All might POV
Toshinori's non-existent stomach was in knots, hoping Midoriya could figure out OFA before the exam. But once the examination started, one candidate blew things out of the water to such an extent that even Toshinori was distracted from his successor. The examination feeds dimmed from bright battle footage to a soft mosaic of paused images. Each screen showed a different angle of the same moment: Takeru Kurogane lifting the deactivated zero-pointer as though it weighed nothing, lowering it safely to the ground while panicked examinees were stampeding away from the monstrosity and watching from a safe distance.
The room went quiet for several long seconds. Even All Might, who had fought kaiju-sized villains and stared down death too many times to count, felt the weight of the silence. Young Kurogane had impressed him. All Might himself could not have done a better job; when he could not contain the stampede, he went to the source of the panic and dealt with it.
Principal Nezu broke the silence first, stirring his tea with a gentle clink. "Well," he said with polite cheer, "it seems we have encountered a rather extraordinary examinee this year."
Midnight leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, a slow, appreciative whistle escaping her lips. "Extraordinary? Nezu, please. That boy could bench-press half the planet. Did you see the way his suit fit? Those shoulders? Those arms? If I weren't proctoring, I'd—"
"Midnight, try to be professional," Aizawa interrupted, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"What? I'm praising his… structural integrity."
Cementoss cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation. "His technique was surprisingly refined. No wasted movement. He kept his cool and prioritized saving lives. He destroyed the 0-pointer by exploiting weak points and ensured no collateral damage. That level of restraint is rare in someone his age or his power level."
Snipe nodded. "His flight pattern and speed—I have never seen anything like it. It was absolutely fluid, with no hesitation, even at those speeds."
All Might steepled his fingers, leaning closer to the screens. "His quirk file says: Smart Atoms. A mutation-type enhancement quirk. Strength, durability, and flight through body-density manipulation."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's the sanitized version. His reaction speed and reflexes are far above what most enhancement quirks produce."
Cementoss added, "He reminds me of you in your prime… except he can fly."
All Might didn't deny it. The similarities were uncanny: the forward momentum in combat, the instinctive shielding of civilians, the confidence that radiated from every movement. He is everything the Symbol of Peace needs to be. His own protégé had performed well, but compared to Kurogane, he was still a diamond in the rough. But there was something else beneath the surface that did not sit well. How does he have that much control over his quirk? His suit and support items were all high-end, and he was following protocols that only an experienced pro hero would know. That would not be possible without professional training, not available in some local gym. It felt too perfect.
Nezu set his teacup down with a soft click. "About that."
The room turned toward him. Nezu's cheerful expression never changed, but his eyes sharpened with unmistakable intelligence. "Our investigative team traced the address registered to Kurogane's guardian," Nezu said calmly. "The apartment is legally owned by an HSPC-controlled shell company. His guardian of record is a low-ranking Commission agent."
Aizawa scowled. "So he's been raised under them."
"It appears so," Nezu continued. "Additionally, the Commission previously submitted an attempt to recommend him directly into U.A. this year and then withdrew it. We would have declined on the grounds that recommendations must be initiated by civilian institutions or agencies unrelated to national security, but still, an attempt was made and withdrawn."
Midnight tilted her head. "And now he shows up through the regular exam."
All Might frowned. "So they were grooming him."
Nezu's smile widened, polite yet razor-sharp. "Almost certainly. The Hero Public Safety Commission has… ambitions. And young Kurogane is an asset they would be very proud to claim."
Aizawa leaned forward. "Do we have evidence? The HSPC has a pragmatic streak that is far from idealistic."
"Objectively?" Nezu replied. "He saved more examinees than any other participant. He showed judgment, restraint, and a surprising level of social awareness. I am not concerned about him being dangerous." A pause. "I am concerned about who has shaped him."
All Might felt that line settle heavily in his chest. "Does he have any schooling history?" he asked quietly.
"None," Nezu said. "Beyond what the Commission provided—privately. He has passed all standardized tests but has no schooling history. I did some digging, but the boy has no blood family."
Aizawa sighed. "Another orphan they molded."
Midnight looked softer now, worry slipping past her playful exterior. "Poor kid."
Snipe crossed his arms. "Well, Commission-trained or not, the boy's got heart. He didn't hesitate to shield others."
Nezu nodded approvingly. "Indeed. That is why we must be very careful."
All Might met the principal's gaze. "You intend to accept him."
"Of course," Nezu replied, his voice bright. "A mind shaped by the Commission can still be guided. Especially if we give him something the Commission cannot."
Midnight raised a brow. "And that is?"
Nezu smiled. "Peers. Friendship. A real education. A life that is his, not one written for him."
All Might felt something loosen in his chest—relief, hope, maybe both.
Aizawa muttered, "Assuming he wants it."
"Oh," Nezu said lightly, "I believe he does. Did you see his face when he spoke to that purple ball-haired boy who nearly fell over his shoelaces? Or the way he encouraged that red-haired girl with the enlarged fists? He's searching for something."
"And you think U.A. can give it to him?" All Might asked.
Nezu chuckled. "Oh, Toshinori. I think U.A. is the only place that can."
The screens flickered again, replaying the moment Takeru caught the invisible girl before the stampede crushed her. He moved without thinking, prioritizing saving lives over glory in a way that made All Might's heart glow with pride. Even when I am gone, there will be others to hold up the sky. He will be a great hero, Toshinori knew.
Nezu looked around the room. "Well then. Shall we prepare his acceptance letter?"
Multiple heads nodded. Aizawa hesitated. "We aren't telling the Commission?"
Nezu's smile sharpened. "We don't need their permission to accept a student. And if they want influence here, they can schedule an appointment with my secretary—next available slot is in eight months."
Midnight burst out laughing. Even All Might chuckled despite himself. For a moment, the tension eased—until Snipe asked one final question: "What do we do if the Commission tries to use him?"
Nezu poured himself more tea. "Simple. We give the boy a reason to choose U.A. over them."
All Might watched Takeru's image linger on the screen. The young man's eyes were steady and confident. Toshinori believed in Midoriya, but it eased his heart knowing that there were others out there willing to fight the good fight.
All Might exhaled slowly. "Then let's show him a better path."
Takeru POV
The briefing room felt colder than usual. Shun had a particular way of filling a space before he even opened his mouth, and today the stack of dossiers spread across the glass table promised a conversation far more elaborate than the typical mission update.
"Takeru-kun," Shun began, folding his hands, "your official U.A. acceptance will be delivered today, but we already know the results."
Takeru raised a brow. "Internal leak?"
Shun smiled, not bothering to deny it. "Let's just say certain individuals at U.A. respect the Commission's… interest in you. Congratulations on your first-place performance."
"Takeru-kun," Shun began, sliding a glossy folder toward him, "before we review your class roster, there are… administrative changes you need to be aware of."
Takeru raised an eyebrow. "Administrative?"
Shun steepled his fingers. "First—you are no longer considered a minor under the Commission's authority. As of this morning, you are legally recognized as an emancipated adult."
Takeru blinked once. "That's sudden." Takeru was happy Ren-san had his uses, but Takeru preferred being alone.
"It's logical, considering your exemplary service and conduct," Shun corrected gently. "You start U.A. next month. We cannot have you listed as a dependent. The public image must be clean and heroic."
Takeru understood the subtext: they wanted him free of legal restraints, removing the protection being a minor gave him under the constitution.
"What about Ren?" Takeru asked.
"Relieved of his guardianship duties," Shun replied smoothly. "He will remain in the Commission but no longer lives with you. Instead, you will have a dedicated support team: a chauffeur for transport, and a butler—highly, trustworthy—to maintain your residence and schedule. Consider it part of your new lifestyle package."
"How generous," Takeru said plainly.
Shun smiled without shame. "Incentives. You deserve comfort, and we want you motivated."
Takeru didn't bother responding. They both knew exactly what this was.
Shun opened another folder and revealed a series of printed screenshots. "And now," he said with a hint of mischief, "your social media presence."
"My what?"
Shun tapped one of the pages, showing an account with Takeru's hero silhouette, already verified. "We launched your official hero-prep profile last night. It is managed by our PR team. You already have twelve thousand followers, primarily excited civilians and aspiring hero students. A fan club has formed as well—enthusiastic young women, mostly. Their engagement metrics are excellent."
Takeru stared at him. "You did this without telling me?"
"We're cultivating hype," Shun said smoothly. "By the time you graduate U.A., you will already have the public recognition of a seasoned pro. High rankings on the Billboard charts require popularity as much as power. We intend to give you both."
Again, Takeru said nothing, but he filed it away. The Commission wanted to shape him into a public darling, same as they had done for Hawks, but Takeru had other plans, bigger plans.
Shun slid over the final binder, thickest of all. "Now, onto your classmates."
Takeru opened the dossier. Photos lined the pages, each with detailed quirk notes, psychological evaluations, and risk assessments.
Shun pointed to the first highlighted page. "Todoroki Shoto. Half-Cold, Half-Hot. Son of the current Number Two Hero. Extraordinary potential. Likely the strongest raw quirk ability in your class besides yourself."
Takeru read the notes—temperature regulation, quirk stamina, controlled precision, untapped fire output, psychological restraints due to family dispute (Mother in mental asylum).
"He's powerful," Takeru acknowledged.
"And potentially useful. Befriending him would advantage us greatly," Shun added.
The next page showed a mop of green curls. "Midoriya Izuku," Shun said, his voice tightening with genuine curiosity. "An aberration."
Takeru scanned the profile. Weak physical fitness. Late quirk registration. No heroic lineage. No display of power in the entrance exam until the final moments. Possible physical power enhancement quirk.
Shun leaned back. "Someone with significant pull registered his quirk at fifteen. That should be impossible. Records show no quirk, and then suddenly—approval. Someone circumvented the system."
"You don't know who?" Takeru asked.
Shun shook his head. "Not yet. But Nezu handpicked him for a reason. Watch him closely."
Takeru turned the page. "Katsuki Bakugo. Explosion. Strong destructive output. Volatile temperament. Nitro glycerin sweat through palms."
Takeru smirked faintly. "Hanabi-chan."
"Please," Shun sighed. "Just… refrain from nicknaming him in official reports."
Takeru chuckled.
The dossier continued: Yaoyorozu Momo — Creation. High intelligence. Elite family. (sheltered life). Iida Tenya — Engine. Stiff, disciplined. Strong rescue aptitude. Excellent raw speed. (brother complex). Uraraka Ochako — Gravity manipulation. High rescue viability. (Financially motivated). Tokoyami — Dark Shadow user. Dangerous in night/dark environments. (tendency for theatrics and dark themes).
Every page gave Takeru the same impression: U.A. had collected some powerful students, and considering how the top fifty heroes had 20 U.A. alumni, it was logical to assume some of the people in this list would be future Billboard toppers.
"And your teachers," Shun said, tapping the last tab. "Aizawa Shota—Eraserhead—will be your homeroom. Underground hero. Very pragmatic, no-nonsense guy who shuns the spotlight and is married to the job. Works long nights as well. Keep an eye out for him, as he can cancel quirks, although the effect on you is unknown."
Takeru nodded. "Reasonable."
Then Shun reached for the final document—slightly thinner but marked with a gold tab. "And lastly… All Might."
Takeru paused. "He's teaching?"
"Yes," Shun said. "Part-time faculty. Nezu's arrangement. Publicly, it's framed as inspirational mentorship. Privately… we suspect Nezu has a strategic reason for bringing him into Class 1-A."
Takeru read the summary: All Might's combat philosophy, his emphasis on moral education, his influence on society.
"He is the most idealistic hero alive," Shun finished. "And U.A.'s leadership mirrors that idealism. They don't make the hard decisions the Commission does. They believe smiles and speeches can guide a generation."
Shun's expression hardened slightly. "That is why you matter. You will observe. Report. And provide us with leverage—information on their personalities, ambitions, weaknesses. If any of your classmates rise to prominence, the Commission must be prepared."
Takeru closed the binder. "You want dirt."
Shun shrugged pleasantly. "Call it preventative security."
Takeru stood, dossier in hand. "I don't mind being an assassin, but a spy?"
Shun spread his hands. "Freedom. Resources. An elevated allowance equal to a B-rank hero. Access to our top support technicians. A curated public profile that will make you a star before you ever debut." He let the words settle before adding softly, "And the chance to define your legacy, rather than let U.A. define it for you."
Takeru paused at the door. "Nezu, if that chimera thing is half as smart as your reports say, then he won't fall for your games," he said.
Shun's smile sharpened. "No. He will fall for yours. They have the pathological need to believe the good in others. Understand their weakness, Takeru-kun. Good luck. We are very happy about your progress."
Takeru walked out. But U.A. was next. And whatever waited there, he was ready.