They also asked me to restrict access to the laboratory at certain times— Nezu commented with a shrewd look. —They have a couple of tricks that no one, besides you and me, can be aware of.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow. He had already seen them move at ridiculous speeds that even he couldn't react to, poison monsters with their saliva, and tear them apart with spheres of pure energy.
What else were these brats hiding?
******************************
It turned out that Elemental techniques were much easier for Mei than those without a specific Element.
Spitting flames? Sure. Water and steam techniques? She already had a couple before this. But in the Shinobi World, Elemental Ninjutsu wasn't the only thing that existed.
The Shunshin no Jutsu (Body Flicker), Kawarimi no Jutsu (Substitution), Kage Bunshin no Jutsu (Shadow Clone), and other similar ones didn't necessarily belong to a specific chakra nature.
And that was precisely why they were very difficult, if not impossible, for both of them to learn.
It took them years to identify the Shunshin, and even then, it was with the help of their meta-knowledge and the faint intuition of their incarnations. But the Kage Bunshin no Jutsu? They had nothing.
Creating a solid chakra construct with a pattern similar to their own? That wasn't enough information to go on. At least with the Shunshin, they knew the energy had to be concentrated in their feet.
Even so, the kunoichi did not give up on this front.
Nezu's program wasn't perfect, however, and at times it took hours to finalize the simulations.
Sometimes, after hours of analysis and testing, it was determined to be too dangerous to proceed and they had to abandon the idea, moving on to a different combination of hand signs and chakra movement.
This made progress slow, not to mention that Tetsumaru couldn't learn Fire techniques and Mei couldn't access Wind ones, so they had to take turns.
Luckily for Mei, she managed to convince (threaten) Tetsumaru into letting her have a few days of exclusive use. The girl was determined to obtain more than just flames and whirlpools.
For his part, Tetsumaru focused on sharpening his basic mastery of wind, regardless of how inefficient the chakra consumption was. He wasn't looking for techniques yet, but for something more powerful.
With his current chakra reserves, he could form two consecutive Ōdama Rasengan before limiting his options to Satetsu and Taijutsu. If he remained conservative, that would extend to about five or six basic Rasengan.
The Rasen-Shuriken was far more demanding. It was a technique that drained chakra like a demon, not only to form it but also to maintain control over it.
Fortunately, control was where the shinobi excelled most. Unfortunately, he was neither an Uzumaki nor a Jinchūriki.
Aside from their respective adventures rediscovering whatever Ninjutsu they could, the pair maintained a physical training regimen both for themselves and for every poor soul from Class 1-A who approached with determination in their eyes.
It wasn't just about Ojiro's death, Iida's possible retirement, or Sero's unknown mental state. It was a matter of reality.
Bakugo had finally accepted his inferiority, but that didn't diminish his desire to be the best. Todoroki realized that simply hoping to shut his father's mouth was a foolish goal; he aspired to something else. For others like Kirishima, the path forward had always been obvious. His vision of things hadn't been shaken—it was now more focused.
The change in some went unnoticed. In others, it would be a gradual process that had already begun. For everyone, it was a fact. Their lives had changed, but their goals had not. Now they knew better, and they would give it their all.
Class 1-A was changing, and their decisions would unleash further ripples in a story that was beginning to derail from its original course.
*****************************
—"Sabi-Haguruma? What kind of name is that?— Dabi questioned with a sneer.
—You're part of the League of Villains, pal. You're in no position to judge— Twice retorted mockingly, earning a long stare from Shigaraki Tomura.
The group was traveling in a small truck through a secluded area south of Deika City, Aichi Prefecture. It was a labyrinthine sinkhole of refineries, factories, and shipyards—environmental conditions that made it a dangerous place for people with volatile Quirks.
Hidden in the back, Abura's obese frame toyed with his phone and listened to music, oblivious to the mockery his companions directed at the family that had taken him in.
Dabi didn't know this group that had come out of nowhere, nor could he imagine what the hell they would contribute to the League. In fact, he had been thinking about cutting ties with the group himself, as he had seen nothing but failures and beatings in their ventures.
The only thing that held him back was the overwhelming power of the masked man in the suit, the one called Shigaraki's Master. That guy was able to handle several Top 10 Heroes, including Endeavor.
Such power was not something Dabi could ignore. There were also the Nomu, which, although they seemed useless given the many losses they suffered when facing children and a few Heroes, had not yet been exploited to their full potential.
After a while of driving, Abura knocked on the metal box he was inside, signaling the end of the comfortable trip.
What followed was a long trek through the toxic wasteland, during which the pyromaniac was warned to keep his flames to himself, unless he wished to blow them all to kingdom come.
Abura guided them through tunnels, warehouses, and small mountains of rubble—past lakes of thick, bubbling liquids emitting vapors of questionable origin.
—Don't even think about smoking that shit— the fat man had warned. No one questioned him.
Finally, they crossed through the basement of a collapsed factory and emerged on the other side, finding an old shipyard whose organized chaos gave Dabi a strange feeling.
At first glance, the place looked like another abandoned dump, but the arrangement of the rubble piles and crudely reconstructed walls indicated purpose. A defensive one. The beached ship with a reinforced door fitted between the hull and the bilge only made it more obvious.
—Hey Ma, it's me, Abura!— the oily, obese man called out.
— ...Mother?— Twice murmured in a strange tone. A fleeting idea crossed the minds of all the members present.
A large, round idea.