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comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years ago

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Their Hero Academia – Chapter 64: Final Exam part 6: Making the Grade

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia! Please note, this chapter may undergo more extensive editing before it gets posted to AO3/FF.net, as this one ended up a bit on the long side.

Earlier chapters can be found here

“Kocho! Were you watching the whole thing? I didn’t know you were going to be here! Does this mean you’re going to be in our class?” Ojiro wrapped her arms around Koharu and pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned. “What’d you think?”

“Maybe let her breathe, Kimmie?” Sato asked, but he was smiling. Even Koharu would admit the invisible girl’s enthusiasm was contagious.

“I was,” she told them, as she took a seat in the small auditorium she and Class 1-A had been brought to after the exam had ended, injuries had been tended to, and the Hero Course students had had a chance to shower and change. “You guys did good. I was worried for a while, but wow, you really pulled it off! Your teacher was quizzing me just about the entire time on what I’d do if I was out there with you. So, yeah, I think that’s pretty official.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Sero added. He had one of those flick-combs and was trying to fix his hair. One strand was stubbornly sticking up no matter what he did. “Do you think he’s that scary naturally or does he have to work at it?”

“Bro, really?” Sato asked.

“I’m pretty sure it’s natural,” Koharu told him. “He can make you feel like he’s glaring at you even if he’s not looking at you.”

She gave a wave to Midoriya and Haimawari, who were in the front row with Tokoyami and Shinso. Twenty chairs filled the back of the room, meaning it could have fit a Hero class with room to spare or any class from any of the other courses. There was a podium at the front, and a large projection screen behind it.

As Aizawa, All Might, and Vice-Principal Midnight entered the room, Class 1-A grew silent and took their seats. Koharu folded her wings and took a seat in the second row from the back, with Ojiro, Sero, and Sato.

Behind the teachers followed the Villains from the exam. She recognized the bug-like Nauseous and the winged Raptor right off the bat, and it wasn’t hard to identify Kamuy and Shadow-Thief. Even utterly depleted of power, Kamuy still towered over most of them. The last one, a beefy man built like a sumo wrestler, with a shovel-like jaw, had to be Jawbreaker, even if he was now made of flesh instead of a conglomeration of metal, concrete, wood, and rock. All of them had changed from their costumes to comfortable clothes. Most of them looked amazingly relaxed for people who had just been fighting a bunch of students less than an hour ago. Only Shadow-Thief kept stealing furtive glances at the door.

Aizawa took the podium and held their gaze for what seemed like an uncomfortably long time. She was certain he was doing it on purpose, trying to put them on edge. She’d already gathered from his exam behavior and the discussion about the “Villains” that he liked to play mind games. “So, let’s discuss the results of your exam.”

He clicked a button on a small remote control, and the screen behind him divided into three vertical segments. The right portion contained a picture of Recovery Girl and a note that her final distance from the civilian defense shelter was two meters. Koharu had to admit, her heart had been in her chest the entire time Haimawari had been racing after her, especially as Shadow-Thief had gotten closer and closer to the end. But given that the numbers were green, she guessed they were still good.

“You were able to complete your primary objective and keep Doctor McGuffin from being moved past the 100 meter,” Aizawa went on. “Barely. Not guarding the defense shelter after you engaged with the Villains’ final assault was foolish and under other circumstances, could have been deadly not just to Doctor McGuffin, but to the others inside as well.”

Ojiro’s arm shot into the air. “No fair!” she whined. “You didn’t tell us she could just sneak inside like that!”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “The results would have been the same if one of the more powerful Villains had brute forced their way in. You all practically left the door open and did not only did not account for the full range of her teleportation abilities, but seemed to forget her existence entirely once you were engaged with the others. I shouldn’t have had to explain what all the Villains could and could not do to get in.”

Even Koharu had forgotten about Shadow-Thief, getting much more caught up in watching the other fights. But Aizawa was right too.

“Would have gotten away with it too,” Kamuy said to Shadow-Thief, “if you hadn’t stopped to gloat.”

“Don’t blame me,” Shadow-Thief hissed. She jerked a thumb in Aizawa’s direction. “He was the one who said we had to give them a fighting chance.”

“Still,” he went on, “you met the objective. Barely.”

The middle portion of the screen showed a tally of civilians rescued and a separate tally of failed rescues. The top number was bigger by a long shot, in the three digits, but there were numbers on the bottom too.

“In terms of civilian rescues,” Aizawa went on, “you more than surpassed the bar we set. The number of failed rescues includes a portion of the those injured in Doctor McGuffin’s abduction, but also those missed during the course of your other fights.”

He looked down. “Fortunately, no real lives were lost, as this was just an exam. But in the real world, there will come times when you’re unable to save everyone. When you have to make a split second decision between confronting the Villain or saving the civilian. When you’re too slow or not attentive enough or simply unaware there’s anyone there. It will happen and it’s more than likely at some point, you will make the wrong choice.

“So learn while you can.”

None of the others said anything at that, though many of class 1-A exchanged glances with each other. Koharu guessed that they were trying to figure out what they’d missed, what they hadn’t seen. Second guessing could make you crazy like that. Hopefully, it wouldn’t weigh on them too much.

The final screen displayed pictures of the Villains, all of them but Shadow-Thief with a red x slashed through them. “And for your third objective, you managed to defeat four of the five Villains. As valiant as your rescue of Doctor McGuffin was, Haimawari, I’m afraid it did not count as a complete take down of Shadow-Thief.”

“Still,” Shadow-Thief piped up. “Nice try, kid.”

“I’m going to be sore for days,” Jawbreaker said, speaking less gruffly now than he had during the exam. “I wasn’t expecting children to go all out like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t been hit like that in a while.”

“At least you got to put up a fight,” Nauseous said. “I got taken out early.”

“Wimp,” Kamuy taunted.

“Can you all not…?” Raptor said.

“Settle,” Aizawa growled. He looked over the class again. “As we told you originally, in addition to the three-tiered priorities for passing the exam, we were also scoring you individually. You’ll all receive more detailed feedback after All Might, Midnight, and I have had a chance to compile it, but for now, we’ll be providing a basic evaluation of your exam performances.”

There was a collective gulp from the class. Even Koharu felt a chill go down her spine.

***

Worried looks passed through 1-A, dreading the criticism that was surely going to come from Aizawa. Koharu had only known him a short amount of time, but already she could tell that he did not suffer fools gladly and was quick to point out any flaws he found. Judging by how fearful 1-A looked… she was going to assume it did not get any better with time.

“Aoayama,” Aizawa began. The glowing boy stiffened in his seat. “Nothing exceptional in your performance, but no glaring weaknesses either. You made decent use of your Quirk to try and counter your foes.”

“Merci,” Aoyama said, looking relieved.

It was short lived. “However,” Aizawa went on, “check the arrogance. When you were out the search and rescue teams, you lost valuable seconds arguing with your teammates. If you have something to contribute, offer it. But don’t automatically assume you know better.”

Aoyama looked down, but nodded in response.

“Funny, that’s not how I remember it when we used to team up, Eraser,” Vice-Principle Midnight said, giving him a teasing nudge with her elbow.

“I seem to recall some choice words as well,” All Might said, wearing a grin that might have best been described as “shit-eating.”

“That’s not the topic of discussion,” Aziawa said. “Moving on.”

He made a show of shuffling his papers. “Since we have two Iidas in the class,” Aizawa went on, giving Vice-Principle Midnight a significant look, “we’ll begin with Sora.

“Overall, impressive tactical thinking in the early stages and excellent teamwork throughout. When the shooting started, you did a good job taking command of the situation and put yourself at risk for your teammates. Commendable.

“But you twice allowed yourself to become distracted and vulnerable because you were worried about your boyfriend.”

“That’s when I got you,” Jawbreaker said. “And I’m not exactly easy to miss.”

Sitting next to Sora Iida, Midoriya turned a bright shade and sunk low in his seat.

“They’re dating?” All Might gasped. “Young Grandson, why did you not tell me about this?!” Koharu wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Midoriya turned even redder.

“Sorry, Grandpa Might,” he squeaked.

“Heroes in relationships are more common these days,” Midnight said. “But with a handful of exceptions like Suneater and Nejire-Chan, they typically don’t work together, for just such a reason. I’m all for young love, but do keep it in mind, children.”

At this point, Koharu was wondering how Midoriya’s chair hadn’t caught on fire. Sora Iida looked nonplussed by the whole thing, occasionally shooting curious glances Midoriya’s way.

Still, Koharu understood the flying girl’s worry. Midoriya had been knocked under a collapsing building and no one had been able to raise him. He could have been hurt or worse. That he’d just been pinned down with his patched together communicator unable to get a signal out was nothing short of a minor miracle.

“As you say,” Sora Iida said. “Thank you.”

“As for you, Tensei,” Aizawa continued, “you demonstrated overall good sense and teamwork, and a willingness to sacrifice yourself for your teammates. You kept your head about you.”

“He still went down when I got ahold of him,” Jawbreaker added. “All that speed doesn’t do anybody any good once somebody grabs you.”

Tensei nodded. “I shall endeavor to improve. Perhaps some sort of shock field through certain points on my armor…”

“It would be difficult to properly calibrate the strength of it though,” his sister said. “Especially since you could not anticipate enemy resistance in advance and under such circumstances, it would be difficult to manipulate precise controls.”

Both twins made a “Hmmm” sound and looked like they were about to burst into more discussion. Aizawa cut them off. “Moving on,” he said. “Ojiro.”

Next to her, the invisible girl stiffened and shook. On her other side, Sato took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“You did well,” Aizawa said. “Good use of your Quirk, good support of your classmates, and good, if unorthodox, thinking when fighting Kamuy.”

“You’re creepy, kid,” Kamuy growled.

“Continue focusing on your skills and teamwork,” Aizawa finished. “And know when to back off. Your stunt against Kamuy ultimately worked, but it also severely hampered Todoroki and Kaminari’s ability to support you. If Aoyama and Tokoyami hadn’t arrived when they had, you could have had trouble.”

“Yes, Mister Aizawa,” Ojiro replied, actually sounding serious. Koharu hadn’t known her long, but she hadn’t really expected that of her.

“See, Kimmie” Sero said, leaning forward and looking her way. “Nothing to worry about.”

“As for you, Kaminari,” Aizawa said, and Koharu looked to the back row, where the blonde was sitting next to Mineta, “while you proved effective during the majority of the fighting, with good use of your Quirk and Support gear…

He sighed wearily. “Victory dancing? Really? Never let your guard down like that.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Kaminari replied, her Cords drooping. “In my defense, I really thought she was down.”

“That kind of overconfidence will get you killed, Sweetie,” Vice-Principal Midnight said. “As it was, it nearly cost your class their win.”

That got a gasp. And there was a lot of hurried talk and in the case of Kirishima-Bakugo, a lot of swearing. It wasn’t until Aizawa activated his Quirk that they silenced again.

“Had any of the objectives not been met,” All Might said, gravely, “we’d be having very different conversations right now. As it stands… we decided the two things canceled each other out well enough.”

“Understood,” Kaminari said, very quietly. Mineta gave her a small hug, but Kaminari pushed her away.

“It wasn’t even good dancing,” Kamuy added, which earned her a glare from a couple of the others.

It wasn’t fair, in Koharu’s opinion. But in the real world, that kind of slip up would have absolutely been fatal. And even she was boggled by Kaminari’s early declaration of victory.

“Kirishima-Bakugo,” Aizawa began, clearly eager to move on.

The muscular blonde girl sat up a little straighter in her seat. “Bring it, teach.”

“You acquitted yourself well in straight-up combat scenarios and demonstrated a measure of tactical thinking,” Aizawa went on. “But your first instincts continue to remain all out, full-frontal assaults. Those aren’t always going to work.”

“Worked well enough on this guy,” Kamuy said, giving Jawbreaker a nudge.

“Shut up,” Jawbreaker snapped back.

“Worked so far,” Kirishima-Bakugo said, flipply. “But got it. More thinky, less blasty.”

“I could have told you that,” Todoroki, who was sitting on her left, said.

“…Maybe tell me those things earlier, Iz.”

Aizawa’s attention focused next on the rock-skinned girl sitting next to Aoyama. “Koda, you made good use of your Quirk and demonstrated excellent teamwork with your classmates.”

“Thank you,” Koda said.

“Unfortunately, your combat skills are often not as aggressive as fits the situation. While I respect your desire to cause as little harm as is necessary… there are times where that’s simply not possible. Restraining your opponents won’t always work.”

“Sometimes,” Jawbreaker added, “you just have to hit someone.”

“I shall keep that in mind,” Koda replied.

“I thought you performed admirably, Mademoiselle Koda,” Aoyama said, making a dramatic flourish with his hands.

“Now, Sato,” Aizawa said, obviously determined not to get derailed.

Next to Ojiro, Sato just buried his head in his hands. “Oh no, here it comes.”

“You were one of the few to be able to properly approximate how Kamuy’s Quirk worked, and you were able to use that you your advantage, so good job there. And you had creative application of your Quirk when you faced her the second time, as well as good teamwork with Ojiro. In the future, however, you may want to put more work into combat options that don’t require the use of your Quirk.”

It took a minute for Sato to realize he wasn’t being yelled at. “He said you did good, Kenta!” Ojiro squealed. “Get your head up!”

“Th—thank you,” Sato said, nodding rapidly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Shinso,” Aizawa said, and Koharu could have sworn that there was something just a little warmer in his voice when he said the same compared to the rest. She remembered how he’d cheered for the purple-haired boy when they were watching the exam. Just what was the relationship between the two of them?

“Excellent teamwork and good use of your Quirk,” Aizawa said. “We did have some concerns you weren’t giving it your all, but you eventually corrected.”

A small smile pulled its way across Aizawa’s face. “And your… unique insights proved invaluable in supporting your team’s efforts. Good job. Work on bringing your A-Game right out of the gate though. Don’t just build up to it.”

“Got it!” Shinso bubbled, punching the air. “Give them the Smash right from the start!”

“As for you, Shoji,” Aizawa continued, looking at the tall, six-armed boy. Koharu was one hundred percent of a lesbian, but even she had to admit, Shoji was ridiculously good looking. No wonder Ojiro’s webshow—After becoming friends with her, she’d dug up a few old episodes—called him Class 1-A’s most eligible bachelor. Of course, she’d suddenly stopped doing that for some reason, but hadn’t mentioned why.

“You did well. Good fighting skills, good teamwork. Work on showing some greater initiative in planning and remember that you have options for long range attacks that don’t put you at as much risk in a physical confrontation.”

“Understood,” Shoji said with a small nod.

“Sero,” Aizawa began. The name had barely left his lips when the pink-skinned boy let out a terrified whimper and turned several shades paler. “Overall, good teamwork and good rescue work. You were especially effective against Raptor.”

“Damn tape,” the winged man growled. “Swinging me into that building hurt.”

“But watch your grandstanding. The correct response to finding out you’re fighting real Villains is not worrying about your hit count.”

Sero still hadn’t moved or reacted. It took Sato giving him a nudge. “Bro. You’re not dead.”

“I’m not?”

“You’re not. I’d tell you if you were.”

“Good.”

Once again, Aizawa looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else. He closed his eyes and appeared to be counting, judging by the slight movement of his lips. “Tokoyami.”

The glowing frog-thing, Frog-Shadow Koharu thought it was called, was sitting on Tokoyami’s shoulder. She perked up at Tokoyami’s name. “And me!” the thing declared.

Aizawa gaze briefly went to a corner of the room, where a yellow sleeping back, of all things, was sitting. He instead returned his attention to the bird-headed girl. “The first true victory went to you, so congratulations on that.”

“She got you good, bug man!” Kamuy yelled, slapping Nauseous on the back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nauseous growled. “Rub it in, why don’t you?”

“I was planning on it.”

“As seems to be the common theme here, good use of team work and collaboration with your classmates. However… as difficult as it is to draw the line where you and Frog-Shadow end and begin, let’s focus on your own physicality and active participation in these battles. Being saved by your living Quirk is fine, but you cannot rely on that.”

“I shall keep that in mind,” Tokoyami said, giving a slight nod. “Or rather,” she added before Frog-Shadow could interrupt, “we shall.”

“Todoroki,” Aizawa went on, addressing the pale girl with the multi-colored hair. Koharu wasn’t quite sure how her ombré hair worked exactly, starting white but turning red the further out it got, but given that her own hair matched the pattern of her wings, she wasn’t sure she was in any position to question it. “Your overall performance was excellent.”

“Indeed,” All Might bellowed, interrupted him. “Young Todoroki was very much the MVP of the exam! You proved invaluable in multiple Villain confrontations!”

“I merely did what I could,” Todoroki said demurely. “I only regret that I was unable to better protect my classmates…”

“That is unfortutnate,” Aizawa said. “But sometimes inevitable. In the meantime, you demonstrated excellent use of your Quirk and good overall thinking and teamwork. Continue to work on your endurance and you’ve a bright future ahead of you.”

“Would it be possible to have that in writing?” Todoroki asked. “I would like to make sure my mother is aware of these facts.”

“Geeze, more jokes, Iz?” Kirishima-Bakugo asked. “You’re on a roll today.”

“Yes,” Todoroki said, her voice carefully neutral. “A joke.”

“You’ll receive your written evaluation later,” Aizawa reminded her. His voice turned protective. “But by all means, do invite your mother to visit if she has any… concerns.”

In the front row, Haimawari squirmed uncomfortably as Aizawa focused his attention on him. “Haimawari, your overall performance was positive. If not for your efforts, the class would have failed the primary objective. You also proved your strategic worth against Jawbreaker and your combat powers against Raptor.”

“That was your plan?” Jawbreaker asked. “Good job, kid.”

“I was supposed to give you a chance,” Shadow-Thief added, “but I didn’t expect you to catch up. You could be faster than Inegnium someday.”

Aizawa stared the lanky boy down. “You’ve raised my expectations of you, Haimawari. I’ll be looking to see you step up to leadership positions again.”

In spite of the praise, Haimawari looked a little pale. “Ah, okay, got it. Thank you, sir.”

“As for you, Midoriya,” Aizawa continued, “if you keep hitting up against a wall and keep bouncing off, what do you do?”

“If you’re this kid, you keep on doing it,” Jawbreaker said with a laugh.

“Maybe… not that?” Midoriya tried. “It’s kind of my go to move, but it really wasn’t working so well. And there wasn’t a lot of room to do some of my bouncing tricks like Gran Torino.”

“At least,” Aizawa said. “You recognize it. You’ve got a lot of power and a lot of techniques, work on developing them. We can focus on some options for when your usual strategies don’t cut it. Additionally…”

“Yes, Mister Aizawa?” Midoriya said, in response to Aizawa’s trailing off.

“In the next team exercises in class, you’re not allowed to take charge or formulate plans unless your teammates have also come up with plans. I think we’re all very aware how much of a leadership role you’ve taken. And while those skills are desirable for a Hero, we can’t have your classmates becoming complacent.”

“He is right, Young Grandson,” All Might added.

Midoriya nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll… do my best to stick to that.”

“See that you do.” Aizawa looked down at his notes on the podium, then up at the class. He looked back down again, as though he was making sure of something and made a pained expression. Finally, he looked back up.

“And Mineta,” he said. “As is becoming a pattern for you against live opponents, you demonstrated solid tactical thinking when provoking your opponents into a trap or otherwise keeping their focus on your mouth instead of what you’re doing. I would tell you to be less…” He gestured vaguely.

“Ah, you just gestured at all of me,” Mineta said.

“Exactly. I’d like you to be less you. Except that it seems to be working.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It would be illogical not to encourage you to continue using those skills, not matter how distasteful.”

“What Eraser is saying,” Vice-Principal Midnight added, “is continue to own it, girl! If I was still active in the field, I’d snare you for a sidekick in a heartbeat.”

At that, Mineta actually blushed, something Koharu hadn’t been sure was actually possible. “Y-yes, Vice-Principal. T-thank you.” Koharu was extremely sympathetic though. The Vice-Principal’s expression was enough to set her own heart aflutter.

“Continue to work on battlefield discipline, however,” Aizawa corrected. “As useful as your… talents are, there is a time and a place.”

“Got it,” Mineta said. “Time. Place.”

“And Kocho.” It took Koharu a moment to realize Aizawa had said her name. The others of 1-A turned to look at her. “Overall, good analysis of how you’d participate against the exam Villains. Though you did forget about Shadow-Thief, just like the rest of the class, so I can’t fault you for that entirely. But good analysis overall, especially for someone not currently in the Hero Course. I’ll be expecting good things of you when you join the class for the training camp and for the next term.”

“I knew it!” Midoriya shouted.

“Way to go!” Sero said.

“Good job!” Sato added.

“You did it! You did it!” Ojiro said, practically bouncing in her seat. Cheers went up from some of the others, like Haimawari, and even those of she didn’t really know, like Shinso.

The celebratory moment was short lived. One of the Villains, Jawbreaker, spoke up. “So… that’s it then?”

Aizawa nodded. “The exam is over and the students will be returning to their dorms after this.”

“Then,” Raptor said, “I suppose we just wait for the police, then?”

All Might gave Aizawa a surprised look. “Just what did you tell them, Aizawa?”

“He said we had to beat the kids if we wanted early parole,” Shadow-Thief snapped. “I knew it. I knew I should have run when I had the chance… just taken my chances and run…”

“I can’t speak for these idiots,” Kamuy said, “but I’ll go quietly. I gave my word and I keep it.”

“What’s a few more years?” Nauseous said, shrugging.

“It was a logical ruse to get the most competitive edge out of you,” Aizawa said. “Once you’ve returned to your respective detention centers, your effects will be returned to you and your releases will be processed.

Koharu wished she could say she was surprised. Even already knowing that Aizawa had misinformed the Villains somehow, she hadn’t expected that. But given what she was learning about the man, along with the dirt that the Voice and Deku had spilled on him, she really, really wasn’t surprised.

“You bastard!” Shadow-Thief snarled, and had to be restrained by Kamuy and Jawbreaker. She probably could have escaped easily if she’d wanted to, but it seemed her heart wasn’t in it, as she let the other two push her back down. “I thought I’d lost my chance…!”

“Guess I’m going home,” Raptor said, leaning back in his chair and smiling.

“You’re definitely a bastard, Aizawa,” Jawbreaker said. “But I have to say… it worked.”

All Might just shook his head. “Dirty pool, Aizawa, dirty pool. Let me apologize on his behalf.”

Jawbreaker waved a hand in the air. “Honestly, I figured he was bullshitting us. It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. But I figured it was a worth a shot.”

All Might just shook his head. “One of these days, Aizawa, these “logical ruses” of yours are going to backfire…”

“Haven’t yet.”

Being in Class 1-A, Koharu thought, was definitely going to be an experience.

***

“Okay, everybody,” Midoriya began, “if I could just have your attention for a minute?”

Unfortunately, Class 1-A (and Kocho, who’d been invited to celebrate with them) were too busy celebrating their exam victory to notice. After the exam, they’d pooled their money—Izumi had offered to pay for the whole thing, but they’d insisted it come from all of them—and ordered pizzas (and shakes for Kocho), gotten the stereo going, and turned the dining area into a party spread with other snacks and sodas.

It had been close out there more than a few times, but Isamu was glad he’d been able to be a part of it. Of course, now Aizawa was expecting bigger and better things from him, on top of having already raised his profile at the Sports Festival, so that was a lot to live up to. And there was still the training camp on the horizon. They had a departure date for it, but no other details. But those were worries for another day.

He did wonder how the other Hero Courses were doing. 1-B was supposed to be taking theirs this afternoon, and 1-C in the evening. Kana had promised she’d let him know when they were done though, so he was anxiously awaiting that text. 1-B didn’t have as many “heavy hitters” in it as his class did, but they had a lot of variety and a lot of potential for teamwork if they really tried at it.

“Guys?” Midoriya tried again.

“If everyone could give us their attention for just a moment?” Tokoyami tried, with no success either.

“HEY! LISTEN!” Frog-Shadow shouted, from her perch on Tokoyami’s shoulder. And that did get everyone to shut up.

“…Thank you,” Midoriya told Frog-Shadow, before looking around at the class.

“Anytime!” Frog-Shadow said, giving him a thumbs’ up.

“As I was saying,” Midoriya continued, “everybody did great out there. There’s not a one of you I’m not proud of. Not that I was worried for a minute, but we really showed how we could come together when it really matters. So absolutely, let’s celebrate! We earned it!”

Isamu joined with his classmates in cheering, though he thought Kaminari looked like her heart wasn’t in it, despite everyone having told her that they didn’t blame her for almost causing them to fail the exam. He could see the electric girl had taken the criticism to heart and he doubted she’d do anything like that again.

He’d talk to her later if he had the opportunity. They weren’t exactly friends, but they’d gotten to be friendlier over the term, especially when he’d burned a few copies of some of his mom’s lesser known CDs for her. And they both agreed that Double Pop was a cheap rip off and not an homage, no matter how hot Mineta insisted they were.

As the cheers died down, Izumi spoke up. “I have already told my parents about our passing the exam,” she said. She sounded pretty happy, as far as he could tell. Izumi was a fairly reserved person, but even he could see the pride in her victories today. She deserved it, completely. “They send their congratulations to all of us. They have also extended an offer to the whole class—and you, Kocho—to join us at our island vacation home before the training camp.”

He knew Izumi’s family was rich. But all the same, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “You have an island vacation home?”

Kirishima-Bakugo smirked at his surprise. “They have their own island.”

That did not do anything to take down his surprise. “Of course,” he said. Visions of the costs of plane tickets and island prices and everything else immediately tampered down any enthusiasm he would have had for going. Not all Pro-Heroes were rich, of course, but with the right endorsements and even a modest amount of success, they could be very well off. That was not his family. They did well enough, of course, but he wasn’t anywhere near the same ballpark.

Really, between the Iida twins, Izumi, and Mirdoiya alone, the amount of yen in the room was staggering. It did very little to quell his feelings of inadequacy. But he could see Kocho doing a very good job of concentrating on her drink and a pang of sympathy overrode anything else.

“Of course, since it is the Yaoyorozu private jet and hotel, it is all expenses paid,” Izumi went on.

“As long as we’re back in time for the I-Island Expo,” Midoriya said. “Dad’s going to be busy, but the Aunt Meslissa and the Togata kids are all going, and I’m going with them.”

“We’re going too!” Sora Iida piped in. “Mother is presenting several new inventions and Father will be there as well, representing the family.”

Tensei Iida looked over at his boyfriend. “I will insist upon you being allowed to come,” he told Sero. “It is only fair, since my sister’s boyfriend will be there.”

“Double-date vacation with our Iida squeezes, Midoriya?” Sero said. “It’s all moving so fast! We’ll be in-laws before you know it!”

Midoriya turned red at that. “Maybe… maybe not that fast!”

“Toshi,” Sora told him, leaning in, “I think he is joking.”

“Or am I?” Sero laughed, giving himself a double thumbs’ up. Ojiro reached over and gave him a smack on the shoulder. “Ow! Go easy, Kimiko!”

“Stop making Midoriya a nervous wreck! You’ll ruin my ships!”

“You can’t call it a ship when it’s real people, Kimmie,” Sato said, looking faintly embarrassed at his friends.

“You’re going too, right, Haimawari?” Midoriya asked.

“I, ah, yeah,” Isamu said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He still needed to find a suit before that happened. As the first year winner of the U.A. Sports Festival, he’d gotten an all- expenses paid invitation to the Expo. It would be the furthest he’d ever been from his home in his life. Still seemed like way too much attention on him, but Hero-Society really did like to have people it could celebrate, it seemed. “Hadn’t had too much time to think about it, with the exams and everything.”

“You get a plus one, you know!” Mineta yelled. “You should totally take Kana!”

Isamu let out a squeak. “We’re really not ready for that!” he said quickly. “Really!”

“Take me then?” she asked, pouting. “Shinji’s still grounded and I’ll be so lonely…”

Nope, nope, nope, get away bad thoughts!

“We should be able to return in plenty of time,” Izumi said, answering the question and thankfully ending any conversation with Mineta.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I come?” Kocho asked. The tips of her wings flicked about as she talked. “I mean, I’ll have to ask my parents to begin with, but you all barely know me.”

Boy, did he know that feeling. It definitely summed up how he’d felt at the start of the term. But now he had good friends here, and even got along with pretty much everyone else. He still sometimes felt like an outsider, but with people who’d literally grown up together, that wasn’t completely surprising. But he definitely no longer felt like an outsider.

“You’re going to be in 1-A,” Midoriya said, smiling. “That makes you family.”

“Welcome to the crazy house,” Kirishima-Bakugo said. She made a sweeping gestured. “I’d say you get used to some of them, but, well…”

***

It’s the next morning, Saturday, and most of the class was out and about, some of the couples spending time with each other, some enjoying a day of much deserved rest after the exams. A few had even gone home already in preparation for the upcoming trip. They’d had one of the biggest tests of their lives and they’d passed.

So why couldn’t Chihiro bring herself to celebrate?

Maybe because she’d nearly ruined the whole thing. Not just for herself, but for everyone. She’d barely passed her other exams. As much as her mom often told her to “dig down deep and find the genes I gave you,” Chihiro sometimes had to admit… she just wasn’t that smart. Book learning did not come easily to her. So she’d poured everything she had into being a Hero. And with her new costume, she’d actually started finally getting good at that, overcome the limitations of her Quirk and started thinking a little bit smarter there.

And in one fleeting taste of victory, she’d done something stupid and started celebrating.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. One of the first basic rules of Heroing. Never, ever celebrate until the Villain was either unconscious or in a police car. She’d been so damn sure their combined power had been enough to put Kamuy down.

She’d been wrong.

And everyone had nearly paid for her mistake. Sure, they said they didn’t blame her. And she even believed them. Well, she believed everyone but Kirishima-Bakugo. She’d never actually said it, just grimaced and nodded along when the others said it.

It didn’t mean she didn’t blame herself.

In retrospect, being alone in the common room with her thoughts probably wasn’t the best thing right now, no matter how much she didn’t want to be around other people. Of course, if she really didn’t want to be around other people, she would have just stayed in her room. Instead, she was sitting on the couch, strumming on her ukulele. Maybe, just maybe, a little music would take her mind off of everything. She hadn’t had as much time to play as she’d like this term, but maybe she could get back to it.

She was definitely bringing it on the trip to Izumi’s island. Islands practically called for ukuleles. Also, she just liked the word ukulele. This one in particular had been a gift from her dad. It even had a small inscription. “Just write “I love you, Chihiro.’”

The doors to the outside flew open and in walked someone she really didn’t want to deal with right now: Shiro Monoma. If he said one word about anything—never mind how he’d have found out in the first place—she knew she’d throw hands and Cords. And then she’d probably get in actual trouble.

He had bolted through the doors like he’s gathered up all his courage for an important mission, but now that he was inside, he just looked a little confused. He even pulled his phone out and checked something on it—probably his text messages.

“Mika’s not here,” she told Monoma flatly. Mika had said something about how he was having a rough time lately, but honestly, he got on her last nerve often enough that she wasn’t sure she cared. “Pretty sure Koda’s upstairs though.”

How someone as nice as Koda was put up with the likes of him and Aoyama, she had no idea.

“I, ah, yes, good,” Monoma said, looking both awkward and uncomfortable under her gaze. She must have stepped up her intimidation game. Maybe she’d actually see how this played out. “I… heard you all passed the exam?”

Of course. Why did she think it was anything else? “Come to gloat?” she snapped, pointing her Cords at him. Sparks danced along their tips.

He put a hand to his chest, offended. “Gloat about what?”

“You don’t know?” She carefully set her ukulele down in its case on the table in front of her and stood up. She waved her arms through the air as she ranted, her Cords mimicking the gestures. “You’re not just bullshitting me, so you can insult me? Mock me? Mock poor stupid Kaminari who nearly danced her way into failing the exam?”

Crap. She said too much.

Monoma’s expression softened, though she could also see some kind of comprehension dawning too. “I assure you,” he said, crossing the room so he was standing across from her, “that I meant to do no such offenses. It’s not my place to do so anymore anyway. At least you’re still here. It sounds like you still deserve your spot.”

Wait, what? “The hell does that mean?” she demanded. Dammit, he needed to stop looking like a kicked puppy. It was making it incredibly hard to be mad at him!

“I’m leaving U.A.,” he told her. Chihiro’s Cords jerked up in surprise. “I’m… I’m not cut out for this. My Quirk’s not good enough. I’m not good enough. I only stayed long enough to help my class pass the exam. Which they did.”

Okay, seriously, what the hell.

“I, ah…” she began, uncertainly. “They throw real Villains at you too?”

Now it was his turn to be surprised. “…Your teacher really is insane.” She didn’t disagree. “Super-Ball got some of his Pro-Hero friends to play the part. Dirtbreaker, She-Panther, Silver Stalker, the Human Rocket, and Microwaveabelle. They’re all fairly minor and low ranked… but they gave us all a pretty good fight.”

“Betcha Shinso could have told you all about them.” She did genuinely like the little guy. Their dads were friends, so while they weren’t close, she was certainly more than used to his quirks.

“Yeah,” Monoma agreed. “He probably could have.” Chihiro recalled that his dad was friends were Shinso’s dad too. She seemed to remember the two of them had even been closer, once upon a time.

“But you’re quitting?” she asked. As much as he tried to brag or claim his class was better than theirs, she couldn’t believe it.

“My mind’s made up,” he said, quietly. “Please don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said. “But like I said, Koda’s upstairs if that’s who you’re looking for.”

He hesitated, then looked down at her ukulele. “I didn’t know you could play,” he said.

She shrugged. “I’m not nearly as good as mom. But I do all right.” She realized he was looking at her expectantly. The curse of the musician. As soon as you admitted you could play, people wanted to hear it.

With a sigh, she picked it up and sat down, using her Cords to indicate that he could sit too if he wanted. He took up a spot on the couch opposite her. She took a moment, then launched into the cords of a positively ancient song and couldn’t help but launch into song, in English.

“I see trees of green and red roses too

I'll watch then bloom just for me and you

And I think to myself

Oh, what a wonderful world

I see skies of blue, clouds of white

The brightness of day, the dark, say goodnight

And I think to myself

Oh, what a wonderful world…”

She stopped when she realized he wasn’t just watching her, he was staring. Hard.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ve never actually seen anyone play music up close like that,” Monoma said, actually sounding impressed. “At least, not live. Video is one thing, but up close and personal… it’s actually rather breathtaking.”

Okay, Monoma was dishing out compliments instead of insulting her intelligence. This was obviously a Monoma from an alternate universe where he was nice. “Think you could copy it?” she asked. “You’d probably make a good musician that way.”

He shook his head. “I could copy the motions, but I wouldn’t have the heart for it you do. Or the kind of conditioning in my fingers you have. I’m honestly really impressed. You’ve got real talent.” There was an undercurrent of “and I’m jealous” to it, so she took some pity on him.

“It take some work,” she said. “But anybody really can learn. You learn the chords, you put them together, one after the other, they turn into music. Same for every song, just broken apart and put together in different ways and speeds.”

Monoma’s lips were moving, but no sound was coming out, as he seemed to be processing what she’d said. He suddenly bolted from his seat. “That’s it! Like music! Not like shots from a quiver!” His eyes were wild and Chihiro slowly and deliberately put her ukulele in its case so she could stand up.

“I’m going to tase you if you don’t start making sense!”

His expression still maniac, Monoma continued. “I could string moves together into a symphony of fighting! I’ve been treating moves like separate weapons, to be used and discarded! I can combine them!”

“Uh… good for you?” she tried. Should she be calling someone here? Was he having an aneurysm? She could probably always defibrillate him, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t the right medical procedure.

His eyes were shining and maniac still, when he focused them on her. “You’re brilliant, Kaminari! Thank you!”

In a burst of speed, he was at her side, his arms wrapped around her and holding her tightly against him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” His lips pressed against her cheek for a moment, a long moment, separating with a wet, smacking sound.

Reality seemed to settle back in. He stared at her, then bolted towards the door. “Thankyouagain,Ihavetowithdrawmywithdrawl,Ineedtogonow!”

Chihiro stood there for a moment longer, before she flopped back onto the couch, her legs suddenly weak. Her fingers touched her cheek where Monoma had kissed her. “What… what just happened?”

***

Mika had made herself scarce from the 1-A dorms and was hanging out with Anime in hers. As was expected, her friends’ dorm walls were completely covered in posters from various manga and anime, most of which even the biggest otaku would find obscure.

Her phone buzzed. Earlier, she’d sent a message to Shiro, telling him a “mutual acquaintance” was feeling depressed and maybe he could go by and cheer her up. He was depressed, she was depressed, it was the perfect plan.

She checked her phone.

Cute Ex: So I’m not quitting. Got a really good idea when I was at your dorm building. Had a really good conversation. …I may have kissed her. Things got happened and I got passionate.

Mika smiled. That was fast. Really fast, actually, given the parties involved. Good for Shiro and good for Akaya. Her friend needed it. And Shiro would be way better for her than Aoyama, if he ever figured out that he was clearly crushing on Akaya.

“It worked!” she told Anime.

The animated girl squeed happily. “I knew it! Just like I Set Up My Best Friends (Because I Could)!”

Cute Ex: I hope this doesn’t make things awkward.

Mika was about to respond that of course it didn’t, this was her plan all along, when she saw more dots indicating Shiro was still typing.

Cute Ex: Because now I might actually ask Kaminari out. Not just because of the kiss. But because I discovered she’s actually fascinating. I know it sounds crazy, but…

She didn’t see the rest of the text, as the phone dropped from her hands. “Anime, we’ve made a terrible mistake.”

#my hero academia #their hero academia #Koharu Kocho #isamu haimawari #chihiro kaminari #shiro monoma #mika (tha)#fan fiction #fan fic #my writing

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