Behind me, the door creaked open.
"Kaito."
I didn't turn around. Didn't need to. I already knew who it was.
Arakawa Hajime.
My father.
His footsteps were light, precise, like always. He never wasted movement. Never wasted words, either. When he spoke, it was cold. Detached. "You're ready, I assume."
It wasn't a question. It never was.
I exhaled through my nose, keeping my eyes on the physics book in my hands. "Obviously."
A pause. Then, "Confidence is meaningless without results."
I scoffed, flipping a page I wasn't actually reading. "You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
Silence stretched between us. I could feel his eyes on me, not with warmth or pride—just calculation. Like he was weighing something in his mind. Maybe deciding if I was worth another word.
Finally, he sighed. "U.A. is a necessary step. Nothing more. Don't get distracted by pointless things."
Right. Because everything had to be necessary for him. Nothing was ever done for the sake of passion, or enjoyment, or because it was something I actually wanted.
I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the book. "I don't need your advice."
"Good," he said flatly. "Then you won't need my approval, either."
My grip on the book loosened.
Hajime adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, already turning away. "Don't embarrass yourself."
The door clicked shut behind him.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers unconsciously brushing against the pendant beneath my shirt.
Not for reassurance. Just… habit.
That was how it always was with him. No encouragement. No pride. Just expectations. And if I met them? Silence. If I failed? Then I wasn't worth mentioning at all.
Tch. Whatever. It didn't matter.
I stood up, rolling my shoulders as I pushed the thoughts down. Hajime had never believed in me.
At the time, I wouldn't know why, but if felt like thin strings just pulled apart my heart. But I didn't care much, I was used to this, bad parenting I guess.
I didn't respond. Didn't look back. Just tightened my grip on my bag and stepped forward.
The morning air hit me as I stepped outside. I barely noticed. My mind was already ahead—U.A. Entrance Exam. The proving grounds.
The school grounds were massive, the kind of place that screamed we make the best heroes in the world, and you're either worthy or you're not.
The moment I stepped through the gates, I could already feel the weight of hundreds of hopefuls around me. Some looked confident. Others? Nervous as hell.
Me?
I just cracked my neck and kept walking.
"Move." I didn't bother looking at the guy blocking my way. He flinched, scrambling aside like a deer caught in headlights.
Tch. Weak.
I was almost at the entrance when—
Thud.
Someone tripped. Hard.
I turned my head just in time to see a green-haired kid faceplant onto the pavement. Notebook in hand, shaking like a chihuahua, muttering something about strategies and hero statistics.
I sighed. "Bruh." Whatever, we'll just leave that.
U.A.'s written exam? Easy. Already studied. If I didn't ace that, I'd be disappointed in myself.
The practical exam? That's where things got interesting.
Alright, nerds. Let's do this.
{Written Exam}
The written exam was a joke.
U.A. wanted to filter out people who couldn't handle basic logic, critical thinking, and problem-solving under pressure. But for me? It was just another Tuesday.
The second I flipped open the test booklet, I knew I had this in the bag.
Physics? Please. I read that stuff for fun.
Hero Law? I could recite the major case rulings in my sleep.
Strategy and Analysis? I'd been running mental simulations on how to break quirks since I was old enough to understand mine.
I answered each question without hesitation, my pen moving like I was casually jotting down a grocery list. Around me, some people were sweating bullets, chewing on their pencils like that was gonna squeeze out more brainpower.
Pathetic.
Thirty minutes in, I leaned back, cracked my knuckles, and took a slow, deliberate scan around the room.
Most examinees were still deep in concentration. A few had their heads down, practically pleading with the paper.
Finishing the test early was expected. Handing it in immediately would be too flashy. So I took my time, double-checking my answers for exactly five minutes. Not because I needed to—just to make it look like I cared.
Then, with the kind of confidence that either meant you were a genius or an absolute dumbass, I stood up, stretched slightly, and walked to the front of the room.
The proctor raised an eyebrow as I placed my test on the desk. "Done already?"
I gave a lazy shrug. "Yeah."
She stared at me for a second, probably debating whether to say something, then nodded. "You're dismissed. Wait in the designated area for the next phase."
I nodded back and strolled out. As I passed the desks, I caught a few people glancing up, eyes wide with either admiration or jealousy.
Midoriya, to his credit, didn't flinch. But I felt him staring.
Yeah, that's right, nerd. Keep wondering.
Now, onto the fun part.
{Practical Exam}
Slowly, one by one, they filled the grounds, patiently waiting for the exam to start.
I just stood there, hands in my pockets, letting my gaze sweep over the competition.
U.A. had gathered the best of the best—or at least, that's what they wanted us to believe. But from what I could see, most of these kids were just hopefuls clinging to the idea of being heroes without knowing what that actually meant.
A few stood out, though.
There was that loud blonde with the explosion quirk—Bakugo. He was walking around like a caged animal, radiating pure aggression.
Then there was a tall guy with engines in his calves—he looked way too serious.
And, of course, Midoriya, still muttering under his breath like he was trying to unlock the secrets of the universe.
Tch. Nerd.
Before I could overanalyze the rest, a booming voice echoed through the speakers.
"WELCOME TO TODAY'S PRACTICAL EXAM!"
All heads snapped up as a large screen flickered on, revealing the one and only Present Mic.
"Hope you're all fired up because this is where things get real!" he continued, his energy at an eleven. "Out there, we've got a battlefield full of villain bots, and your job? Smash 'em up and score points! The bigger the bot, the more points you get!"
Some students clenched their fists, determination flaring in their eyes.
I just cracked my neck. Too easy.
"But—" Present Mic grinned, holding up a finger. "—there's also a zero-pointer."
On cue, the screen displayed an absolute unit of a robot—towering, heavily armored, and definitely not the kind of thing you'd want to fight head-on.
"Avoid it! It won't give you any points, so don't waste your time!"
Right. Sure. Because U.A. totally wasn't gonna throw a curveball with that thing.
"Alright, heroes-in-training!" Present Mic shouted. "You've been assigned to different testing zones, so check the board and head to your location!"
I glanced up, quickly spotting my name. Testing Zone C.
Midoriya was assigned to a different zone. Good. I didn't need the extra distraction.
I turned on my heel, making my way toward the designated area. Students around me were whispering, psyching themselves up.
I?
I was thinking about how to break this exam efficiently.
{Exam Start: Testing Zone C}
A massive urban battlefield stretched out before us. Skyscraper-like structures, narrow alleys, abandoned cars—U.A. really went all out making this look like a real city.
The gates loomed ahead, keeping us penned in for now.
A few students were stretching, warming up. Others were nervously glancing at the competition.
Me? I just rolled my shoulders, adjusting my tie.
Then, just as I expected—
A voice cut through the speakers.
"Okay, everyone! Get ready for the signal!"
All eyes turned to the massive screen above the battlefield entrance. A countdown timer flashed:
10…
9…
People braced themselves.
8…
Some glanced at each other, trying to gauge their competition.
7…
I took a slow breath.
6…
5…
My fingers flexed.
4…
Time to make a statement.
3…
No holding back.
2…
Wait for it—
1—
"GOOOOOO!"
Alright, time to speedrun this thing—I had a KFC coupon expiring today.
[This was a bit short, but the others are much longer.]