Late at night, inside U.A. High School's medical ward.
Masata lay quietly on the hospital bed when his eyelids suddenly twitched.
Slowly—very slowly—he forced his eyes open.
Darkness greeted him.
"…Am I in the hospital?"
There was no light inside the sealed ward, but Masata could clearly feel that his hands were fixed to the bed. The faint sound of dripping fluid confirmed it—he was on an IV.
"Just woke up… so my overdrafted body still hasn't fully recovered?"
He tried to sit up, but the weakness surging through his body instantly shut that idea down.
"…Yeah, figures."
Still, Masata could feel something reassuring.
"There shouldn't be any major problems. My arms have sensation again."
As long as that was the case, full recovery was only a matter of time.
Unable to sleep and with nothing else to do, Masata simply lay there, staring into the darkness.
"What exactly happened back then…?"
His thoughts drifted back to USJ—to the moment he broke free from Tomura Shigaraki's grasp and charged at Kurogiri.
At that time, Masata had felt… strange.
It was as if he himself had become magma.
Before, controlling magma required enormous physical exertion—forcing it to remain compressed inside his body, maintaining it in a near-eruption state. But back then, the magma had moved as naturally as his own limbs.
Coating his body in lava was one thing.
But forming an actual set of armor?
That should have been impossible.
It was like the difference between grabbing a handful of sand… and sculpting it into a detailed statue. Normally, Masata could only barely maintain rough shapes through brute force.
Yet at USJ—
The magma had obeyed him.
Perfectly.
Remembering that sensation made his blood begin to boil again.
"Was that a breakthrough in my Magma Quirk?"
"…Or was it triggered by the mysterious [Cell Enhancement]?"
"If I can control magma that easily in the future…"
"…then my strength would jump to an entirely new level."
Before, techniques like Heaven Dog or large-scale eruptions didn't just consume stamina—they strained his body because the magma was forcibly restrained and constantly on the verge of explosion.
But in that state at USJ?
Those same techniques would consume far less energy—and be even more powerful.
The more Masata thought about it, the more excited he became.
Lost in thoughts of future growth, he didn't even notice when time passed.
By the time he snapped out of it—
The sky outside was already bright.
Click.
The door opened softly.
Recovery Girl, leaning on her cane, entered the ward—followed by a thin, gaunt blond man.
"I told you there was no need to come, All Might," Recovery Girl said.
"This kid's vitality is outrageous."
"All Might?"
Masata turned his head toward the door.
What he saw wasn't the towering, muscular Symbol of Peace—but a skeletal man wearing a loose golden suit.
"…?"
Both Recovery Girl and the man froze in surprise.
Neither of them had expected Masata to wake up so soon.
Realizing that his secret form had been seen, All Might calmly closed the door behind him.
"As you can see, Igarashi," he said seriously,
"I am All Might—the Symbol of Peace."
"…What?"
After a long and rather exhausting explanation, Masata finally accepted the truth.
"So… you're conscious now," Recovery Girl said,
"but your body still hasn't fully recovered."
Masata learned that he had been unconscious for a full day.
It had already been two days since the USJ incident.
"Yeah," Masata replied calmly.
"But my body's a little special. As long as nutrition keeps up, I recover fast. Otherwise, I wouldn't have woken up this early."
"My basic movements are already fine," he added.
"I'll just eat more and recover naturally."
As if to prove his point, Masata swung his legs off the bed and jumped lightly to the floor.
"That's impressive," All Might said, nodding.
"After all, you can't just miss class."
Then his tone shifted.
"And more importantly—
Igarashi Masata, you did an outstanding job at USJ."
With a burst of steam, All Might returned to his muscular form.
"As your teacher," he said proudly,
"I couldn't be more relieved. Aizawa-kun will be proud of you too!"
Masata didn't bother being modest.
After all, he had fought with his life on the line.
A familiar grin spread across his face—arrogant, confident, and unmistakably Masata.
"Of course."
Not long after, Masata—officially discharged—strolled back toward his classroom with an energy bar in his mouth.
Just as he reached the classroom door, he heard a familiar voice from inside.
"—Isn't that Aizawa-sensei?"
Masata pushed the door open.
A mummy stood before him.
"…Oh," the mummy said lazily,
"Good morning."
That unmistakably decadent tone instantly confirmed it.
"Yep. Definitely him."
The moment the class saw Masata, the room exploded with reactions.
"Masata! You're okay!"
Yaoyorozu Momo's eyes instantly turned red.
Beside her, Uraraka Ochaco laughed with pure relief, her previously misty eyes lighting up.
"Tch. Tough bastard," Bakugo Katsuki muttered—his usual way of showing concern.
The loudest reactions came from Kirishima and Mineta, who rushed forward without hesitation.
"Hey, Sensei!" Masata laughed.
"Aren't you a little too dedicated? You're basically mummified!"
Aizawa sighed.
"Sit down. There's an announcement."
"And everyone—quiet."
His tired eyes swept across the room.
"The battle… isn't over yet."
The class froze.
"What?!"
"Another villain attack?!"
"Already?!"
Just as panic started to rise—
"The U.A. Sports Festival," Aizawa continued calmly,
"is approaching."
A beat.
Then—
"The biggest on-campus event of the year."