The atmosphere in Class 1-A is downright eerie when we return from the training ground. Ten empty desks, half the class, stand as silent monuments to Aizawa's ruthlessness. The remaining nine of us filter in quietly, the usual first-day excitement completely evaporated.
I slide into my seat, aware of the empty desk next to mine. An hour ago, a kid named Matsuda sat there, quirk: bone manipulation. Now he's probably cleaning out whatever few personal items he managed to unpack before Aizawa's test.
"This is messed up," whispers Kishimoto, the crystallization quirk user, from behind me. "I've heard UA was tough, but this is just cruel."
I don't respond. What is there to say? "Welcome to the hero course, where dreams come to die" doesn't quite have a motivational ring to it.
Across the room, Nejire is trying—and mostly failing—to maintain her usual cheerfulness. Even her seemingly bottomless well of energy has limits, apparently. She catches my eye and attempts a smile that looks more like a grimace.
The classroom door slides open, and Aizawa shuffles in. The room falls completely silent.
"Don't look so shocked," he says, taking his place at the podium. "I told you from the beginning that UA isn't concerned with conforming to standard educational practices."
He surveys the half-empty classroom with his bloodshot eyes. "The hero industry has one of the highest burnout and casualty rates of any profession. Better to cut those who lack potential now than to send them unprepared into a field that will chew them up and spit them out."
His bluntness is breathtaking. No sugar-coating, no attempt at softening the blow.
"Let me be absolutely clear, this wasn't a scare tactic or a motivational exercise. Those students genuinely lacked what it takes to become heroes at UA's level."
He pulls out a stack of papers and begins distributing them to each of us. "This is your official class schedule and syllabus. Since there are now only nine of you, we'll be restructuring some of the planned activities. Principal Nezu will also be selecting transfer students from other departments to fill the empty seats, but that process will take a few days to complete."
I glance down at the schedule in front of me. It's intense, combat training, quirk development, rescue operations, hero law, and ethics classes packed into a grueling weekly routine. Even the standard academic subjects are accelerated.
"Heroes are the backbone of our society's peacekeeping system," Aizawa continues. "That means you need to be exceptional in every way, physically, mentally, and ethically. Anything less is unacceptable."
He glances at the clock. "Your next class begins in ten minutes. Present Mic will be introducing you to the hero studies curriculum. Don't be late."
With that, he picks up his sleeping bag and slouches out of the room, leaving us to process everything that's happened in the last two hours.
"So," Yoshida, the finger-extension guy, says into the silence, "I guess we're the survivors."
—
Present Mic's entrance is as dramatically different from Aizawa's as possible. He bursts into the classroom with a volume that makes several of us jump.
"WELCOME TO HEROICS 101, LISTENERS!" he shouts, striking a pose that belongs on an album cover. "I AM YOUR INSTRUCTOR, PRESENT MIC! YOU MAY KNOW ME FROM MY RADIO SHOW, PUT YOUR HANDS UP RADIO! BUT HERE, I'LL BE GUIDING YOU THROUGH THE FUNDAMENTALS OF HERO WORK!"
Despite the morning's grim events, his enthusiasm is oddly infectious. Even Tamaki, perpetually hunched in the corner, seems to perk up slightly.
"NOW, I HEAR YOU FOLKS HAD A ROUGH MORNING WITH AIZAWA!" Present Mic continues, mercifully lowering his volume a few decibels. "That's his style—sink or swim! But you're all still here, which means you've got what it takes!"
He taps a button on the podium, and the massive screen at the front of the classroom illuminates with the UA emblem.
"The hero course at UA is divided into three main components," he explains, suddenly professional. "Theoretical knowledge, practical skills, and ethics training. My class covers the theoretical aspects of heroism—history, law, public relations, and strategy."
The screen changes to display a complex flowchart of coursework.
"By the end of your three years here, you'll be expected to know hero law inside and out, understand the psychological impacts of disaster scenarios, and be able to effectively manage public perception of your actions. It's not all punching villains and looking cool, yeah?"
For the next forty minutes, Present Mic outlines the course structure, dropping occasional radio slang and sound effects that somehow make even legal precedents seem interesting. It's clear why he's a successful media personality, the man could make reading a phone book entertaining.
"Before we wrap up today's introduction," he says, glancing at the clock, "I want each of you to share why you want to become a hero. Just a sentence or two, we'll dig deeper as the course progresses. Let's start with... you!" He points dramatically at Tanaka, the air pressure manipulator.
One by one, my classmates offer their reasons. Some are predictably idealistic ("To protect the innocent!"), others more personal ("My mother was saved by a hero when I was little"). Nejire talks about wanting to help people in natural disasters, her quirk perfect for clearing debris and rescuing trapped civilians.
When my turn comes, I pause, considering my answer carefully. The truth, that I somehow got transported into a manga world, gained powers from a fictional fruit, and now need to navigate a world I've thought was mere fiction, isn't exactly an option.
"I was quirkless until a few months ago," I say instead, which gets a few surprised looks. "I spent years watching heroes from the sidelines, analyzing their techniques, their decisions, their mistakes. Now that I have a quirk, I want to use that perspective to become the kind of hero who can protect people when no one else can."
It's not the whole truth, but it's not entirely a lie either. Present Mic nods approvingly.
"AN EXCELLENT PERSPECTIVE, LISTENER! Sometimes the best heroes are the ones who understand what it's like to be powerless!"
As he moves on to the next student, I catch Aizawa passing by the doorway. His eyes briefly scan the classroom before he continues down the hall, expression as unreadable as ever.
—
The cafeteria at UA is legendary, and it lives up to the hype. Massive, modern, and filled with students from all departments, it buzzes with energy as we enter for lunch.
"Oh my gosh, there he is!" Nejire squeals, pointing toward the serving line. "Lunch Rush! An actual pro hero who cooks our food! Isn't that amazing?"
The chef-hero, complete with toque and apron over his costume, is personally overseeing the food service, occasionally using his quirk to prepare dishes at superhuman speed.
"That is pretty cool," I admit, getting in line with Nejire and Tamaki, who's somehow materialized beside us without my noticing.
"I... read that his cooking contains optimal nutritional content for physical training," Tamaki mumbles, staring at the floor. "And it still tastes good."
"You know a lot about the pro heroes?" I ask, surprised to hear him volunteer information.
A hint of animation crosses his usually blank face. "I... study them. Their techniques. Their public presence. Especially underground heroes who don't get much media attention."
"Tamaki's a total hero nerd," comes a boisterous voice from behind us. We turn to find Mirio Togata, grinning widely in his 1-B uniform. "He can tell you the debut date of practically every pro in Japan!"
"M-Mirio," Tamaki stammers, his momentary confidence evaporating instantly. "I thought you had lunch later..."
"Switched with a classmate so I could check on you!" Mirio slaps Tamaki on the back, nearly sending him face-first into the serving counter. "Heard about Aizawa's mass expulsion. Wild stuff! We only lost two students in 1-B!"
"You lost students too?" Nejire asks, her eyes widening. "Is that normal at UA?"
Mirio shrugs, his smile never faltering. "Vlad King says the hero course always starts with more students than they expect to graduate. Better to cut those who can't make it early, I guess."
He turns to me, extending a hand. "Shinra, right? From the entrance exam! Good to see you made it through Aizawa's trial by fire!"
"Yeah, barely,"
"Don't be modest!" He slaps my shoulder hard enough to make me stagger. "I heard you defeated the zero-pointer in a single attack! That lightning quirk must be something else!"
I force a smile, not sure how to respond. "Still working on controlling it. It, uh, manifested pretty recently."
"Well, you're doing great!" Mirio's positivity is like a force of nature, impossible to resist. "We should all train together sometime! Different classes, same goal, right?"
"That would be amazing!" Nejire agrees immediately. "We could use Training Ground Gamma after classes! Or maybe the forest area? Ooh, or the urban simulation zone!"