MHA: Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

In short...

To begin with, it's the end of November. Winter in Japan is, of course, a joke, at least in my prefecture, but nevertheless, I've always loved snow and even looked forward to it a little, when it starts to fall from the sky like gentle dandruff. Yes, yes, suck it up, school kids under pink sakuras, I'm a romantic too.

The end of the year means a lot of things—both good and bad—but for me, it's primarily about school exams, which are getting harder to brush off like flies each year, a slight hint of nostalgia for my first homeland, Yui's birthday, which is coming up soon, and my own, which is just after the New Year.

Now, let's talk about the latter.

Who can congratulate me? Well, Yui, well, the cat-girl Akari, a couple of classmates, well, Mashirao... no, that's all not quite right.

Parents—the true fear and horror of Nirengeki Shoda!

So, since my birthday is in a month and a half, my parents started stirring about it.

What can you give to a brutal guy like me?

Nothing.

I don't ask for money, I don't go to parties, my training and everything else have been arranged for a long time, all the equipment for them is in place. And if not, I'll buy it myself—I've saved up a bit.

Not good—there's a son, there's a birthday, but nothing to give.

What is important for the son? My parents sat down to think about it.

And they came up with something so outlandish that you don't know whether to grab your head, laugh, or look for symbolism and the hand of some unknown force that shoved me into this world.

The point is, the only thing they're sure about that interests me is my desire to get into U.A. Not just any school for professionals, but the best one in the country. Maybe even in the world.

Alright. "And how can your parents help you with this?"—see the point "all the training has long been arranged." That's what I thought, and I wasn't worried about them on that account.

However...

"Niren, dear, your father and I have been thinking... and decided to apply for U.A. on your behalf by recommendation! We were going to keep it a surprise until your birthday," Mom rattled off, "but it turned out the commission has two stages of selection for applicants, and registration for the first one is already in December, so for you to have time to register, we need to apply now..."

Well, I might as well stand or fall.

Apparently sensing something from my expression, Mom was already preparing to get upset, gathering her artillery in the form of teardrops in the corners of her eyes (yeah, she doesn't drag it out with such things), while Dad sighed tiredly, though without any surprise.

So I had to hastily say something, which I managed to do poorly:

"I... thank you, Mom, Dad, but this is not... - 'not my path of the ninja, dammit,' - Unexpected. Very unexpected. You see, I really need... - 'hell, I can't tell them the main reason,' - Time to think. Yes. Let's get back to this conversation tomorrow, okay? I'll try to explain everything clearly and step by step. Don't be upset, Mom, alright?"

***

Maybe someone else in my place, maybe even another "isekai traveler," if there are any, would be happy about such a plot twist. After all, there's a legal and reliable way to get into the best academy, essentially without exams. And I had no doubt that I would pass both the first round of selection and the second (what is it anyway, an obstacle course where other participants are hurdles? Don't make me laugh).

What's the problem, then?

First of all, I'm not an idiot, and I considered this option.

And I concluded that it has more drawbacks.

First of all: if we accept as an axiom that "this world equals anime," all key events, like the villains' attack on the disaster training ground, revolve around the main character and his unlucky (though that's debatable) classmates.

Therefore, to influence anything, to save people, to help kick All-For-One's ass, I absolutely have to get into the U.A.'s "A" class.

At first glance, the chances of getting there by recommendation are fifty percent, because there are only four such students, two for each class, and at this stage, I suppose I could outdo any of them except Todoroki. Not bad at all.

But if you dig deeper, the chances are... zero.

It's all about prestige. No matter how much the U.A. teachers and PR people claim otherwise and emphasize the equality of the classes, the brightest and potentially most successful students are placed in "A." The son of the number two hero is there, and I can't beat that bet. The genius Momo is there, and I don't recall her racing alongside Shoto. Could it be because she's recommended by the Japanese government and not just a pro-hero? Nah, just a coincidence, pff... and yeah, the fact that All Might's protege will be studying there is also a coincidence, right?

In any case, it's obvious that I won't get into the "main character" class by recommendation.

Furthermore, there's more. In one of the U.A. press conferences I watched, Present Mic was pushing the idea that both classes try to be evenly matched in terms of the variety of quirks represented—so that there's camouflage, brute strength, and tactics—so that future heroes have experience working with different types of allies. For the same reason, the steel guy and... um... Kirishima, I think, Midoriya's classmate who can harden his body to near-indestructibility, didn't end up in the same class.

So, I can authoritatively say that this is all crap! It was enough to spend half an hour surfing the existing Wikipedia here and read the history of U.A.'s creation from open sources to understand: the hero "B" class was created as an additional political and public tool.

Of course, a lot has changed since then, but the tendencies remain the same.

What do I mean? That while there are officially four recommended heroes, in reality, there are more than ten (I got lazy to google, maybe way more) from various institutions. Such as: exchange students from other countries, specifically from the USA (in my admission year, it's supposed to be some Pony Tsunotori, a wild mix of Japanese, American, and Italian blood) and China (some Rin, just Rin), students from various public organizations like nature conservationists (like that girl cosplaying a toadstool), students recommended by industrial and military corporations (for example, that guy who could do molecular welding, I don't remember his name), and even from the freaking church!

No, seriously!

There was one creepy lady with clear head issues in the anime, with predatory vines growing out of her, who gave me goosebumps even in my past life. A fanatic. So, ten years later in this reality, it took me just a minute of clicking to find her photo on the... Progressive Christianity website, which, though having lost its positions significantly due to quirks, was quite successfully competing with Shintoism for the Japanese flock.

Religion, in general, changed significantly after quirks appeared, ceasing to be a mechanism controlling millions and mostly turning into something like private volunteer clubs. Like the "Creature Rejection Clan," except not crazed xenophobe racists like the latter, but with a more positive connotation.

However, Christianity, Islam, and especially Shintoism have stayed afloat. These are the ones I know of. Well, the first two are clear, but Shintoism got a second wind because quirks, especially those that change appearance, fit well with its tenets and traditions.

On the whole, though, the world has become much more atheistic. Which, to be honest, surprised me. You're walking down the street, you see a real Satan, and instead of buying your soul for a harem of succubi, he's talking to you about stock market reports. Phantasmagoria.

Alright, I've digressed again. Like an old man, for Kami-sama's sake.

So, can you guess where all these "unofficially recommended" go?

That's right, to the specially created "B" class.

Given all of the above, I have little chance of getting into even the "B" class by recommendation, as half of the spots there are already reserved years in advance. Moreover, the results of the "race," which I vaguely remember from the anime and better from the U.A. website, seem like a fiction to me. Like, "Todoroki, don't think that just because you're Endeavor's son, you'll get special treatment," and all that.

Meanwhile, the abilities of all four recommended students, if I recorded my memories correctly and "the world equals anime," would give my skills a hundred points head start. And the fact that I can outdo them doesn't mean anything—give them twenty years of practice, and not only me, but entire cities will be leveled to the ground by all four of them. If they went over to the "dark side of the Force," there would be a disaster—a terrorist demolishing buildings, in the case of the guy who can soften inorganics, or an aerial bombing terrorist dropping a hundred or two bombs on any city from the sky alone, in the case of that girl who could split her body into autonomous parts. S...etsuna something or other, I think.

And Tomura, whom I couldn't save in time, would have been on the same list if things had gone differently... damn.

It pisses me off. Every time I think about this guy, it pisses me off that I couldn't do anything... just like with the Todoroki family. Just like with Eri, Toga, and Twice...

Yes, there are plenty of broken destinies in this world.

Now, where was I...

This is just the first point.

The second, equally important one is that, by entering U.A. through recommendation, I automatically attract the attention of the world's powerful. Of course, this will eventually become inevitable, and I don't intend to hold back at the Sports Festival (which I watched this year with one eye; the Big Three and some other guy who controls thermodynamics give even professionals a run for their money!). But this tournament will take place after the events with the Nomu and the Catastrophes, and by then I'll already be exposed automatically.

But if I can somehow influence the fact that the Nomu crippled All Might... ideally even prevent it... wait. I've run these thoughts over a hundred times; there's no need to torture myself unnecessarily.

The third and less important reason, which I decided to emphasize when talking to my parents, is that I WANTED challenges. I wanted a fight. I wanted a battle, a test of my abilities in a combat environment, essentially my first real fight in this world, even if it's not against villains but against training, fragile yet sturdy steel robots. In a couple of months after the exam, I'll have to send villains either to the hospital or straight to the morgue, and I haven't even stood in a real fight to the death yet.

Years of preparation... a completely drained, literally painfully killed second childhood. All this will be in vain if I'm simply not capable of striking to kill in battle... so it's time to see what I'm really worth, Niren Shoda.

That's the deal.

***

The next day, we had THE TALK.

It wasn't easy.

However, I managed to convince my parents to withdraw the application, so it never went beyond preliminary agreements, a few phone calls, and some correspondence with a representative of U.A.'s admissions committee.

First, I convinced my dad, because logic works on him ("...those who get into U.A. by official recommendation aren't just strong people; they're literally human weapons of strategic national scale, Dad. I've already gone over Yaoyorozu, and then there's Shoto Todoroki…").

Then I convinced Mom, since she is moved by how beaten and miserable I look during training ("...I'm really grateful to you, honestly, but I want you to understand that I have my own perspective on this—I've worked so hard, shed so much sweat, and you're suggesting I get in not because of my efforts, but because of, essentially, an assessment of the great potential of my quirk, something I was born with...")—we can't let all that go to waste, can we?

Then I had to answer what I wanted for my birthday, but I was already so relaxed after my verbal victory (I'm not good at this, I'm not good at all!) that I almost blurted out "a woman."

Psychological age and early biological maturation—I wasn't even fourteen yet, but I'd already surpassed my dad in height!—made themselves felt more and more often, but I usually didn't pay attention to such nonsense, being busy with training and surrounded by kids. Once I get in, maybe I should visit a brothel...

***

A week later was Yui's birthday—December nineteenth.

To be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect from this event. On the one hand, we talked a lot, debated superhero and non-superhero topics, and ended up becoming quite close, to the point that Yui herself joked that she was my padawan.

On the other hand, well, she's a fourteen-year-old girl who, by definition, should consider boys her age to be idiots, and I, biologically, am exactly an idi— I mean, a boy her age.

And thirdly, it's Yui. She was never completely cold or unemotional, of course. But perhaps because of a childhood where she seemed unwanted by anyone, she withdrew into herself, became less confident, and thus less inclined to show emotion. But if you lift that upper layer, all those emotions are still there. A defensive reaction, I think. That's how it was in the version of reality portrayed in the show.

But after a couple of years of our camaraderie, the dynamics in the school group that made me sweat through debates, successes in training, and hard work, she became much more confident—started speaking louder and clearer, holding her posture straight, looking directly ahead. Compulsive habits like fiddling with a matryoshka keychain or crumpling her clothes disappeared.

However, to my surprise, the "ice queen" image actually strengthened, and Yui expressed emotions even less frequently. But now, it wasn't a defense mechanism; it was a deliberately chosen tactic of a huntress—and, I must say, this approach worked flawlessly.

She didn't treat me this way, though, was still cautious—but just for now!—but the poor guys from the parallel classes she brushed off... I even felt uncomfortable because of some interspecies solidarity.

So, I wasn't expecting an invitation to a wild party from her—after all, she only really talks to me and Akari-neko—but I still tried to be prepared for anything.

And yet, I wasn't prepared at all.

That day, meeting her, as was our habit, early in the morning, I handed her a subscription for a three-month motorcycle driving course. From my experience in my past life, I knew you could learn to ride a bike decently in a month, but for a girl, I chose a better (and more reliable) option.

Perhaps a gift for a teenage girl is indeed strange, but hey, we're heroes of a superhero anime, where the whole world is obsessed with this theme! Yui, almost like me, had developed a mindset geared toward career benefit. So, I had no doubt she would like the gift—we'd discussed many times that her main weakness as a hero was a lack of mobility.

For the past six months, she had, by the way, been carrying a scooter as a keychain. At first, we thought about buying her a real one and shrinking it with her quirk, but it turned out she couldn't keep it shrunken for that long, it took too much energy, so we found an almost exact replica of a real one but in miniature. And it really worked when enlarged—we checked!

Well, in the future, we'll save up for an actual motorcycle... she'll hide it in her pocket, be the coolest girl in U.A., give rides to all sorts of foolish admirers...

Blushing slightly, Yui solemnly promised:

"I'll definitely give you a ride!"

It was nice, though my first reaction was to laugh, quite unromantically.

After school, despite the snow, we took our usual walk to the park, also habitually discussing the possibilities of using her quirk.

We rarely touched on mine—not that I was against it, although I tried to keep my cards close to my chest, but more because Yui herself was firmly convinced that I knew best without her.

This time, we discussed the functionality of her future costume, the design and theme of which she had already come up with (unlike me). But she refused to share—it was supposed to be a surprise.

In the conversation, I emphasized the aspect of protection:

"...not to mention that you could secure small plates of hard but lightweight material on your thighs, chest, and forearms, and, if necessary, by touching them, enlarge these plates, creating a shield right on your body. A hero's work is dangerous; criminals often have firearms, and even more often—combat quirks that are much more dangerous than bullets. Let's make a list of suitable materials for the plates, considering weight as well..."

And so on.

Of course, I was exaggerating a bit, but it was all for Yui's benefit, to keep her safer. And we shouldn't forget about the yakuza, either.

Yui, wrapped up in her jacket, on her part, was more focused on mobility and attack.

Firstly, she had already started practicing parkour—in her free time using various improvised items, like her staff or a trash can. So far, it wasn't going great because she lacked precise judgment—enlargement happens quickly, and, say, to jump onto a roof, you need to enlarge the object to roughly the right size—not too much smaller, not too much bigger... especially not too much bigger, because overly enlarged trash cans break through the walls of these houses.

Yes, yes, collateral damage, welcome to the club.

Secondly, she recently came up with a simple, elementary, but no less brilliant idea, which completely slipped my mind: if Kodai can shrink, use as a ranged projectile, and then enlarge objects to, let's say, throw a barrel or a car at an enemy, why not use a simple... slingshot to increase attack distance?

I admit, I was stunned when I first heard this. A slingshot, say, built into a glove, or just an elastic band that allows her to fling cars. Ha. Ha-ha. It's so obvious...

Niren, how did you miss that? Niren, are you even Nirengeki?

Yui, flushed from the light frost, was more than pleased with my reaction.

I suppose the first part of my romantic comedy was a success...

The conversation naturally died down.

From the steel-gray sky, rare snowflakes were slowly falling, setting a melancholic mood.

And yes—as I expected, Yui wasn't planning any parties.

But what I didn't expect was the request that followed from her—after all, people rarely ask for a birthday gift for themselves... especially after already receiving one... although, this is Yui we're talking about, remember how our conversation started...

Stepping slightly ahead and turning decisively, making the edges of her plaid skirt flutter like a superhero's cape, Yui turned to me with bright eyes—where did that shy, stuttering girl go?

"Niren, I have a request for you, as a friend and as someone I greatly respect. I want you to personally assess my level of training. I hope... I think I'm ready! I'm sure that you, Niren, will be one of the best in U.A., and I... don't want to lag behind you!"—she then slightly leaned forward, looking into my eyes. "Would you... mind having a few sparring sessions?"

"A few?"

"Well... several?"—she smiled slightly, nervously.

Perhaps someone else in my place would have reacted differently. Perhaps even been more right in their actions. Perhaps...

But what do I care how someone else would have acted in my place? I don't give a damn about that.

The only thing that matters is how I act—because I am the main character of this story, and this is MY story.

I grinned broadly in response:

"I'd be glad to."