The Midoriya apartment smelled like coffee and catastrophe prevention.
Izuku stood at the door, fully dressed and ready to leave. Dark winter coat over his signature black turtleneck. Tailored charcoal pants that fit just right. Leather boots polished to a shine. His silver chain caught the morning light streaming through the windows.
He looked good. He felt ready. He wanted to leave.
His mother had other plans.
Inko stood directly in front of the door, arms crossed, eyes bright with maternal intensity. No tears this morning. She had upgraded from emotional to tactical.
"Did you eat enough?"
Izuku opened his mouth.
"I made you an extra protein bar. It's in the side pocket. The left one. Did you check the left pocket?"
He closed his mouth.
"Your registration form is in the right pocket, yes? I double checked it last night but you should triple check. Actually, let me see it."
"Mom."
She ignored him completely, reaching for his coat. Izuku gently caught her wrist.
"I have everything."
"And your flashcards?" Inko produced a thick stack from behind her back like a magician revealing her finale. "A quick review on the train couldn't hurt."
Izuku took the stack, smiled his most charming smile, and kissed his mother on the forehead.
"Yes, Mom. Yes to all of it. I've been preparing for this my entire life. The last ten years of training was the studying. Today is just the final exam."
Inko's stern expression cracked. Her eyes went soft.
Izuku gently moved her aside, hand on the doorknob.
"I'll call you when it's over."
She grabbed his sleeve. One last thing. Always one last thing.
"Just... knock 'em dead, sweetheart."
He gave her a confident wink that would have made Hano laugh and his future classmates deeply uncomfortable.
"That's the plan."
The February air hit Izuku's face like a wake up call from reality.
Cold. Crisp. The kind of morning that made your lungs hurt in a good way.
He walked toward the subway station with his hands in his coat pockets, shoulders relaxed, moving with that lazy stride that made him look like he owned the sidewalk and was graciously allowing others to use it.
Outwardly, pure confidence.
Inwardly, his brain was having a full scale meltdown.
Okay. Calm. Cool. Collected. It's just an exam. A simple test to see if I'm qualified. It's not like my entire life's purpose, the culmination of ten years of hellish training, and the crushing weight of Hano's expectations are all riding on the next six hours. Nope. Not at all. Just another day where I either succeed spectacularly or fail so hard my mother stress-eats herself back to her old weight and Hano beats me with a stick for wasting his time.
A passing businessman gave him a weird look.
Izuku realized he was scowling.
He took a deep breath. The kind Hano taught him when he was twelve and panicking about sparring for the first time. In through the nose. Hold. Out through the mouth.
The anxiety vanished like smoke.
Get a grip. You're ready. You're stronger than them. You're smarter than them. This isn't a test. It's a debut. Time to show U.A. what a decade of suffering looks like when it walks through their front door.
Better.
Much better.
He descended the stairs into Musutafu Station with his game face on and his internal monologue finally under control.
Platform 3 was a zoo.
Nervous teenagers everywhere. The air tasted like collective anxiety and too much body spray. Everyone wore their best clothes, their most confident expressions, their "please accept me I'm special" energy.
Izuku found a spot against a pillar and leaned, content to wait for the train in relative peace.
Then he saw her.
Except he didn't see her.
What he saw was a uniform. A girls' uniform. Pleated skirt sitting at just the right height. Form-fitting thigh-high socks. A cream colored sweater that was filled out in ways that defied several laws of physics and possibly God's will.
No head. No hands. No visible person.
Just curves and fabric floating in midair like someone had ctrl-alt-deleted a human being but forgot to remove the outfit.
Well now. What do we have here?
He stared.
Not a casual glance. A full, unapologetic, head-tilted-slightly-to-the-left stare.
Advanced stealth Quirk. Full body invisibility. The clothes aren't affected so it's definitely a mutation type that only alters biological tissue. Probably permanent activation based on how casually she's standing in public. Interesting. The tactical applications are absurd. Perfect for espionage, hostage situations, infiltration work. You could ghost through security like it doesn't exist.
The uniform shifted nervously.
Izuku's eyes narrowed.
But what really demands respect is the structural integrity of that sweater. Either god-tier genetics or the world's most underappreciated support item. The weight distribution alone suggests...
"Uhm... h-hello?"
Izuku blinked.
A voice. Sweet. Slightly timid. Coming from the empty space above the sweater's collar.
"Can I... help you with something?"
Oh.
Oh no.
He'd been caught staring.
At an invisible girl.
Directly at chest height.
For an uncomfortably long time.
"My apologies. I didn't mean to stare."
The uniform's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"It's just... your Quirk is fascinating. Truly top-tier. I got lost analyzing it."
Pause.
The invisible girl made a sound that might have been a surprised squeak.
"O-Oh! You think so?!"
Her voice went up an octave, transforming from nervous to excited in half a second.
"Most people just find it weird or bump into me! Like, all the time! Do you know how many times I've been stepped on in crowded places? So many times!"
Izuku pushed off the pillar, genuinely interested now.
"Weird? It's a strategic masterpiece." He gestured vaguely at where her face probably was. "You must be heading to the U.A. exam as well. With an advantage like that, you're practically guaranteed to dominate any stealth scenario they throw at you."
The uniform actually bounced.
Literally bounced.
Someone was excited.
"You really think so?! Oh my gosh, thank you! I've been so nervous because everyone always talks about flashy Quirks and I'm just... invisible. But I've been working super hard on my light refraction techniques and I think I can actually..."
She kept talking.
Izuku kept smiling.
"...and that's why I think being a Spotlight Hero is totally possible even with an invisibility Quirk! Oh! I'm Toru, by the way. Toru Hagakure."
She extended a glove toward him.
Izuku shook the floating hand, noting the soft fabric and the way she gripped with genuine enthusiasm.
"Izuku Midoriya. Pleasure to meet you."
"Wait. THE Izuku Midoriya?!"
He paused.
"The?"
"From the news! The beach cleanup guy! Oh my gosh you looked so cool and confident and you carried that refrigerator like it was nothing and..."
Oh.
Right.
The news segment had aired recently.
Apparently it had made an impression.
Toru was practically vibrating with excitement now, her uniform shifting as she presumably gestured wildly.
"I told all my friends I was totally going to meet you at U.A. and they said I was being ridiculous but HERE YOU ARE! This is amazing! We're going to be classmates! Probably! If we both pass! Which we totally will!"
The train pulled into the station with a hiss of brakes and a rush of displaced air.
Doors slid open.
The crowd surged forward.
Izuku gestured toward the train with exaggerated courtesy.
"After you. Wouldn't want you to disappear into the crowd."
Toru giggled. Actually giggled.
"That's such a good line! Do you use that on all the invisible girls or am I special?"
"You're the first invisible girl I've met. So by default, you're the most special."
Another giggle.
They stepped onto the train together, Izuku smoothly navigating the crowd while keeping track of the floating uniform beside him.
He found two seats near the back. Toru took the window seat, her skirt settling as she sat. Izuku dropped into the seat next to her, long legs stretched out comfortably.
"So," Toru's voice was bright, conversational, "what's your Quirk? The news segment didn't say anything specific and I've been dying to know. Is it super strength? Enhanced endurance? Ooh, is it one of those stockpiling types?"
Izuku's smile didn't waver.
"You'll have to watch me during the practical exam. I don't like spoiling the surprise."
"Aww, come on! Not even a hint?"
"Nope."
"Not even a tiny one?"
"Not even microscopic."
She pouted. He couldn't see it but he could hear it in her voice.
"You're mean."
"I'm aware."
The train lurched forward, beginning its journey toward U.A. High School.
Toru started talking again, this time about her favorite Pro Heroes and their costume designs. Apparently she had Opinions with a capital O about Midnight's choice of, well, everything.
Izuku half-listened, offering appropriate responses while his mind drifted back to the task ahead.
The entrance exam. His debut. The moment where he proved that ten years of hell had been worth it.
His phone buzzed.
A text from Hano.
> Don't embarrass me, brat. If you fail, I'm telling everyone you cried during training.
Izuku snorted.
> I'll pass. Then I'll come back and finally beat you.
> You're 0 for 541. What makes you think 542 will be different?
> Spite.
> Fair enough. Good luck.
Izuku pocketed his phone.
Beside him, Toru had moved on to discussing the various hero agencies and which ones had the best internship programs.
"What about you?" she asked suddenly. "Any agencies you're interested in?"
Izuku leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-closed.
"Haven't thought that far ahead yet. First, pass the exam. Second, survive the media attention. Third, dominate the Sports Festival. After that, I'll worry about agencies."
"You sound really confident."
"I am."
Toru went quiet for a moment. Then, softer, "I'm really nervous, actually. What if I'm not good enough? What if everyone else is way stronger and I just... fade into the background? More than usual, I mean."
Izuku opened one eye, looking at where her face should be.
"You know what I learned over the past ten years?"
"What?"
"Everyone's nervous. Everyone doubts themselves. The only difference between the people who succeed and the people who don't is that the winners show up anyway."
The uniform shifted as Toru turned to face him.
"That's... actually really good advice."
"I'm occasionally wise. Usually by accident."
She laughed again.
The train began to slow.
Outside the windows, U.A. High School came into view.
Massive. Imposing. The kind of building that looked like it had been designed by someone who really wanted you to feel small.
Izuku stood, rolling his shoulders.
Toru bounced to her feet beside him.
The doors opened.
They stepped onto the platform along with dozens of other nervous, excited, terrified teenagers.
Izuku looked up at U.A.'s main building, its windows gleaming in the morning sun.
Here we go. Time to make good on ten years of promises.
Beside him, Toru grabbed his sleeve.
"Hey, Midoriya?"
"Hmm?"
"Let's both pass, okay? I want to be classmates."
He grinned.
"Deal."