(Kenjiro's POV)
Two days after the Sports Festival, and the world hadn't stopped screaming my name.
No joke. It was like someone hit the unmute button on the universe and suddenly everyone had something to say about Sasaki Kenjiro—the mochi-flinging first-year who flattened Katsuki Bakugo in front of a stadium full of pros.
The train ride to U.A. was a mess. Whispers, phone cameras, gasps. At one point, some kid shoved a ratty notebook in my face and asked for an autograph like I was All Might's long-lost nephew. I signed it lazily, scratching my name across the page while Midoriya—bless him—looked like he'd just been handed a cursed artifact.
"T-Thank you for supporting us!" he stammered, bowing so hard his forehead almost dented the seat in front of him.
"Relax," I muttered, eyes half-lidded as I leaned into the window. "You're gonna give yourself a concussion at this rate."
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "S-Sorry! It's just… weird. People recognizing me."
"Get used to it," I said, watching our reflection blur across the glass. "You're in the big leagues now, Deku."
As if summoned by the words punctuality gremlin, the second the train doors hissed open, Tenya Ida was already there, chopping his arms like a malfunctioning robot.
"Midoriya! Sasaki! We have precisely seven minutes before homeroom begins! Delay is unacceptable!"
Midoriya squeaked, practically launching out of his seat to follow Ida like a duckling on a deadline. I took my time. Watching Ida herd Midoriya toward the lockers like a one-man marching band was more entertaining than half the crap on TV.
When we reached the lockers, Ida was already aggressively inserting his shoes with military precision.
"My brother is… recovering," he blurted without prompting. "There's no need for concern."
Okay, that was random.
Midoriya blinked. "O-Oh! That's—that's great, Iida!"
Ida adjusted his glasses like the force of the motion might make the conversation disappear.
"Indeed. Now we should—"
"You're a terrible liar," I interrupted, leaning against the lockers, arms crossed.
He stiffened. Midoriya looked ready to melt through the floor.
"I don't know what you—"
"Your left eyebrow twitches when you lie," I said, pointing casually. "And you've reorganized your locker three times in two minutes. You're stressed."
His jaw clenched like he was trying to crush the truth between his teeth. For a second, I thought he'd snap. Instead, he sighed, the fight leaking out of him.
"…It's complicated."
Midoriya opened his mouth, probably to deliver one of his world-famous emotional monologues, but the warning bell cut him off.
Ida's posture straightened like someone hit his reset button. "We'll be late."
And just like that, we were back to business.
Classroom 1-A was a zoo as usual.
Kirishima was flexing like someone had dared him to burst a blood vessel. Kaminari was trying to balance a pencil on his nose with all the focus of a neurosurgeon. Ashido and Sero were mid-debate over whether "Alien Queen" was a lawsuit waiting to happen.
Then Aizawa walked in.
Boom. Silence.
No bandages. No eye bags darker than the void. Just a tired man in a jumpsuit who looked like he was barely tolerating our existence.
"Hero Informatics," he said, slapping a thick stack of papers onto the desk. "You're choosing your code names today."
Cue nuclear detonation.
"HELL YEAH!" Kirishima roared.
"FINALLY!" Mina whooped, high-fiving Sero.
"Settle down," Aizawa droned. "This ties into your draft picks. Offers can be rescinded, so don't get cocky."
He pressed a button on the projector. A list of names and numbers flickered to life behind him.
Sasaki Kenjiro: 4,872Shoto Todoroki: 4,301Katsuki Bakugo: 3,956Izuku Midoriya: 3,542…Denki Kaminari: 387
The room's energy shifted.
Kaminari slumped in his seat. "Dude. What's the point?"
Jiro rolled her eyes. "At least you got offers, idiot."
Momo turned to Todoroki, her smile warm. "Congratulations. You received the second-highest number!"
Todoroki didn't even glance her way. "It's just my father's influence."
Sero nodded toward the list. "Guess that's why Bakugo's lower. Pros saw the awards ceremony and peaced out."
Bakugo's chair screeched as he kicked his feet onto his desk. "Good. Weaklings aren't worth my time."
Uraraka clutched her own paper, practically glowing. "I got offers! We got offers, Iida!"
He nodded like a wind-up toy. "A… modest but honorable number."
Me?
I just stared at my number.
4,872.
That many heroes wanted me.
And not a single one of them had a damn clue what I was really capable of.
Midnight strutted in like a dominatrix on a mission, slappping a stack of blank name boards onto Aizawa's desk.
"Alright, little heroes," she purred. "Today, you'll pick your hero names. And I get final approval."
Everyone gulped in unison.
"Fear keeps you humble," she added, smiling with teeth. "Now. Who's first?"
Aoyama shot up like he'd been waiting for this his whole life.
"Moi shall go! I CANNOT STOP TWINKLING!"
Everyone stared.
"…What?" Kaminari muttered.
Midnight blinked. "Approved. But we're shortening it to 'Can't Stop Twinkling.'"
Aoyama swooned. "Magnifique!"
Then the floodgates opened.
Ashido bounced on her toes. "Alien Queen!"
Midnight cracked her whip. "Denied. Copyright."
"Ugh, fine. Pinky."
"Approved."
Tsuyu raised a hand. "Rainy Season Hero: Froppy."
Sero nodded. "Finally, someone normal."
Kirishima slammed his fists together. "Sturdy Hero: Red Riot!"
Midnight's grin widened. "Homage. Approved."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Midoriya flinch. Fingers twitching toward his notebook. Kid was overthinking again.
"Just call yourself Jamming-Way and get it over with," Jiro muttered to Kaminari.
"…Wait, that's actually cool."
"It was an insult."
"…Oh."
Tokoyami's "Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi" was about as edgy as expected.
Momo's "Everything Hero: Creati" was so pristine it belonged on a business card.
Todoroki? "Shoto."
Midnight blinked. "That's it?"
"It's my name."
"Boring, but fine."
Then came Bakugo.
"King Explosion Murder."
The class froze.
Midnight smiled, but her eyes narrowed. "Try again."
Bakugo clicked his tongue and stomped back to his seat, muttering death threats.
Uraraka stood, fists clenched. "Uravity."
The cheers that followed were ridiculous. Good for her, though.
Only four of us left.
Tenya rose like a soldier. "Turbo Hero: Ingenium."
Midnight's expression softened. "Approved."
Midoriya next. He looked like he'd puke.
"I… Deku."
Kaminari blinked. "Wait, like… useless?"
Uraraka whacked his arm. "It means determination, idiot!"
Midnight tilted her head. "You sure?"
He nodded. "It's what she called me. I'll make it mean something else."
"Approved."
Then it was my turn.
I didn't move. Didn't blink.
Just leaned back in my chair and said:
"Mochi King."
Silence.
Then—
"Hell yes," Kirishima whispered.
Midnight smirked. "Confident. Arrogant. Perfect. Approved."
Bakugo's chair groaned again as he kicked his desk. "Tch. Should've gone with Poundcake."
I shot him a grin. "Jealous, Dynamight?"
His palms sparked.
"I'LL KILL YOU—"
Aizawa's scarf wrapped around his mouth like a gag.
"Enough."
Midnight clapped her hands. "And that's a wrap! Congratulations, heroes—you're official now!"
Everyone burst into cheers.
But me? I just stared out the window as the sunlight spilled across the glass.
Mochi King.
Yeah. It fit.
And soon?
The world would know exactly why.