A simple question.
So simple, it looked harmless.
But the wrong answer could cause… disasters. Hatchets. Tears. Death flags.
Especially when asked on a school rooftop at lunchtime.
A certain "Brother Cheng" in another world had died from exactly this.
Lock stared down at his bento—the beautifully prepared one he foolishly forgot would absolutely attract Kyōka's attention.
He needed to answer. Correctly.
His mind spun at light speed.
Option one:
"Ryūko Tatsuma—my aunt—made it."
Kyōka at least knew the name, though she'd never met the Pro Hero personally.
Option two:
"I made it myself this morning."
…Impossible. She'd never buy that.
And lies?
Lies were a landmine. One lie meant another. Then another. Then a bigger one.
Until the whole thing blew up in his face and sent him spiraling into the stratosphere.
So—
Honesty.
That was the only safe path.
Lock exhaled, turned to her, and said plainly:
"…My parents left behind a maid.
Her name is Branwen.
She handles my meals every day."
Silence.
Kyōka lowered her head over her folded knees… then suddenly reached out, snatched his sleeve, and tugged hard.
"This weekend."
"…Huh?"
"I'm visiting your house."
Lock blinked—then smiled softly.
Everything about her, from the aggrieved sideways glare to the puffed cheeks, was unbearably cute.
"Alright. I'll ask Branwen to prepare something good for you."
Kyōka's first visit to his home.
Despite being childhood friends, Lock had always visited her house, not the other way around.
After his parents' deaths, the original owner had shut himself away, so Kyōka never had the chance.
They finished the bent and, with time left before the afternoon class, sat side by side watching the clouds drift by.
"…You've changed, Lock," Kyōka murmured.
"Grown distant?"
"…Mm."
He was taller, sharper, stronger—carrying himself more like a Pro Hero than a student.
He attracted every gaze the moment he entered a room.
But for Kyōka, that only made him feel further away—like he was disappearing into a world she couldn't reach.
Lock smiled gently.
"I just stepped into a new field. And you want to be a Hero too, right?
When we graduate, let's go to U.A. together."
Kyōka's eyes widened.
You-you're going to U.A. too!?"
"Of course. Even if I'm already a Pro, I still want the training U.A. is famous for."
He said it casually—
But Kyōka, too close, suddenly flushed at the faint scent of his warmth.
Lock quickly turned his head away, ears hot.
"I—I need to work harder then! I'm definitely passing U.A.'s entrance exam!"
Her voice rang across the rooftop—fiery, earnest, youthful.
Lock felt himself infected by her energy.
Meanwhile — That Same Night
When the evolutionist stronghold fell, somewhere in a dim bar, a black warp-gate twisted open.
Kurogiri stepped out, dragging behind him a trembling man with a simian face—formerly Yamamoto, now renamed for MHA alignment as Dr. Saruyama, an evolutionary scientist.
A silver-haired young man sat at the counter, scratching his neck, pale hands with decay-crusted nails twitching.
"Who's the ape-looking guy, Kurogiri?"
Tomura Shigaraki's voice scraped out, dissatisfied already.
"Shigaraki," Kurogiri replied calmly, "he is a key member of the Evolutionary organization. The teacher ordered me to extract him after their facility was compromised."
Saruyama lifted his chin proudly—back to being arrogant now that he was "safe."
Shigaraki clicked his tongue. "One stronghold gets destroyed, and he comes running here? What a waste of space.
Kurogiri—send him back."
Saruyama instantly panicked.
"No—please! It was only one site! Our organization has many more across the country! Your teacher's condition—and the production of Nomu—you still need us!"
The meaning was clear:
I'm useful. Don't kill me.
Then a man's mature voice came from the TV in the corner:
"Shigaraki. Don't be rude. He still has value to our plans."
"Understood… Sensei."
The "Sensei" in question was unmistakable.
All For One.
Kurogiri bowed toward the TV.
A new voice entered the conversation—the raspy, almost playful tone of the Doctor, AFO's personal physician and Saruyama's direct superior.
"Saruyama. You let an entire stronghold fall… and allowed research data to be taken by the police."
Saruyama turned white as chalk and dropped to his knees, forehead hitting the floor repeatedly.
"M-My lord! I—I beg your forgiveness!"
"Hmph. I will give you one last chance.
Until a new base is built, you are forbidden from any… extracurricular activities."
"Y-Yes! I'll dedicate myself fully!"
He let out a shaking exhale.
Had the Doctor decided to punish him fully, Saruyama wouldn't have been left with even the wish to die.
Then AFO's voice returned:
"Kurogiri. Report all abilities displayed by the boy called Lock—the Mage."
"Yes, Sensei."
Kurogiri inclined his head.
"So far, he has demonstrated eight abilities:
• Water manipulation
• Flame generation
• Draconic transformation
• Flight
• Lightning
• Ice creation
• Suspected invisibility
• Airflow manipulation."
A low hum came from the TV.
"…Interesting. So many distinct abilities in one child. Could it be…?"
AFO's voice trailed with ominous curiosity.
Then:
"Kurogiri. Once the new base is ready—
bring that boy, Lock, to me…
as a guest."
Kurogiri bowed.
"…Understood."
---
A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
Support: patreon.com/Narrator_San