With only early season four level of MHA knowledge, Yuta knew there were a lot of things he would be missing.
"The Rabbit Hero, Mirko. Ranked Number Six."
This person was partially among it.
Mirko. It was a name Yuta recognized. Not through Meta Knowledge but through the Hero Billboard Chart within fifteen years of memories.
The fierce, high-energy hero known for her devastating leg strength and relentless offense.
"Is she that good?"
"In close-quarters combat?" Aizawa's tone was flat. "She's the best active hero outside of All Might. Raw power, speed, aggression—she fights like a wild animal, and she's damn good at it."
Yuta frowned. "Then why didn't she send an offer? Was my performance not enough?"
"It's not that. Mirko doesn't run an agency. She works solo, no sidekicks, no teammates and no fixed location. Aside that, she's single-mindedly focused on fighting strong opponents."
Aizawa shook his head. "There was zero chance she'd pick an intern, even if you'd won the whole festival. If I had to bet, she probably doesn't even know you exist. And even if she did, she wouldn't teach you anything because, frankly... you're too weak. She'd take one look at you and move on."
Yuta's lip twitched. The bluntness of the statement was classic Aizawa, but it stung.
"Is there anyway I can request an internship with her?"
"We don't do that here. And even if we did, the answer would most likely be no."
".."
"You might not like it, but it is what it is. She's a battle maniac only interested in a good fight. Unless you can grant her that, there's no way she'd agree. That's just problem one. I'm not saying there's no chance, so you can try asking her yourself, but you gotta find a way to contact her first. By yourself."
".."
"The others on your list—Gunhead, Fourth Kind—they're good," Aizawa continued, leaning back. "But they'll be busy with other interns. You'll be one of four, maybe five. You won't get the focused training you're looking for."
He slid the folder back across the table toward Yuta.
"While it's unfortunate, you need to face reality. These are your options." He tapped the folder twice. "Gunhead's solid for fundamental combat techniques. Fourth Kind will drill discipline into you. Both would be decent choices given your circumstances and you'll get a crash course in manners and basic patrol procedures."
Aizawa reached out, sliding the folder back across the desk toward Yuta.
"It's not the best, but it's better than nothing. You still have two days. Go think about it."
He finished, already beginning to zip himself back into his yellow cocoon.
Yuta exhaled, tucking the folder under his arm.
"...Thanks, sensei."
Aizawa waved dismissively without looking back. "Don't mention it."
Yuta headed toward the door.
The moment it clicked shut behind him, the ambient noise of the lounge returned.
Present Mic set his phone down. "Man, that's rough. Kid's got the tools, but the best option's completely out of reach."
Cementoss nodded thoughtfully. "It's unfortunate, but not uncommon. Mirko's reputation precedes her—she's never taken on anyone. Not even top-ranking students from past years have managed to secure her mentorship."
"That's if she can even mentor anyone. It's more likely she'll beat the crap out of them day in and day out till she gets bored. Won't end well for either side."
Listening, Aizawa shook his head, silently disagreeing with that statement.
'His words have some truth to it,' He thought at Snipe's words. 'But only if they aren't capable. If his ability is as good as he says, coupled with his healing and speed, he'll probably last longer than most.'
That however didn't change that he was going to get beaten.
'He'll benefit at a cost.'
"It's pointless contemplating it if it isn't possible. Probably only the Principal could arrange something like that," Mirko was a U.A graduate.
If the principal put in a word, perhaps it could work out. "But even then..." He shrugged. "Mirko does what she wants. No amount of negotiating will change that if she's not interested."
Snipe snorted through his mask "Still, feels like a waste, y'know? The kid's quirk has crazy potential."
"So why don't you take him on?"
"Me? Meh. I would have done so already if I was versed in close combat."
Aizawa, halfway into his sleeping bag, paused.
"...Right."
His tone was flat, expression hidden as he zipped himself up completely.
The lounge returned to its usual quiet hum.
__
Yuta stepped out of the teachers' lounge, the folder tucked securely under his arm.
'So Mirko's out. Figures.'
He began walking down the hallway, flipping the folder open as he moved.
'Gunhead... Fourth Kind... What exactly do I do now?'
His eyes scanned the list, filtering through names and agency descriptions. Perhaps he was asking too much from a single one week internship.
Most interns would just patrol. Get Hero handling 101 and that was about it. Maybe some combat if they were lucky.
'Hold on. Isn't this Mom's previous agency in Hinohara?'
He paused as a name caught his eye.
Sentinel Agency – Hinohara District
Yuta chuckled. 'Even these guys are sending offers huh?'
He tucked the folder away and headed back to class. It was too early to make a decision, especially in a situation like his. Maybe better alternatives would show up.
'There has to be a better option than, ....'
"Akutami."
Yuta stopped.
He looked up.
Todoroki Shoto stood a few meters ahead, hands in his pockets.
For a moment, neither of them spoke
Then Todoroki's gaze flicked to the folder in Yuta's hands.
"Still deciding on your internship?"
Yuta closed the folder slightly. "Yeah. You?"
"I've already chosen."
"That was fast."
"It was an easy decision."
He walked forward, and stopped just beside him.
"I heard about your talk with Bakugo."
"And?"
"I want a rematch too after the Internships." Todoroki's expression remained unchanged. Then continued past him toward the teachers' lounge.
Yuta watched him go with exasperation. Who knew teenagers could have so many problems.
__
[AKUTAMI RESIDENCE – KITCHEN]
Aiko handed a steaming mug to Rin, the aroma of dark roast filling the space between them. Rin took a long sip, leaning back against the counter and letting out a sigh of pure appreciation.
"God, I missed your coffee, Aiko. Patrol just doesn't taste the same anymore."
Aiko leaned her elbows on the armrests of her wheelchair. A small smile on her face. "You could always visit more often. You don't need the excuse of 'bringing tribute'"
"Please," Rin said, waving a lazy hand. "If I show up too often, your son's going to think I'm stealing his mother away."
Aiko rolled her eyes, easing herself back in her chair. "He'll survive. I raised a tough boy."
Rin hid a smile behind her mug. "Tough is one word for it. Second place at the Sports Festival. You must be so proud."
"I am." Aiko's smile was genuine, though something flickered behind it. "He worked hard for it."
She conveniently ignored that under her strict watch, Yuta barely had any time to train at home initially.
"She seems sweet," Rin said, turning her gaze to the living room. "How's she adjusting?"
"Slowly." Aiko's expression softened. "She's been through a lot. But Yuta's been good with her. Better than I expected, honestly. She's grown quite attached to him."
"Classic damsel in distress save." Rin smiled wider.
Aiko huffed a laugh. "Don't let him hear you call it that. He already insists it 'wasn't a big deal.'"
"Teenagers," Rin murmured, taking another sip. "Nearly die once and suddenly it's nothing."
Aiko didn't respond immediately. She traced the rim of her mug with one finger, the small motion a classic tell for when she had something on her mind.
Her gaze drifted. Not toward the living room this time, but toward the hallway leading to Yuta's room.
Rin's eyes softened. "…He's scaring you again, isn't he?"
Aiko blinked, then forced a small smile. "I'm his mother. I'm allowed to worry."
"Allowed? Yes. But this feels like more than the usual." Rin set her mug down gently. "Aiko… what's going on?"
Aiko exhaled slowly, as though she'd been holding that breath for hours.
How was she supposed to say this? To explain that she was worried that her son had killed a man and kept it a secret from her.
___
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